2008-10-06 1600h EDT

Let your mind wander from today's economic carnage and destruction for a moment, and let's partake of a charming analogy from the pleasant fantasies of yesteryear. Back to a tale written in the halcyon days of the 1950s.

You and half a dozen of your best buds have been trekking for a long time through the dark and winding passageways of the Market. You go up, you go down, you fight off some evil goblins and orcs bent on ruining your investments, but you are led on your way by the wise and powerful old wizard who befriended your uncle long ago.

But then, the wizard tells you to go on ahead after besting the last of the orcs (which a particular bumbling member of the party brought upon you through his clumsiness). You cautiously go further, and then the wizard joins up with you, panting and spent. "Don't go back," he warns; "there's ... something back there, I barely contained it." Nervous, you edge on ahead.

And then, you enter into a gigantic room, its ceiling shrouded in darkness. Immense pillars stretch from the ground upwards, wrapped in tight spiderwebs of assets and liquidity, with a strange glowing phosphorescence traveling along the webs between the pillars. Ahead in the gloom is a dull-red glow emanating from a chasm. "Keep going!" the wizard urges. "Don't turn back now!"

As you go further, you see a lone bridge spanning the chasm. But now, behind you, there is a great clattering and noise. Goblins, hundreds, thousands of them, are pouring out from the hidden caverns beyond your sight. They surround you, but stay back from the reach of the wizard, for they fear him.

"To the bridge!" the wizard yells, pushing forward and making a path through the throng of scoundrels. A great chittering and screeching goes up from the goblins, which now look backwards instead of at the wizard and your companions.

boooom. boooooom. Booooooom. BOOOOOOM. Great long resounding booms echo across the floor of the great cavern from where you came. A ghostly, fiery-red glow pours forth and the ground shakes. The wizard turns about, faces back, and says, "No!"

The goblins scatter, screaming and terrified, as a gigantic figure, burning red, dark wings aflame, steps menacingly into the passage behind them. "A Bal-rog," whispers the wizard. "A demon from ancient times, unleashed by the Dwarves who dug this Market; they delved too deep!" The demon strides into the cavern, crushing goblins under his feet, smashing the immense dark pillars in his path, and setting the wisps of spiderwebs aflame.

"Run!!!" the wizard cries, and your party sprints for the bridge across the chasm. It's the only way out. And beyond the bridge, there's a pale glow of daylight coming through a passage to the surface.

WE INTERRUPT THIS MARKET COVERAGE FOR FINANCIAL COMMENTARY

"These are normal cyclical patterns. Any prudent investor knows the dangers before going into the Market."

"Don't worry, government regulators have the situation under control."

"The Balrog is good for the Market!"

"This is definitely the bottom, that Balrog's not going any further."

WE NOW RESUME THIS MARKET COVERAGE

You run across the bridge and find a team of Regulators stuffing wads of paper into the muzzles of artillery pieces. "What are you doing here," you ask.

"We're providing liquidity to the Market!" the taller one answers, wiping the sweat off his hairless brow and adjusting his wire-frame glasses. The other, a shorter bearded figure, not altogether unlike a Dwarf but wearing a three-piece suit, adjusts the aim of the barrel.

"You're firing money? At the Balrog?" you ask again.

"Indeed! We're protecting investors and asset values," the tall Regulator responds. The bearded one flashes him a tight-lipped grimace, and pulls the trigger. A shower of green paper trails through the air and flutters to the ground near the Balrog, flashing into flame and smoke as the demon stomps on it.

"What happens if you miss? Even worse, what if you hit it?" you ask. Some of your friends have made it over the bridge now, but the slower ones are still legging it across. The wizard is standing at its edge, staring intently at the Balrog as it smashes through the Market pillars, turning the stone columns to dust and setting their inter-connected webs aflame.

"Don't worry, we have more where that came from," replies the shorter Regulator. He stuffs more wads of paper down the other barrels.

"Um, are you sure that actually helps?" you wonder out loud. The Balrog roars, its voice shattering the stones in the cavern, now falling down from the unseen ceiling.

The two Regulators exchange a quick glance. "Definitely! Hey, do you have any cash on you?" the taller one asks, smiling as he walks towards you. You draw back, unsure of his intentions. "No, I don't carry... cash, just some gold and silver in my coin-purse." The tall Regulator's smile vanishes, and he stops.

The wizard now stands alone at the far end of the bridge, the Balrog towering above him, brandishing its flaming whip.

"What are you going to do about him?" you ask the Regulators. They look at each other again. "Do you mean that lunatic down there?" the bearded one asks, pointing at the wizard. You nod. "We can't create a moral hazard," he answers. "Can't let investors assume that the government's going to prop up every bridge that a Balrog might step on."

"You... shall... not... PASS!" commands the wizard, holding up his staff, now glowing white.

The Balrog bellows back, swings his whip and steps towards the wizard.

"But... he led us this far, you can't just let him... you are trying to stop the Balrog, right?" you plead.

"Never liked that wizard anyway," grumbled the taller Regulator. The bearded one flashes a tight-lipped grin, and goes back to stuffing money down barrels.

The wizard slams his staff down into the rock of the bridge, which crumbles and falls, taking the Balrog with it into the chasm below. Relieved, the wizard turns to face you, your friends, the Regulators and their assembled artillery pieces. The two Regulators smile wanly and give him a small wave of their hands.

As the wizard steps forwards, the Balrog's flaming whip flies up out of the chasm and wraps tight around the wizard's waist, pulling him back. He scrabbles with his hands for a hold on the remains of the bridge, and calls out three last words: "Fly, you fools!" He then plummets with his staff into the abyss.

You turn, shocked, to your friends. Fear and panic spreads across their faces, and they set off running towards daylight, back out of the Market into the Real World. The Regulators stand there, staring down the abyss.

"Well?" you ask.

boooom. boooooom. Booooooom. BOOOOOOM. Your eyes open wide as you hear the thunderous booms echoing again, closer and closer. The Regulators exchange a glance. "Everything's just fine," the taller one says. "Definitely under control," the shorter one seconds. "Our policies have averted disaster!"