Tuesday, 18 January 2011

Albert Edwards doesn't know if he's too bearish or too bullish

A confused man. And I don't know what he is, this man, this Albert Edwards. I have heard his name mentioned in various places. There is a rumour that he is an analyst at Societe Generale. Associates of mine have seen him in the desert, lurking, not burning.

They say he is a writer of pornographic 'notes' as well. A sort of Henry Miller for the financial community, I suppose. 'The sellside and buyside are locked in a steamy embrace, with the sweet scent of optimism acting like a most potent aphrodisiac.' That is just a small sample of the filth that swirls around in his decadent mind.

O Master, you can talk!

Oh, Big Herb wants a word with you later on. He's not at all pleased with your attempt to seduce your female readers.

I give my readers what they want. You should see some of the emails I get from sex-starved journalists.

What, ladies?

Obviously. What do you think?

I don't know, do I?

Anyway, midnight, the astral plane, be there.

_________________________


Midnight, the astral plane. Yeah, I'll be there. I might have to drag Albert along for moral support.

You don't mind, Albert, do you, if I come for you at midnight? Well, half ten/eleven would be better.

I hope Big Herb doesn't give me a hard time. I'm not in the mood.

Been thinking a lot today about the future of this blog. I don't want to be like Lautreamont. I can't wait that long.

(Those songs are absolutely essential now. I can't do without them. Some of you will be thinking that there's no money in music any more. Oh, there is. Even with HMV on the verge of going out of business. A hit song can generate a lot of money from radio and television. A classic song will bring the money in for decades. The Righteous Brothers' You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling has been played over ten million times on US radio alone. So, short record companies. Go long music publishers.)

If I start doing a lot more writing over the next few months, it will be because I've successfully linked massive pain to doing nothing. A little trick I've picked up from Anthony Robbins. I hope it works. I wasn't going to write this post tonight, but then the thought of watching TV instead almost made me physically sick. I want to be as active as I possibly can. Monday to Thursday, blogwriting. Friday to Sunday, songwriting. I'll take Saturday nights off. I'll squeeze the astral plane in where I can. I'll read in bed.

We better start pathworking soon, if we want to get there by midnight. Albert, mate, are you ready?