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Kiplinger magazine aimed a soft glove at us. Here, we pause to see what
else is between the covers of the January issue...and look for some brass
knuckles.
Kiplinger's complaint was that some of the things we say are "over
the top." We do not deny it. Rather, we protest that we can never seem
to get over the top enough. Nature, the markets, and the world itself are
simply too...too...over the top themselves. Life is full of surprises, absurdities,
and humbuggeries. We have only words to describe them. Our words never seem
to be enough. Catastrophe, disaster, horror...where is the word that measures
up to the "Death Wave" in the Indian Ocean, for example?
Kiplinger, on the other hand, lives in a different world. It is a world,
as near as we can tell, where every thought is commonplace...every idea is
convenient... and every stock always goes up. We say that not as a calumny.
There is no shame in it. But neither is there any glory. Instead, Kiplinger
must live day to day in the dreary dust of following the crowd...painting
smiley faces on public buildings.
We stand still in awe and wonder. What beautiful minds construct such a
happy, unclouded world? A dear friend of ours believes different areas of
the brain control optimism and pessismism. A stroke many years ago changed
his personality, he says. Before, he had been evenly balanced between lightness
and dark. After the stroke, the windows were always open and the sun always
shone. What has happened to the staff at Kiplinger, we ask? Someone should
check the water in their Washington, DC headquarters. Maybe it could be bottled.
We look on the masthead, expecting to find Abby Joseph Cohen as Editor-in-Chief.
But no. Instead, there is a Mr. Fred W. Frailey, who begins his opening letter
with these intriguing words: "You hate me."
In truth, it had never occurred to us to hate Mr. Frailey. We never even
met the man. We read on with interest to find out what the source of our
animosity was meant to be.
"Just six months ago, I declared on this page that I would not buy
Google's initial public offering because I didn't have the stomach for the
risk that would come with paying so much for the Internet stock," he
writes. So far, so good. But he figures readers are pretty mad, since Google
went straight up afterwards.
Mr. Frailey's mea culpa included an admission that Google's P/E of 118 "freaked
me out." There is nothing particularly astonishing about this. It should
have freaked him out, in our opinion. Unless you really understood the business,
which neither he nor we did, buying Google shares was pure gambling - hoping
that they would go up for reasons that you could neither fathom nor control.
Not buying a stock that would take 118 years' of earnings to pay you back...about
whose business model you don't have a clue...whose managers you've never
met and whose product you barely comprehend...does not sound dumb to us.
But not buying Google had a strange effect on the Kiplinger editor. It made
him feel "stupid," he says. Why? Because the shares went up! How
would he feel if the shares had gone down - smart? As far as we know no actual
connection has ever been discovered between financial publishers' intelligence
and stock market movements, but Mr. Frailey seems to think there is some
link. He is so disturbed by it that it leads him to a breathtaking turnaround.
In "atonement," he tells us that he is buying the shares now -
at $181!
What kind of investment method is this, we wonder? Wait 'til shares go up
in price - and then buy them? We have no Googles in our portfolio to prove
we are smart. And we certainly have no idea where Google shares will go from
here. But we offer this free advice to Mr. Frailey: Think again. Chasing
tech shares up to extraordinary levels does not sound to us like a winning
formula. Crowd following rarely is rewarding - especially when you're at
the tail end of the group.
Mr. Frailey's photo suggests a man with the normal cares of middle age.
But on the cover is a young couple without a care in the world. Man and wife
smile broadly. They're "looking to buy great stocks at good prices." That
certainly sets them apart, doesn't it?
"Where to put your money now," the headline promises. It's a question
loaded with traps and troubles; but it seems so innocent...so easy...so risk-free
in the pages of Kiplinger. For there on page 21, we learn that all is well
in the economy. "Back into balance," says the headline. "Steady
growth - more jobs, low inflation and slightly higher interest rates in 2005." How
Kiplinger knows these things, we cannot tell you. But they report them in
such a matter-of-fact style, you almost believe they are true, rather than
mere wild guesses. Of course, they are not. Kiplinger editors are merely
reporting a consensus view - one which is likely to be right, wrong, or somewhere
in the middle. One thing it is not likely to be is profitable for investors,
since everyone and his half-wit brother reads forecasts like this and invests
accordingly.
But we push on...why not? It is all in good fun.
"The lackluster market for most of 2004 has set the stage for superb
returns in 2005," says old Kip. "Confidence in the economy will
grow...gains of 10% are achievable in the coming year."
Then, the magazine brings out its cover stars for the month - a doctor from
Rockville, Maryland, and his wife, Jessica.
"This is a moment of opportunity," says the sawbones-cum-market-seer,
who "sees opportunity in technology and biotechnology..."
"Given today's interest rates, stocks are, at worst, fairly priced
and perhaps even undervalued," the magazine continues.
Nowhere do the editors admit that they have no more idea than anyone else.
Nowhere do they say...well...at least that's one guess. Nowhere do they have
the modest grace to warn readers that the exact opposite of what they forecast
could also come to pass...and that readers ought to at least take a few precautions.
Instead, they've got the poor schmucks chasing "great stocks at good
prices" at the beginning of what could turn out to be a 15-year bear
market!
But what the heck, it's just money.
And over on page 40, they do acknowledge that things might not go entirely
as planned. "Some professionals believe corporate profits could actually
decline in 2006(!)," they allow. Then, they turn to their handy rolodex
to call up some Wall Street shill pretending to be a pessimist. Stocks, says
David Durst of Morgan Stanley in New York City, may return "half of
what many people think," - or 6%! Wow...what a bear! Won't someone please
stop that man before he cuts his wrists?
We searched all 108 pages of Kiplinger's January issue; we could find no
clouds bigger or darker than Mr. Durst's pathetic little wisp.
Au contraire, the sun is shining everywhere. On page 32, James K. Glassman
tells us it is time to reconsider technology. Growth funds, too, are "ripe
for a comeback" on page 54. Meanwhile, real estate will have "no
bubble trouble," it says on page 67. Instead, "look for another
year of strong home prices." And here we have another insight into Kiplinger's
strange world; it is a world with only buyers. People never sell. "The
youngest baby-boomers are buying up," says the magazine, "and the
oldest are buying up or buying second homes."
What happens when the oldest of the oldest die? What happens when the sun
goes down?
What happens when they switch water companies at the Kiplinger's headquarters?
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