They were sitting on gold most of the day, but silver would not be denied, rising higher to take out and hold the 28 handle.
This is the end of the month, but not the quarter, and the markets are hesitant ahead of more from Bernanke and the Non-Farm Payrolls at the end of the week.
I think the wiseguys are the only ones left in the room, and they are waiting for some sugar from the Fed and the other central banks to bid the markets up so they can drain a little more vitality from the real economy.
Keep an eye on the Fed, ECB and the Bank of England this Wednesday and Thursday.
The real economy is flagging badly, suffering under malinvestment, misdemeanors, felonies, and market rigging by the bully boy Banks.
Plenty of crime to go around, but no one can do anything, or even knows anything about it.
The Ballad of Mack the Knife
(Trans. John Willett):
See the shark has teeth like razors
And they thrust out from his face
And Macheath has got a knife too, but
Not in such an obvious place.
See the shark, how red his fins are
As he slashes at his prey,
Mack the Knife wears white kid gloves
Which give very little away.
On a beautiful blue Sunday,
See a body stretched out on the Strand
See a man dodge around the corner,
Mackie's friends will understand.
And Schul Meier who is missing
Like so many other wealthy men:
Mack the knife aquired his savings,
God alone knows how or when.
Jenny Towler turned up lately
With a knife stuck in her breast
While Macheath walked the embankment,
Nonchalantly unimpressed.
Where is Alfred Gleet the cabbie?
Who can get that story clear?
All the world may know the answer,
but Macheath has no fear.
And the ghastly fire in Soho,
Seven children at a go,
In the crowd stands Mack the knife, but
He's not asked and wouldn't know
And the child bride in her nightie,
Whose assailant's still at large,
Violently ravaged in her slumber,
Mackie how much did you charge?
