To bail, or not to bail: that is the question:
Whether ‘tis politic in the end to suffer
The ups and downs of unfettered markets
Or to choose to bail against a sea of voters,
And by that bailing tax them? To bail: to hope;
No more; and by the bailing say we end
The Dow ache and thousand natural shocks
That banks are heir to. ‘Tis a consolation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To vote, to quail;
Not bail: perchance the market works: Ay, there's the rub;
For in that loss of aid how many banks will fail,
When we have shuffled off this active role,
Must give us pause: for it is laissez-faire
That sets calamity so close to home;
For who would bear the loss of sales and job,
The competitors’ wrong, the bank's rejection,
The pangs of foreclosure, the law’s delay,
The insolence of bureaucrats, the spurs
That gore the patient family with their kids.
When the congressman might just retire
With fullest pension? Who would burdens bear
To grunt and sweat under weary strife,
But that the dread of something after vote,
The undiscovered future from whose loss
No business returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather fear the debts we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus politics makes cowards of us all;
And thus the pol’s pallid hue of resolution
Is sicklied or with fear of focus groups
And bailouts of great hope and promise
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
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