It's at times like this that we ask ourselves: 'Who is Chip Skowron?' Grey sky. There was a bit of sun. This is London. A long way from Connecticut. So, if we asked that question, right now, at a time like this, what would the answer be? [Is he an insider trader?] And who would give us that answer? If a voice out of nowhere spoke to us, could we believe anything it said? [Beauty is only the first touch of terror.] Of course, we like to believe we are in control. [You can believe what you want.] Why isn't my first name 'Chip'? Some guys have all the luck.
O Master, Dr Chip Skowron is a portfolio manager at FrontPoint Partners. I've done my research. Not for me: 'Who is Chip Skowron?' I'm above it!
O my child, your research is worthless! He manages health care hedge funds - so what?! FrontPoint has placed him on leave - who cares?! And there is a rabbi involved. But these are just mere facts. What is a man? A quintessence of dust? No! He must be something more than that, something that is beyond the intellect [intellect, ha!] of a mystical child.
O Master, what would Jesus say?
Go and ask him! Just don't waste my time. I wish I knew who Steve Cohen was. That would be a start. It's one of those days. Times like this. [And I'm not helping.] I'll get those brackets back. I want order. I want control. [You want clarity.] Yes, I want clarity. [It's a real struggle. I'm not sure your readers understand.] Some days, words flow like a river to the sea of God. I mean, they go in the direction of God. Other days, just fragments is all I get. Bits of broken glass stuck in the feet of a shoeless drifter. [Who is the drifter?] I am the drifter, on a day like this.
O Master, we are the stranger, remember?
O my child, I remember. 'Who is Chip Skowron?' It's beyond a joke! [His intellect.] Not mine! [I was referring to the mystical child, that little moron.] Don't be too hard on him. I want my brackets back. [Come and get them.] Do you see, dear reader, what I have to put up with? Would you want this life? [I'll get my violin.] One day it will all be different. [When your ship comes in?] 'Stacy-Marie'.
It's a nice tune!
This is the day of broken glass. Look at my words. Look at all the blood. They have cut me. I am bleeding for you. This is all free of charge.
Take the pain!
What choice do I have?
O Master, Dr Chip Skowron is a portfolio manager at FrontPoint Partners. I've done my research. Not for me: 'Who is Chip Skowron?' I'm above it!
O my child, your research is worthless! He manages health care hedge funds - so what?! FrontPoint has placed him on leave - who cares?! And there is a rabbi involved. But these are just mere facts. What is a man? A quintessence of dust? No! He must be something more than that, something that is beyond the intellect [intellect, ha!] of a mystical child.
O Master, what would Jesus say?
Go and ask him! Just don't waste my time. I wish I knew who Steve Cohen was. That would be a start. It's one of those days. Times like this. [And I'm not helping.] I'll get those brackets back. I want order. I want control. [You want clarity.] Yes, I want clarity. [It's a real struggle. I'm not sure your readers understand.] Some days, words flow like a river to the sea of God. I mean, they go in the direction of God. Other days, just fragments is all I get. Bits of broken glass stuck in the feet of a shoeless drifter. [Who is the drifter?] I am the drifter, on a day like this.
O Master, we are the stranger, remember?
O my child, I remember. 'Who is Chip Skowron?' It's beyond a joke! [His intellect.] Not mine! [I was referring to the mystical child, that little moron.] Don't be too hard on him. I want my brackets back. [Come and get them.] Do you see, dear reader, what I have to put up with? Would you want this life? [I'll get my violin.] One day it will all be different. [When your ship comes in?] 'Stacy-Marie'.
It's a nice tune!
This is the day of broken glass. Look at my words. Look at all the blood. They have cut me. I am bleeding for you. This is all free of charge.
Take the pain!
What choice do I have?
