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Again this week, I was admonished by one of your fellow dear readers, who recommended that I keep my political comments to myself. And furthermore that I, and the entire Casey team, should focus solely on finding the next great investment.

While I can’t and won’t argue with the latter part of his advice -- that is, after all, our overarching mandate, and a mandate we take seriously - I suspect the real issue is that the political views we occasionally express run contrary to those of the author of this rebuke.

Even so, if you give the matter any thought at all, you will almost have to conclude that the business of America is now hugely dependent on the business of government.

As a refresher, the following – compliments of the Encyclopedia of Business – describes the two major foundations economies have typically been built on in modern times: central planning and capitalism....

Like most people, I occasionally find myself overwhelmed by the tasks involved with everyday life. This week, I have been, to use the old adage, 'working like a dog.' Though, now that I think about it, I have a hard time imagining the origin of the term. Even in his youth, my now elderly companion General Beauregard Piddle didn't seem to take on anything more rigorous than climbing up on an unattended couch for a nice nap. In any event, it's been one of 'those' weeks. And so today, as I prepared to write this weekly missive, I found myself groaning, 'Arrgh, I've got to write The Room,' to my ever patient and entirely wonderful wife. 'But,' she said, misunderstanding the nature of my apparent complaint, 'I can't see how that's a problem. There's so much to write about.' 'Exactly!' I said, 'That's the problem!' In actual fact, I almost always look forward to these weekly writings as a form of personal reflection and even entertainment... and as a usual way to keep myself in the flow of the passing parade. But some weeks – most weeks, it seems of late – the sheer volume of important news that I should comment on, at least if I were trying to be a good correspondent, is so staggering in dimension, it is a real challenge to know where to begin. So, instead, I start by writing about old dogs and wonderful wives. Go figure....

We're no longer in Kansas, Dorothy. At this point, the world's financial markets are in the firm grasp of a massive tornado. Our vision is blurred with fast-moving images of abandoned houses, crumbling banks, pontificating politicians, alien-looking Treasury secretaries on one knee, and suicide stock and commodities charts. When the whole mess crashes back on terra firma, the landscape will look considerably different. But, what? We remain convinced that the result, with the unavoidable time lag, will be inflation on an epic, global scale. But if history provides one lesson in rich abundance, it is that the future is unpredictable. Who is to say that the government of these United States -- and of similarly indebted and in-trouble countries "over there" -- aren't too late to the game? Or that even $700 billion, or a trillion... or...?... will not prove to be too little, too late?...