Wall street has developed a personality of a crying baby these days. When the news of a potential bailout plan first broke out, the sorrowfully crying baby liked it, and broke into a smile for a couple of trading sessions. The grandmother and grandfathers on the Hill worked their socks off over the weekend to put finishing touches on a $700 billion bailout plan, shortly before a worrying world market opened while Wall Street the baby slept. Both the grandmother in the House and the grandfather-to-be in other House anxiously waited for the wake up of the sleeping baby, a little darling angel for a silent Sunday night. The white-haired grandfather-to-be even cautiously walked to the podium and shooed away the blood-thirsty mosquitoes flying around the baby after the gleaming dawn. The baby rose up from his slumber and, lo and behold, cried in hysteria, without waiting for the $700 billion Lollypop from the grandparents. The House did not buy it and rejected it in the middle of his colicky crying, catapulting the baby into an ever louder howl, as if he is being weaned for the first time. The fallout? All stakeholders have seen their paper wealth evaporated by another layer. My bank is being scooped up by another. Fortunately (or unfortunately, if you think differently), the balance I have is not even worth my worry. Let the crying baby come of age and come to peaceable term with the harsh reality: no bailout for excessive greed. The cows are still mooing in the still green pastureland adorned with brightly yellow chrysanthemum. The birds find no reason to worry about another credit crunch for their lofty mansions in slight disrepair. The squirrels continue their due diligence of harvest in storing up for the incoming winter. Fossil fuel is no substitute for heating. They are counting again on their self-knitted fur coat to endure another cold season. The only layoff is happening with the once leafy corporation of forestry. Lots of green leaves will soon be served pink, red, yellow and purple slips. Life continues.