Wednesday, 29 September 2010

Barclays Wealth names Caroline Simko as managing director and head of global research and investments marketing

I've got a feeling this Simko woman is responsible for leveraging Barclays Wealth's rich intellectual capital and its highly tailored global product offering in support of client service, business development and strategy. [Blah, blah, blah. Words, words, words. They said you were a fishmonger. I didn't believe them.] Just a feeling, mind. But I get these feelings. I get them a lot. And I've got lots of good feelings about Caroline. Oh yeah! I reckon she's going to do a great job. I mean, she's a great girl, after all ... that has happened. Do you not think? Do you not feel? Do you not see? Are you alive? Please tell me you're alive. Just nod your head. Give me a sign! I'm desperate! I don't want to be alone. I know you're there. Inside.

Just like Garett Stoffels, Caroline has an MBA from The Fuqua School of Business at Duke University. I'm sure it will come in handy. It probably has already - who knows? But I think a university education ain't important, not in our world, the world of blood and burnings. I went to the University of Life, myself. Then, after graduation, I went to the University of Death. Snakes all over me. Howlings in the night. I wanted the worms to be my friends. I'll never forget the Hollywood Bowl, Fourth of July weekend, 1968. I wasn't there, of course. I was born in 1969. It's all drifting now, ain't it? I'm not even going to pretend that ... never mind. Reality has to change. It can't stay the same.

Let's play a little jazz. One thought leads to another. One image to another. The next thing you know, you are gone. So let's imagine what death is like. They can only teach you so much, the dead financiers. Professors of death! Ghostly hands touching us! [Were you there?] It doesn't get any better than that. But it's not the same. I tried to prepare. I went down into the darkness. As I say, like Jim, I wanted the worms to be my friends. But it wasn't a permanent arrangement. I came back, into the light, with a smile on my face, and a song in my heart. [Jim's still there. Singing in his grave.] It wasn't death. It was a holiday from life. So let's imagine what death is really like. It goes on and on and on? Well, no, not necessarily. All depends. We could get new lives. I don't know what the ghosts of the dead financiers are planning to do. Can you imagine them in the City again, or on Wall Street? They've had their time; and it suits them, the ghostly life. But you never know, not with them. My guess? We will hardly notice the worms. They will take our bodies, but our souls will get away. Up, up and away! No sensible person wants the worms to be his/her friends. Let's be honest, Jim had some funny ideas. I just hope Guy Hands isn't being led astray. David Wormsley wouldn't say no though.