Let’s start with this:
As I type this (6 p.m. on Sunday evening), I have no idea how much the aforementioned political firestorm has to do with the plunging equity futures of soaring precious metals prices. Before I heard about Powell, I figured it was something to do with the quickly growing quantity of threatened wars that are spring up from President No Regime Change.
Let’s be honest, though. The action we’re seeing with futures right now has nothing to do with Powell, President Genius, or geopolitical tensions. It has to do with the fact I was scared shitless to stay aggressive and have, over a short period of time, hacked down my short positions from 37 to a mere 23. Pathetic! Indeed, my exposure has dropped from 170% to 75%. Once market makers o’er the world heard that I had chickened out, they figured it was time to pull the rug.
The above chart of the /ES shows the S&P blasting above 7,000 for the first time on Friday. If you watched my videos, you know how severely this freaked me out, since it put the bulls in the catbird seat (does that even fit?). Almost every chart I looked out was just screaming out for the bulls to perform the coup de grâce right about now. Instead, we’re red across the board.
Now, obviously, it’s not like we’re down 2,000 points on the /YM. As I type this, the markets are down from 0.37% to 0.72%. BFD, right? But for a person who has become accustomed to Big Bubba paying him a visit in his prison cell twice a day, having Bubba simply not show up at all feels like it’s worth celebrating. Everything is relative.
The /NQ is of special import to me, because my largest options position (down a tidy 20% thus far) is being long March SMH puts. The /NQ is the weakest of the futures right now, and are you there, God, it’s me, Margaret, I’d appreciate it if this selloff could stick so that I could get out of those SMH puts for a tiny loss and then wait for them to explode 300% higher in value shortly thereafter. That’s the plan, at least.
What I find most comforting is that one of the best investments I’ve ever made in my life is acquiring so much gold, silver, and platinum bullion many years ago in anticipation of the Fourth Turning (although as some of you know, I did one day bring home a 1,000 ounce brick of silver when it was $7 per ounce, explaining to my wife it would be invaluable during the economic collapse, to which she asked if I intended to shave off a piece of it to buy a chicken should that transpire; I meekly returned the brick for a refund, and I kinda regret that choice).
In any case, I’m not going to offer up my political commentary about Powell and so forth, because I’ve given up on that. Those of you who worship you-know-who like some kind of daddy-god are too far-gone for me to save, so I’m not going to bother trying anymore.
I shall simply kick myself in my own ass for, as usual, being such a fey, hair-dressing, clothes-shopping, antique-shopping wimp and being so light in a market this absurdly valued.
Monday’s open should be interesting. God, I suck.
