Musings on Markets and Madness from the Last Frontier - Bear-Sighted Observations from the Edge of the Fiscal Abyss: Sharp Wit, Debt Spirals, and Fresh-Cut Timber - Bear J. Sleeman

Musings on Markets and Madness from the Last Frontier - Bear-Sighted Observations from the Edge of the Fiscal Abyss: Sharp Wit, Debt Spirals, and Fresh-Cut Timber —Bear J. Sleeman

As the World Burns, I Split Wood, Sip Hibiki 18, and Watch the Snow Creep Down the Alps

There’s something poetic about chopping wood while the world unravels. The rhythmic swing of the axe, the satisfying crack of the split, the smell of fresh pine mingling with the crisp mountain air—meanwhile, global markets are circling the drain like flushed refuse.

I pour myself three fingers of Hibiki 18, the kind of whiskey that makes you savor each sip, while down below, nations are gulping fiscal poison like it’s happy hour. The snowline on the Alp peaks creeps lower, like a slow-moving omen, while inflation and interest rates climb higher. The colder it gets up here, the hotter the dumpster fire down there.

And me? I’m here on Bear Mountain Ranch, watching it all with the detached amusement of a man who knows the difference between a real axe and the one the world’s governments are grinding.

Black holes are curious things—cosmic death traps lurking in the vastness of space. These massive gravitational pits pull everything toward the Singularity, distorting space and time. Beyond the Event Horizon, the point of no return, even light can’t escape. Cross that line, and you’re done for, stretched and torn apart in the cold void until you’re reduced to atoms. No one knows what’s beyond, but I can’t imagine it’s a place you’d want to explore.

Oddly enough, it’s a fitting metaphor for the fiscal disaster we’re witnessing on a global scale. Early October threw down the latest figures for U.S. debt—on one single day, it spiked by $204 billion. By the weekend, another $347 billion was piled on, and the total hit $35.7 trillion. That’s $105K for every American and a whopping $271K for every taxpayer. How’d we end up here? Simple—decades of reckless spending from both political parties, wars, and the recent COVID bailout frenzy.

The real explosion began after the 2008 financial collapse, and by 2020, the roof was blown off. For over a year, inflation was downplayed—remember that "transitory" nonsense? Then, Jerome Powell slammed the accelerator on rate hikes, aiming to do what Volcker did in the '80s—break inflation’s back. In a way, he succeeded, but at a cost we’ll be paying for generations. U.S. debt interest hit $1 trillion annually for the first time in history.

When you raise rates 500 basis points on a $33 trillion debt, problems follow—massive problems. With trillions of debt rolling over, it’s all getting refinanced at much higher rates. Picture rolling over credit card debt on a national scale—it’s like swapping out an old pair of shoes for spikes and wondering why you’re suddenly bleeding. And nobody’s buying long-term U.S. debt anymore. America’s debt market is morphing into a game of hot potato, and the only ones holding it are hedge funds and tax haven gamblers. Central banks aren’t interested in this bad bet anymore.

That, my friends, is the financial Event Horizon. We’ve crossed the line where the gravitational pull of debt becomes inescapable. It’s the moment where America goes from superpower to something much more fragile. Like Argentina or Turkey, the world’s largest economy is hurtling toward a brick wall, and no amount of wishful thinking is going to save it.

As I sat down to pen these thoughts today, the rhythmic sound of my axe splitting wood echoed across the crisp autumn air here on Bear Mountain Ranch. The mist drifted down from the Northern Alps, settling over Bear Ravine, and the scent of fresh-cut timber lingered around me. It’s the kind of day that makes you pause and reflect on the larger world—how serene it is up here, yet how chaotic things have become down below.

Just like the sniper’s triad—pressure, accuracy, and timing—everything in life requires a keen sense of when to act. But right now, the global debt market seems oblivious to timing, barreling toward a cliff with reckless abandon. If U.S. debt goes “no bid,” what makes anyone think EU or Japanese bonds will be spared? We’re on the cusp of a monumental shift—a financial reset—and it won’t be pretty.

When that reset hits and U.S. debt officially goes “no bid,” brace for impact. Interest rates will spike into double digits, triggering an economic collapse that will shake markets around the world. And as history has shown us, when the collapse comes, gold becomes king. It doesn’t matter how high the bids get—gold will go “no offer.” No one will be selling, and those left holding fiat currencies will be left with nothing but dust.

Gold’s history speaks for itself. Whether in the 1929 stock market crash, the inflation spirals of the '70s, or the 2008 financial meltdown, gold always soared. After Nixon took us off the gold standard in 1971, it shot up over 400%, from $35 to $180. By 1980 and again in 2001, it was the darling of investors as the world grappled with inflation and geopolitical chaos.

We’re staring down the barrel of history once again. Correlations between Western debt, inflation, and sky-high P/E ratios are reaching critical mass, just like they did in 1977, 2000, and 2008. Gold rocketed up 700% in those times, and it’s poised to do it again. This time, though, we’ve passed the point of no return. As currencies crumble under the weight of endless debt, the only solid ground left is in gold.

So here I sit, on Bear Mountain Ranch, as the world inches closer to the brink. The lesson is simple—precision matters. Whether you’re chopping wood or navigating a collapsing economy, timing is everything. When the moment is right, you take the shot.

Now, it’s time to pour myself another stiff glass of Hibiki 18-year whiskey, kick back by the fire, and crank The Jompson Brothers up to 11...

Stay hard.

—Bear Mountain Rancher, signing off from the edge of the world —Bear J. Sleeman