Something has been revealed about the psychology of the nation’s capital. When investors in New York become gripped by fear, they pull inward. When Washingtonians are gripped by fear, they rush outward, with bigger and more daring plans. The risk tolerance in the financial world has shrunk to zero, but the risk tolerance in the political world has risen to infinity.

Once America was a decentralized country, but now all roads lead to Washington. Mighty C.E.O.’s abase themselves before junior House members. Governors and mayors come groveling. The status of the lowliest bureaucrat has risen delightfully, and there is a feeling of overflowing abundance amid the national scarcity as Washington spends the trillions it doesn’t have. Such is the local boom that your humble ambassador can drive from his residence, and in a few minutes he can count 10 McMansions under construction.

And this leads, sad to say, to the third layer of emotion: anxiety. Many of those swept up in the excitement of this historical moment also have the nagging sensation that perhaps the laws of gravity, economics and history have not been repealed. Perhaps Mr. Obama’s talents, while great, are not as great as his self-confidence. Perhaps the New Deal paradigm everybody is applying doesn’t actually fit the circumstances. Certainly something big needs to be done to calm this crisis, but perhaps in the doing, some unholiness is being unwittingly and rashly created.

Why is it, some ask, that America is so slavishly following the same failed route earlier taken by the Japanese  from bank capitalization, to industrial bailouts to infrastructure spending? Why is it that the pork-meisters in Congress are already distorting the best-laid stimulus plans? Why are there so few saying “no” to any budget request? Why do so many of the plans being offered rely upon a Magic Technocrat  an all-knowing Car Czar who can reorganize Detroit, an all-seeing team of Olympians who decide which medicines doctors will be allowed to prescribe?

The wisest Americans are throwing piles of money around, while looking nervously for signs of fiscal ruin. Your humble ambassador will remain your eyes and ears, and will scoop up any stray billions he finds lying around.