Mission Accomplished* - TARP a Success (for the Banksters)

May 19, 2011

 

I’m reading jubilations of TARP’s triump everywhere!  Newsweek here... a Congressional Panel here... and bailout chief Timothy Massad here.  

 

Remember the doomsaying, the apocalyptic cattle calls, the prophetic proselytizing that netted us $700 Billion in bank bailouts and talk of help for homeowners?  We’re told that if we didn’t have TARP, there would have been a $5 Trillion bank run.  Isn’t it a little odd that the financial-and-therefore-effective masters of the universe are writing our axiomatic version of history?  If eerie is ever an appropriate feeling it is just now.   

 

Neil M. Barofsky, the special inspector general tasked with oversight of TARP, tells us that the program was a failure.   Gillian Tett of Financial Times says it was a success.  Annie Lowry at Slate may have it best: she says your TARP perspective ought to derive from who you think it was intended to help.  It worked like gangbusters for the banksters and insurance companies and did nothing for the saps and sods that lost their homes and pensions.

 

Now the financial sector is flush with cash and it’s ballooned to hold more influence over our financial destiny than ever before.  The biggest banks are now 20 percent bigger.  Too big to fail begets too bigger to fail ever.  All the window dressing about helping homeowners is forgotten.  A mere $1 Billion of the $700 Billion program – initiated to help both banks             and homeowners - was spent on mortgage modifications!  1/700th!

 

In the end, what have we learned?  This is America – every man and woman has the right to succeed or to fail on their own merits and we’ll gladly leave them to it.  However, our human-entity financial institutions have no right to fail.  Our bank-Terri-Schiavos are free to morally hazard the rest of us and, when they fall in upon their own disease, we’ll keep them on life support at the cost of our national health.

 

I’ve joined the ranks of the un-employed and I can tell you I feel the kink in my neck as I strain to look up at those who are still “making it”.  The desolation of our have-nots is thriving.  Millions of walking-dead among the living.  Who knows what this weekend’s Mayan end-time will bring? 

 

I’d venture to guess that what we’ve learned best is not to ask questions.  We’ve settled in and buckled-up to the absurd.  This is America!   We were once a great White City on the Hill.  Questions erode the bricks of those white-washed ramparts.