Not very long ago Representative Alan Grayson had the opportunity to question Elizabeth Coleman, the Fed’s Inspector General for the Board of Governors, the office responsible for audits and investigations. Liz claims to have no clue as to where the Fed put $9 trillion over the past 8 months. Seems to me a simple enough question. Seems to me $9 trill is no “mere bag of shells”. Its not exactly like misplacing the car keys. It kinda makes you wonder what they’re doing over there at the Office of Inspector General, since they obviously aren’t watching the money flow.

Liz claims her office has a “review” underway, so she doesn’t know anything yet. How come my tiny local bank can immediately account for every penny, and yet the Fed doesn’t seem to have a database to query? Plausible to you? Seems to me there wouldn’t be any materials to review at the Fed that wouldn’t include numbers and names. How could you even start a review at the Fed without there being dollar amounts listed on the very first document you look at? And hey, if those folks sitting behind her know what she should be saying, why doesn’t Grayson just question them? (By the way, I’m pretty sure that smart looking woman sitting back there said “Don’t mention Goldman Sachs”, as I’m a pretty fair lip reader.) And anyway, just how good an accountant do you need to be to get Coleman’s job? ‘Cause I know some really good accountants.

In case you don’t understand the complicated machinations of the Fed and Capitol Hill, here’s a similar line of discourse that may help:

Papa: Now Johnny, you’re the eldest, can you tell Papa what happened to that really big bag of candy I saw you guys holding earlier?
Johnny: Well, me and Bobby and Mary, we’re starting a review, so we don’t really know.
Papa: Mama saw empty candy wrappers scattered about your room. Any idea where those came from?
Johnny: I didn’t talk to Mama yet about any candy bags.
Papa: That’s not what I asked you. What did you guys do with the candy?
Mary: (whispers something to Johnny)
Johnny: Ah, we’re looking into that, so we can’t say. (Holds back a smirk.)
Papa: (remaining amazingly composed) Well, you better eat all your dinner.

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