Friday, 22 January 2010

Is President Obama out of his freakin' mind?

Lloyd Blankfein certainly believes so. He phoned me late last night -

Mikey, this is terrible. The banks have to be split up? Can't trade on our own accounts? No hedge funds? Terrible, terrible, terrible. (Yes, Lloyd, it is terrible.) I feel physically sick, and extremely angry! Is this how Sam Giancana felt when the Kennedys tried to close him down? It's bad, Mike. And bad things need to happen now. We have got to do something. (We?) Mikey, how much fucking money have I put in your pocket over the last year or so? Yes, fucking 'we'. You're in this up to your neck! I don't wanna hear any shit about it. (Lloyd, I ain't gonna whack the president. You're as crazy as he is!) I ain't talking about whacking anybody. Jesus! Gotta be more subtle than that. I'm thinking maybe a spell, a curse, you know? Can't you sprinkle some of your hocus-pocus shit on the son of a bitch? (I don't know. This sounds very heavy.) If it's a question of more money ... (It ain't a question of more money, Lloyd. It's morals. I ain't Jack Pickles. You understand me? He's the man you want.) I heard you were Jack Pickles. (Who told you that?) I hear things. (Who the fuck told you that?!) I hear things, Mike. (You hear things? Well, hear this, motherfucker, I ain't putting no curse on the president!)

That was more or less the end of the conversation. I love all the Goldman boys and girls, but I am not sure how much longer I can put up with Lloyd and all his outrageous demands. It's not worth it.