Neil Barofsky, the special Witchfinder General overseeing the US government's financial rescue efforts, is to probe allegations of shamanistic activity among bank executives and their associates.
He phoned me late last night. He wanted to get something off his chest. No, not a succubus. This is what he told me: 'Mr Fowke, you won't want to hear this, but I am going to speak my mind: I'm sick of all this voodoo shit you have unleashed upon the financial world. Everywhere I turn I am faced with the appalling sight of bankers indulging in unnatural practices - praying to some sort of hellish plant, a big herb (maybe even smoking it); conversing with the spirits of dead financiers; and - most disturbingly of all - picking up inside information from the astral plane. Yes, the astral plane! A sinister realm beyond the reach of the government and the SEC! This cannot continue. So I'll tell you what will happen. If I suspect any bankers of being in league with you and your cohorts and this big plant, I will cut them! Yes, I will cut their arms. If they do not bleed, I will know they are Satan's children. I will employ prickers. Oh yes! They will prick the accused with needles. They will look for the mark of the dark one. Yes, Mr Fowke. Just be thankful that I won't be coming to England to tie you to a chair and throw you in the Thames with that familiar of yours.'
Familiar? Oh, he must have meant that urban fox in my garden. The man is insane! He's talking like I'm Jack Pickles or something.
He phoned me late last night. He wanted to get something off his chest. No, not a succubus. This is what he told me: 'Mr Fowke, you won't want to hear this, but I am going to speak my mind: I'm sick of all this voodoo shit you have unleashed upon the financial world. Everywhere I turn I am faced with the appalling sight of bankers indulging in unnatural practices - praying to some sort of hellish plant, a big herb (maybe even smoking it); conversing with the spirits of dead financiers; and - most disturbingly of all - picking up inside information from the astral plane. Yes, the astral plane! A sinister realm beyond the reach of the government and the SEC! This cannot continue. So I'll tell you what will happen. If I suspect any bankers of being in league with you and your cohorts and this big plant, I will cut them! Yes, I will cut their arms. If they do not bleed, I will know they are Satan's children. I will employ prickers. Oh yes! They will prick the accused with needles. They will look for the mark of the dark one. Yes, Mr Fowke. Just be thankful that I won't be coming to England to tie you to a chair and throw you in the Thames with that familiar of yours.'
Familiar? Oh, he must have meant that urban fox in my garden. The man is insane! He's talking like I'm Jack Pickles or something.
