Mr. Macho Market Man Says: "Parachute? We Don' Need No Stinkin' Parachute"

Discerning reader has by now noted the lack of buy/sell/hold chatter on the blog over the last couple months. In fact the most recent such post, on January 25th, was to explain the lack of such posts:

In 2016 We Had the #1 Stock In the S&P 500, In 2017 We Had the Top-Performing Commodity, In 2018 We've Got....

Nuthin'.
So here's a little victory dance 'til we figure something out.
And after that, a pretty good Warren Buffett story....

Still nuthin'
So, without further ado, a completely non-actionable but perhaps reassuring post from the run-up to the Great Financial Crisis:
June 7, 2008 
Okay, the Dow Jones Industrials are Down 428 Points in the First Five Days of June. Now What?

Well, the retail guys have their lips on autopilot: "And Mr. Big, if you annualize that...", but I suppose that sounds better on the upside.

Grandmother would say something like "If the initial condition given is 'The sky is falling', your course of action would be to short sky, try the eggplant"

kottke.org guides us to:

Free Fall The Free Fall Research Page

Unplanned Freefall? Some Survival Tips

Admit it: You want to be the sole survivor of an airline disaster. You aren't looking for a disaster to happen, but if it does, you see yourself coming through it. I'm here to tell you that you're not out of touch with reality—you can do it. Sure, you'll take a few hits, and I'm not saying there won't be some sweaty flashbacks later on, but you'll make it. You'll sit up in your hospital bed and meet the press. Refreshingly, you will keep God out of your public comments, knowing that it's unfair to sing His praises when all of your dead fellow-passengers have no platform from which to offer an alternative view.

Let's say your jet blows apart at 35,000 feet. You exit the aircraft, and you begin to descend independently. Now what?

First of all, you're starting off a full mile higher than Everest, so after a few gulps of disappointing air you're going to black out. This is not a bad thing. If you have ever tried to keep your head when all about you are losing theirs, you know what I mean. This brief respite from the ambient fear and chaos will come to an end when you wake up at about 15,000 feet. Here begins the final phase of your descent, which will last about a minute. It is a time of planning and preparation. Look around you. What equipment is available? None? Are you sure? Look carefully. Perhaps a shipment of packed parachutes was in the cargo hold, and the blast opened the box and scattered them. One of these just might be within reach. Grab it, put it on, and hit the silk. You're sitting pretty.

Other items can be helpful as well. Let nature be your guide. See how yon maple seed gently wafts to earth on gossamer wings. Look around for a proportionate personal vehicle—some large, flat, aerodynamically suitable piece of wreckage. Mount it and ride, cowboy! Remember: molecules are your friends. You want a bunch of surface-area molecules hitting a bunch of atmospheric molecules in order to reduce your rate of acceleration.

As you fall, you're going to realize that your previous visualization of this experience has been off the mark. You have seen yourself as a loose, free body, and you've imagined yourself in the belly-down, limbs-out position (good: you remembered the molecules). But, pray tell, who unstrapped your seat belt? You could very well be riding your seat (or it could be riding you; if so, straighten up and fly right!); you might still be connected to an entire row of seats or to a row and some of the attached cabin structure.

If thus connected, you have some questions to address. Is your new conveyance air-worthy? If your entire row is intact and the seats are occupied, is the passenger next to you now going to feel free to break the code of silence your body language enjoined upon him at takeoff? If you choose to go it alone, simply unclasp your seat belt and drift free. Resist the common impulse to use the wreckage fragment as a "jumping-off point" to reduce your plunge-rate, not because you will thereby worsen the chances of those you leave behind (who are they kidding? they're goners!), but just because the effect of your puny jump is so small compared with the alarming Newtonian forces at work....MUCH MORE

I don't see how you could need any more inspiration than the above but if you do here are a couple more posts, these from the summer of '16:
Risk: Skydiving Without A 'Chute

Seriously.
From The Guardian:
Skydiver to jump from plane without a parachute on live TV...

And the next day:
Skydiver Luke Aikins Successfully Lands 25,000 Foot Jump Without a Parachute

*****