And snatched them away from MF Global. We are talking about Mark Edwards, David Thompson, and Paul Somers. Traders. Certainly not the sort who would be arrested in the Tottenham Court Road. Sales, apparently. It'll be analysts next. I just got a feeling.
O Master, I know your feelings.
What can you do with a man like Simon Stilwell? He thinks money souls belong to him in the night. Jack Pickles started off with the same attitude. These people never learn. This is the way that leads to hell. You cannot take a man from his bed [asleep, a corpse in a grave almost] and drag that man out of the window, through the bushes in the garden, then bundle him into the boot of the car like a sack of spuds. Where is the dignity in that? At least it wasn't an ice cream van. Imagine going out like a raspberry ripple!
O Master, I have imagined worse things.
Back to headquarters for reprogramming. Erase all traces of MF Global. Oh, the evil that men do! What horrors there must have been, far from the prying eyes of concerned ghosts. And they are concerned, you know. The dead financiers do have a heart. They share it. It was ripped out of the body of [nothing]. I will not be telling that story. I am approaching the edge. And there is a ledge beyond the edge. And that's something else, a ...
O Master, a tangent?
What did Liberum Capital do to the traders? How did Simon Stilwell break them down? Mark, David, and Paul were happy at MF Global. They didn't want to leave. Well, not like this. In time, they would have found new positions. There are no jobs for life any more. But these are jobs for death! These men are nothing but trading zombies now, going through the motions, with no spiritual action taking place within them. A human tragedy!
O Master, you want human tragedy?! How about Gabriel Azedo? No one knows who he is!
O my child, you are driving me insane with your fucking Gabriel Azedo! Does anyone know who anyone is? We are all strangers in a strange land.
All right, calm down, calm down.
You're making me laugh now. Don't do that voice.
Well, someone had to lighten the mood. So what will become of these traders? What does the future hold for them?
Oh, they have no future. Weren't you paying attention? What future could such zombies possibly have? But maybe they are the lucky ones. We are the ones who live with pain. Look at me. Every day my consciousness expands, but what good does it do me? I am the king of pain.
Sting is the king of pain, mate.
Whatever.
