Tuesday, 13 May 2008

Norm Pearlstine goes to Bloomberg

Some exciting news. Or maybe not. Norm Pearlstine has got a new job as chief content officer for Bloomberg. He used to be the editor-in-chief for Time magazine, but now he's at Bloomberg you would expect him to be very happy. You could say that the world was his oyster - if you wanted to, of course.

But there is a great sadness in Norm's life. A very great sadness. The problem is he wanted to be the content officer for my blog. Yeah, this blog here. I tried explaining to him that it was a one-man operation, but he just burst into tears. He had visions, you see. Visions of the great Michael Fowke taking him under his wing (that's my wing), and teaching him the way of the shaman. Well, in my time, I've taught a great many people. A lot of them are household names now - as long as you live in a crazy, fucked-up house where everyone, even the kid with the snotty nose, is obsessed with finance, and what are the odds of that? But I digress. Basically, I had to offer Norm some kind of consolation prize. I couldn't give him a job, but I could give him the weekend of his life in the desert. Yes, I gave poor Norm a crash course in financial shamanism. AND IT WAS A DISASTER! Let me tell you - that boy is no shaman. Some of us have got it, and some of us ain't. He ain't got it. Don't believe me? Okay. We actually had the following conversation in the desert. Read it and weep -

Master, why is there a burning in my heart? My child, that is the burning of money. The burning will become more intense, but you will learn to love it.

O Master, I fear it may be heartburn. O my child, for the love of Christ, don't make me laugh. You are in the desert. The desert where money burns. It is money that burns within you.

Master, I saw a ghost last night, and I was scared. What should I do if I ever see it again? My child, you can grow a pair of balls for starters. Ghosts are our fucking business, mate. If you're scared of ghosts, you ain't got no future in the shamanism game.

Master, I often hear you talking to yourself. Why do you do that? My child, you're taking the piss, right? I'm praying to Big Herb, or conducting a bit of business with the aforementioned ghosts! I do not talk to myself!

O Master, I'm sorry. There is so much for me to learn. When will I learn? You tell me, mate. I've had about enough of this. You come to me with a fucking sob story - how no one has given you a chance to make it as a financial shaman. My child, you wouldn't even cut it as a money mystic. Honestly, you're a washout. Go and get a fucking job with Bloomberg. That's your best bet. Bloomberg will take anyone. In all my fucking years I've never …

Then I really lost it. But you get the general idea. He'll be all right at Bloomberg though. I'm sure he will.