Crazy Al's No Saint

You know, every time I criticize Alan Greenspan (search) — or the Federal Reserve (search) — I invariably get e-mails attacking me. Stuff like, "Who am I to judge the great Alan?"

I have to tell you, I just think this infatuation with these guys on the Fed is way over the top. Yet the media, Congress — they all worship at the altar of Saint Alan.

Not me. Maybe because I'm a little simple, I look at things simply. And I simply cannot understand a bunch of guys who get praise for raising rates, I think, way too prematurely now. Just like they were forgiven for bringing them down way too tentatively before.

But I'm not here to bash their economics. I'm here to bash them.

I'm sorry, but these guys are weird and here's the kicker: We know they're weird. But we accept them like the crazy uncle walking around the living room with his fly down.

I mean, why do we put up with an organization that supposedly rewards us by releasing the minutes of its meetings grudgingly sooner than before? Instead of six weeks after the fact, it's three weeks after the fact.

Here's a newsflash, Al: It's still after the fact! The markets were selling off like crazy on Tuesday based on something you guys were whining about nearly a month ago. And for this newfound openness we're supposed to do a jig?

I don't think so.

Let's get real here. They've simply moved from fanning out news like Pravda to maybe something akin to Al Jazeera.

This is progress?

It's like telling Tony Soprano, "Tony, good to see you're using the silencer now when you knock off guys. Nice going."

They still talk in broad generalities, but say almost nothing in planned speeches and put out statements that read like a disclaimer from a used car salesmen.

People far smarter than I say there's a reason for that: they don't want to trap themselves. So, instead, they want to make fools of themselves?

Why do we condone a group of guys whose policy is made in secret and whose decisions which affect us all is made without one scintilla of debate?

It's goofy. It's weird. It's the crazy uncle thing. The difference with the crazy uncle is that I can tell him to zip his fly. I just wish I could tell crazy Al to zip the mumbo-jumbo.

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