CONFIDENTIAL MEMORANDUM (“Debt Rapture & The Great American Margin Call” Edition) To: The Bastards Still Holding the Matches From: OSEF — Office of Strategic Economic Fuckery Date: April 13, 2025 Subject: Phase 5 — Torch the Safe Havens, Sell the Coffins Later Alright, degenerates. Phase 5 ain’t for the faint of heart or the CPA types still clinging to their Series 7 like it's a teddy bear during a home invasion. This is for the real ones—the freaks who looked at a $34 trillion debt pile and said, "We can work with this." Well, guess what? It’s payday in hell. The bond market’s twitching like a junkie in detox. Dollar hegemony? That bitch is on life support, whispering sweet nothings to BRICS while G7 bankers play spin-the-bottle with panic buttons. Let’s paint the scene: The Treasury Department’s standing on the auction block like a half-naked carny barking out, “Buy my debt!”—and nobody's even pretending to look interested. China? Out. Japan? Busy firebombing their own currency. Hedge funds? Ghosted. The only one still showing up is Jerome Powell, and he’s printing money like a teenage counterfeiter hopped up on Monster and macro textbooks. SO WHAT THE HELL HAPPENS NEXT? → Dollar tanks like a fat kid on a diving board. Nobody wants your debt? That means nobody wants your currency either. FX desks implode. Capital flight gets so bad even Cayman Island bankers start filing for asylum. → Yields skyrocket. The US has to offer 10%, 12%, maybe even 15% just to get some lonely Saudi oil prince to bite. Treasuries go from “risk-free” to “economic fentanyl.” Everyone overdoses. → Credit? DEAD. Banks stop lending. Liquidity evaporates. Repo markets lock up harder than a hangover bladder. It’s not a credit crunch—it’s a full-blown financial embolism. → Risk assets get sacrificed. Stocks? Slaughterhouse. Real estate? Fire sale. Corporate bonds? Good luck. The S&P becomes a graveyard, and BlackRock’s quarterly earnings call sounds like a eulogy. → Global trust detonates. Treasuries were collateral. With no collateral, nobody settles shit. Global trade slows to a crawl, cross-border payments get dicey, and hedge funds start hoarding toilet paper again. Congrats—we just turned the world financial system into a bad episode of Survivor. PHASE 5 MISSION DIRECTIVES: → Cash is king—until it’s kindling. Ride the early wave, dump the dollar before it smells like Lehman’s corpse. Timing is everything. Early? You're rich. Late? You're dinner. → Short the sovereigns. Every nation drunk on debt is fair game. Italy? Fuck ‘em. UK? Already circling the drain. France? Pretending it’s fine while lighting baguettes for warmth. → Buy chaos-proof shit. Gold. Guns. Crypto with passwords stored on paper in a goat's rectum buried in the Alps. Land with water. Boats with fuel. Trust no digital ledger that can't be defended with a shotgun. → Sabotage, then save. Destabilize the auction. Short the FX. Crash the confidence. Then sweep in and “rescue” the system for pennies and political favors. → Keep an eye on the auctions. That’s your doomsday clock, ticking in real time. If one fails hard enough, that’s not just a tremor—that’s the starter pistol for financial Ragnarok. They said it could never happen. They said the dollar was invincible. That Treasuries were sacred. That America would always pay its debts. They were right...until they weren’t. And now we’re gonna teach the world what happens when the reserve currency becomes just another piece of toilet paper with an eagle on it. So light your cigars with T-bills, you beautiful lunatics. Phase 5 is where we go full warlord. No more whispering. No more nudges. Just fire, blood, and buy orders timed with despair. We’re not just shorting the system— We’re flipping the whole fucker upside down and charging admission. Stay armed. Stay immoral. Stay untraceable. Phase 6? If we even make it there, it'll be on a raft made of gold and treasuries. With hellbound love, Jonathan “The Liquidator” Handjob OSEF — Chief Instigator, Last Buyer Standing, & Fiscal Anarchist Extraordinaire
Alright, round two (or is it round three?)—this time it's with the goddamn kill shot baked in: The U.S. government defaulting on its debt. The sacred cow just got gutted, and now we’re feasting on the entrails. So buckle the fuck up. CONFIDENTIAL MEMORANDUM (“The Last Gasp of the Dollar and the Sledgehammer Sinkhole” Edition) To: The Burnt Remnants of the Financial Priesthood From: OSEF — Office of Strategic Economic Fuckery Date: June 30, 2025 (or whenever the next bond auction is) Subject: Phase 6 — The Final Phase: Uncle Sam Just Defaulted, and the Game’s Fucking Over Alright, you sick degenerates— This is it. Phase Six. The last stop on this death-train before it careens into the void. No soft landings. No pivots. No deus ex Jerome. Uncle Sam has defaulted. Not a "technical glitch" or "partial delay" or "creative restructuring." No. This is a full-blown, pants-around-the-ankles, hand-on-the-trigger, “we ain’t paying that shit back” default. Let that sink in. The U.S. Treasury—once the crown jewel of global safety—is now a radioactive IOU. That T-bill you thought was safer than grandma’s cookie jar? Worth less than toilet paper now. Bondholders are rioting in every language. The Treasury auction got zero bids—again. They tried to roll it over. They tried to bluff. Markets called their shit, and now the dollar’s bleeding out in the gutter next to the peso and Turkish lira. The trust is gone. The whole damn world watched the empire say: “Sorry, can't make the payments. Good luck with that.” GLOBAL FALLOUT: INSTANT. TOTAL. FUCKED. → Foreign holders? Screwed. China, Japan, the Saudis—they're torching their Treasury holdings and dumping dollars like they’re on fire. Petrodollar? Dead. SWIFT? Fragmented. Nations are screaming “never again” while setting up parallel systems that don’t rely on Uncle Scam. → Bond market? No survivors. The entire curve just collapsed into a black hole. No bid. No liquidity. Just panic. The Fed tried to “backstop” it—market laughed, turned around, and set the repo markets on fire for fun. Primary dealers are running for the exits with their pants on fire and margin calls gnawing at their ankles. The word “contagion” doesn’t even scratch it. → Credit ratings? Ha. Moody’s, S&P, Fitch—those rats tried to play nice, but it’s too late. The United States just dropped below junk. They’re now issuing debt like a meth addict pawning a bloodstained guitar. Interest rates? Double digits, and that’s just for short-term. Long-term? Don’t even exist anymore. Nobody’s lending to a corpse. THE END OF THE DOLLAR ORDER The dollar’s not just falling—it’s in freefall without a parachute. That "reserve currency" status? Gone like Blockbuster. Nobody wants to be paid in a promise that's already been broken. This was the moment we warned you about. This is the moment we engineered. Phase 6 is the Dollar Reset—and it’s biblical. → The Fed? Out of ammo, out of tricks. QE’s dead, QT’s a joke, and Powell’s hiding behind a curtain whispering “transitory” like it’s a prayer. → Social Security? Frozen. Pensions? Gone. Military salaries? Missed. → States? Defaulting next. California’s already bartering for diesel. Texas is issuing its own goddamn scrip. → GDP? Contracting so fast we had to invent new numbers. → Unemployment? Off the charts. But hey, at least the robots are working. YOUR DIRECTIVES, IF YOU WANT TO SURVIVE: → Short U.S. sovereign debt until the chart breaks. This is the last great trade of our time. → Go full barbarian: hard assets only. Gold, ammo, farmland, solar generators, crypto that lives in cold storage—not the cloud. → Relocate capital offshore yesterday. Brazil, Singapore, Kazakhstan—anywhere that doesn’t rhyme with “fed.” → Assume martial law. Assume capital controls. Assume bail-ins. You want freedom? Better be off-grid, off-record, and packing heat. → Prepare for power vacuums. This ain’t just an economic collapse—it’s a regime crisis. The dollar was the empire. The empire just defaulted. You do the math. This is the final curtain call. No bailouts. No buybacks. No bullshit. The United States just nuked its own credit—and the financial system is now a smoldering crater. This isn’t a glitch in the matrix. We broke the whole damn thing. And from the ashes? Something new might rise. But that’s a Phase 7 problem. Until then— Stay liquid, stay loaded, stay the fuck out of fiat. The game’s over. With scorched-earth regards, Jonathan “The Liquidator” Handjob OSEF — Chief Instigator, Fiscal Arsonist, and Dollar Slayer FOR THOSE STILL HUNGRY: Yeah, the country’s burning, but guess what—you can still ride the inferno like a motherfucking king. If you played it right—if you shorted the long end, hoarded bullion, and stored your crypto seed phrase in a bunker under 30 feet of concrete—then congrats. You ain’t just surviving. You're floating past the wreckage on a raft made of gold bars and defaulted Treasuries—waving at the drowning bankers like you're on a goddamn vacation. That’s the final flex. The empire’s gone full kamikaze, but you? You’re still sipping imported whiskey in a world where borders just went back to the knife. --- Ride the collapse. Sell the funeral. Laugh from the raft. We’ll see you in the wastelands. —Handjob, signing off