Oh, you precious little princess

That's IronMan@PoliticalCalculations.com

At least 2 bloggers have asked us not to comment on their sites anymore, but this one is extraordinary.

A couple of weeks ago we hosted the Festival of Stocks. The guy (assuming it’s a guy) who runs the On The Moneyed Midways blog roundup found the accompanying image offensive, and chided us accordingly on his site this week:

We have another case study in how not to host a blog carnival. The sad thing for us is that the host only did one thing wrong and aside from the one thing, we would consider the carnival to have been well done.

But that one thing completely wrecked it. And unfortunately, any and every casual reader who might click through to that blog carnival won’t be able to avoid running into it and asking “WTF?”, most likely in much more graphic language.

In this case, what that one thing is, is a photo that appears near the top of the blog carnival post. One that is, dare we say, completely out of context with the content of the blog carnival and therefore completely inappropriate. And that’s putting it mildly. If you must, here is a link from the obsolete Blog Carnival site where you can link to the blog carnival in question – we do not recommend clicking through to it and we refuse to link to it directly.

What makes it a sad thing is that for the first time ever in the history of OMM, we’re going to completely bypass considering any posts contributed to an otherwise well done carnival for inclusion in OMM. When we say we’re presenting the best posts we found among the best of the past week’s money and business-related blog carnivals, we mean it. This week, we discovered that means all it takes is just one thing to make us scratch an otherwise perfectly good blog carnival entirely from our consideration.

We apologize to the bloggers who submitted posts to the blog carnival in question. We know you had no control over the carnival host’s editorial choices and had very different expectations for how your contribution to the carnival would be presented. We regret that for one of you, the carnival host effectively sabotaged your post from any chance to benefit from the small, but increased exposure that your post might have enjoyed from being included in our weekly wrapup of the best posts we found in the week that was.

We also apologize to the blog carnival’s organizer, who also had no control over how this week’s edition of the blog carnival would be presented.
She’s fully clothed. The carnival’s owner, George at Fat Pitch Financials, didn’t say a thing. He’s the only one we would have changed the image for, anyway. None of the bloggers we featured seemed to have a problem with our image, either. Anyhow, you delicate, prissy fellow, we’ve attached an image this week that hopefully suits your tastes. Enjoy.

What do numbers and humans have in common? The irrational ones predominate.

This week marks the 23rd anniversary of Light Gray Wednesday. On October 19, 1987, the Dow Jones Industrial Average lost 23% of its value. Alas, no Goldman Sachs employees jumped out of their windows and ended up literally on Wall Street, which would have been awesome.

Over the course of one shocking trading day, the typical individual pension fund went from having 20 years worth of reserves to having 15. Stock options were instantly rendered worthless. Frightened American seniors started pricing cat food brands (Fancy Feast Classic Savory Salmon, 39¢ for a 3-oz. can.) High school juniors started downgrading their aspirations and applying to state colleges. The kids’ parents started smoking off-brand cigarettes – even the non-smoking parents – and saving up the frequent-buyer points. President Reagan and Congress were under pressure to do something to stop the carnage (more on this later.)

The first 100-point drop in the Dow began early in the morning: and this was back when the index itself was at barely 2000, less than one-fifth of where it stands today. Panicking investors copied the lead of previously panicking investors, selling their shares and forcing stocks to drop another 100 points by lunchtime. People on the West Coast woke up, assessed the devastation and followed suit. By the time investors in Honolulu and Anchorage were in a mood to eat breakfast, they’d seen their portfolios blown apart.

The drop wasn’t confined to the United States, nor did it originate here. It hit our shores after already overwhelming Hong Kong, not unlike Pai Gow. Once Hong Kong’s market crashed, so did the markets in Australia, then Western Europe. (An ancillary point: one of the biggest differences between international commerce of a generation ago and that of today is that back then, there was a 6000-mile swath ranging from Singapore to Tallinn that had no stock markets to speak of.) That very month, R.E.M. released “It’s The End of The World As We Know It”, a clear choice for the opening track on the soundtrack to the financial apocalypse that we were all going to have to face.

Who or what to blame? Favorite culprits included:

-computers. Those newfangled machines were blindly selling stocks, often to each other with negligible human input;
-an anti-inflation policy in the United States, though Europe had nothing similar and even if it did, something as gradual as that wouldn’t explain such a sudden drop in one day.

The real answer to what caused the crash is “it doesn’t matter.” What no one mentions is that within 2 days, the market had regained the vast majority of its losses. On net, the Dow actually rose that year. The relevant politicians at the time were either wise enough to know – or too busy to worry over the fact – that you can’t legislate opinions. Which is exactly what stock prices are.

So many of the indicators that we use to measure our prosperity are subjective, but especially the Dow. If you select a random public company, read its financial disclosures, and examine its income statement and balance sheet, a fair and reasonable stock price ought to correspond to that data. But that’s not necessarily the case. A profitable oil company with a rich history (BP) can suffer one huge setback and watch its market cap tumble. An over-the-counter company with almost no assets and no finished projects (Prime Sun Power) can trade at tens of thousands of times earnings, just because of its ecologically correct name.

The point? If you see unjustifiable movement, step away and breathe for a second. Investors sold off on the afternoon of October 19, 1987 for no better reason than investors were doing the same thing that morning, too. Playing lowball was, to put it simply, a fad. Just like bidding up the prices of online toy retailers would be 13 years later.

Collective rationality, or some form of it, usually wins out. In the case of Black Monday, it took almost no time at all for that to happen. The crises are rarely as important as the mundane, day-to-day activity, and the extremes rarely represent any market’s true level. Think about that when mortgage rates and home prices hit another nadir this week.