Stock Market’s Gain Under Trump Vanishes

[Formerly Once-Ler]

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/20/business/coronavirus-trump-stock-market.html

Before he was sworn in as president, Donald J. Trump made clear that he would treat the stock market as a crucial yardstick of his success in office.

“The world was gloomy before I won — there was no hope,” he wrote on Twitter on Dec. 26, 2016. Since his election, he said, “the market is up 10%.” (It was up, but not that much.)

In the three years since, Mr. Trump has obsessed over the daily gyrations of the stock market like no president before him. He trumpeted its relentless rise as a validation of his leadership, his financial acumen and his policies. Disappointing days were the fault of Democrats, the media or the Federal Reserve. Stocks, he warned, would crash if he was impeached or “if anyone but me takes over in 2020.”

Now his bragging rights and doomsday threats have evaporated — along with trillions of dollars in wealth.

more at link

[Smokin Joe]

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

    Rudyard Kipling