O John Duffield, confidence is … the wind in the desert. A hunk, a hunk of burning money. The fire in the eyes of a shaman. The sand in your shoes. The rays of the sun inside. The dead vulture. Rune stones vibrating for you. Your chakras whirling in your own personal astral sky. A turquoise gown. Keith Busby's laugh. Bob's bonus. Music. Dancing. Campfire. Ghosts around the fire. The dead ones.
O John Duffield, let the dead ones dance for you! The old financiers who live forever! Ghosts that come to you in your darkest night, and drag you into the desert. But they do it with love! O John, let them take you!