Wednesday, 22 September 2010

Vince Cable is emotional, and odd

There was also that large painting Uhde had told me about, which was later called Les Demoiselles d'Avignon, and which constitutes the beginning of cubism. I wish I could convey to you the incredible heroism of a man like Picasso, whose spiritual solitude at this time was truly terrifying, for not one of his painter friends had followed him. The picture he had painted seemed to everyone something mad or monstrous. Braque, who had met Picasso through Apollinaire, had declared that it made him feel as if someone were drinking gasoline and spitting fire, and Derain told me that one day Picasso would be found hanging behind his big picture, so desperate did this enterprise appear. - Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler

People say that I'm emotional and odd. Not the CBI. It wouldn't dare. Other people. But I'm emotional and odd in a good way. I'm a mystical capitalist. I'm a financial shaman. I'm a financial writer. Not like any other writer. Who else uses the visionary language of Rimbaud and Lautreamont to discuss hedge funds, banks, bankers, and traders? Who would dream of doing such a thing? Certainly not the cold earth wanderers, with their cold words, and their even colder hearts and minds. Rimbaud would approve, if he were alive. He went into business, remember? Guns and slaves. Not very politically correct. But he was a demon of the nineteenth century. I am a demon of the twenty-first century. I have my own outrages. And I'm sure Lautreamont would approve. He wanted to smash the grid of the reality that common men and women are trapped in, like flies in jam. That's what I've been doing. But not just the reality of bankers and traders. Oh no. Writers too. No respectable [square] literary figure would have dreamt [nightmared?] of writing about finance and banking and MONEY with the sort of passion and enthusiasm that I have brought to the table. And what other serious writer would have had the imagination and the balls to abandon the printing press and the established forms for such an uncertain future in the world of blogs? No, I am on my own, for the time being. I am not afraid.

But I digress. I should be writing about that other emotional and odd man, Vince Cable. Unfortunately, this man is not a visionary. He's not a man who can see other realities. He's not even in touch with normal reality. This is what he says: 'On banks, I make no apology for attacking spivs and gamblers who did more harm to the British economy than Bob Crow could achieve in his wildest Trotskyite fantasies, while paying themselves outrageous bonuses underwritten by the taxpayer.' Did every bank take money from the taxpayer, then? First I've heard of it. Barclays did not take a penny. HSBC did not take a penny. Vince is just saying whatever pops into his little socialist head. It's so emotional, isn't it? And terribly odd!

I don't want to see this man on TV any more. I don't want to hear him on the radio. I don't want him in our glorious government. I may have to do something. A curse, maybe. Nothing too extreme. Or maybe I should banish him to the Shadowlands. Well, for a while, anyway. Six months or so. I wouldn't leave him there. I'm not a cruel shaman. But if I allowed him to come back, he would have to behave himself. He would have to stop attacking the bankers. I know they're not perfect. Many of them have absolutely no interest in mystical capitalism. But at least they love money. And anyone who loves money in this crazy world has half a chance of salvation. You take the money, my children, then you transcend it. Do you understand? This is the way. I teach it to you, children, like I was taught, by my Masters. There is nothing else. Not for us.