Yesterday if you were long, you felt like the king of the world. Today, as you survey your Empire of Dirt, you want to just die.
Yesterday’s kings cackled as the market would not let anyone else in, today’s kings were yesterday’s court jesters – juggling negative European outcome assumptions in the hopes we’d notice.
And that’s been the story of 2011 thus far, winners and losers switch sides on a weekly or even daily basis. The fact that anyone – and I mean anyone – could go from genius to asshole overnight has meant an absence of end zone celebrations, a dearth of football spiking and Icky-shuffling regardless of how the tape finished each session.
Because the shorts know that this market has a serious tendency to shrug off apocalypse with amazing caprice. And the bulls know that much of their good fortune this year has stemmed from degrees of less-bad.
So today, the under-invested get a break and can go home feeling somewhat vindicated, but tomorrow? Too hard to say. There are a Million Ministers of This or That prancing around Europe and at any given time one of them could drunkenly lean into a microphone somewhere and rip a trillion dollars off of the globe’s market cap. Or one of these ministers could announce a resignation sending the world’s stocks shooting higher like a beach ball that’s been held underwater for too long.
But don’t you dare do that end zone dance when you find yourself on the right side of this on any given day, for tomorrow could be your next comeuppance.