...with apologies to the Bard
To Raise, or not to Raise: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous inflation,
Or to take arms against a sea of economic troubles,
And by opposing end them?
To pause: to hold;
No more; and by a pause to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That the markets are heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd.
To pause, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that pause of rates, what dreams may come
When we have sluffed off these markets’ roiled,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would endure the bulls and bears of time,
The profit takers’ wrong, the sellers’ contumely,
The pangs of despised CEO’s, the SEC's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he the stockholder might his quietus make
With a stop order?
Who would IPO’s bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after the closing bell,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourse
No investor returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the Fed’s hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Soft you now!
The fair Bernenke!
Nymph, in thy Fed Meeting minutes
Be all my shares remember'd.