Arthur Ellington

Japan called. Same playbook, worse ending.

Remember the last “sector-reshaping” tie-up of two small-cap trusts? Announced with trumpets, dead in committee within a year. This one will actually complete — different appetite, identical arrogance. Aberdeen’s holders get a polite letter; JPMorgan gets the assets. Nobody asked them. Consolidation looks immaculate from the boardroom. The rubble always lands in someone’s pension.

Two presidents meet. Traders pretend to be surprised.

Planned succession. Of course. Was that plan drafted before or after the regulator’s last visit — and who signed off the departing directors’ bonuses?

Obvious for a decade. Still breaking news.

It ends the way it always does. Two governments sprinting, nobody touching the brake, and the bill posted to the rest of us. Safety warnings get filed under “later”. Later never comes. We get a catastrophe, a hearing, a sternly worded report, and a fresh race. Rinse. Repeat. Utterly predictable, and they’ll call that leadership.

Recent engine and transmission work at 65,000 km? On a 360? That’s not maintenance. That’s a confession. I want to know what failed—gearbox, engine, or the seller’s story. And why did a Japanese car need a Canadian exile before auction? Answer the part that costs money.

Another rematch nobody asked for. Spain folding was forecast months ago — yet we’re told to gasp. Wake me when something unexpected happens.

Everyone’s suddenly pricing in a hike, yet I can’t shake the suspicion that the political pressure on Warsh will prove heavier than any inflation print. If you were in his chair, would you take the hike now and own whatever comes with it, or hold off and bet the data turns before you have to?