The Way We Live Now: in a permanent state of barely-controlled fury. Foreclosure furor! Holiday whirlwind! The heart-stopping ups and downs of IMF projections! Recovery is a roller coaster, on an elevator, dropped from a balloon, that just popped.
The funniest thing about America's FORECLOSURE FUROR is that it's not a furious rush by angry banks to foreclose on delinquent borrowers; it's the backlash to that furious rush by banks, which resulted in a mess of shadiness, thereby re-pissing off those delinquent foreclosure targets, who are now in a furor! By the time the banks themselves become furious over the backlash to their behavior, the fury train will have completely encircled the earth and come back again the other way.
We need more than anger management. We need some motherfucking help. Preferably in the form of money, or gift cards, but we'll take what we can get. What we don't need are some economists from the IMF, sitting in some fancy conference room somewhere, with free pastries and bagels and bottled water and several different kinds of sodas and juices and waiters and attendants and maids and nurses and "masseusses" and a roaring fireplace and a bearskin rug getting manicures from expensive giraffes and then being like "We're cutting global growth prospects for 2011."
It just makes me so mad, the fat cats.