Yellenerdämmerung

The year in central bank lame duckery.
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It’s almost over now. Just a few more weeks and one more meeting, and America’s first female central bank chief will go into well-earned retirement. In reality, of course, her final full year at the helm was over before it started; President Grab’em By The Pussy may have pretended that she wasn’t doomed to become the first Fed chair not to leave the job of her own volition in almost 90 years on Nov. 8, 2016. And she even played along for a while. But there was no way she could overcome a unique constellation of impediments to winning this season of The Apprentice: Federal Reserve Chair, specifically Trump’s well-aired suspicions of her, the Obama stink all over her, her lack of a penis and, perhaps most importantly, her competence.

Trump.Yellen

On the bright side, she’s undoubtedly surprised and relieved that her successor will be Jay Powell and not Gary Cohn or Neel Kashkari or Kevin Warsh. And in spite of fears that her 2017 would be spent putting out economic fires lit by the president, the presence in the Oval Office of a deranged megalomaniac with the intellectual and emotional bearing of a sugared-up attention-deficit-disordered six-year-old, the year was eerily quiet from a central banker’s perspective, allowing Yellen to be at her bureaucratic and even-keeled best. And also to enjoy her farewell tour: One last visit with Jeb Hensarling, one last chance to get deep into her cups at Jackson Hole, launching the end of the quantitative easing program she was so instrumental in building, having laurels thrown at her feet.

What comes next—the consequences of that unwinding, the consequences of Trump’s tax heist, whatever the hell bitcoin is gonna do—is not her problem anymore. J-Yells out.

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