Friday, 6 May 2011

There's a Goldman Sachs AGM today ...

And a lot of sad people are getting excited about it. They think Lloyd Blankfein is going to rip all his clothes off, and roll around on the floor, and cut himself, and shout and holler, because that's how freedom affects bankers who have been at one bank for so very long. Maybe the meeting will be over by the time I've written this post - who knows? But Lloyd won't be free. He's staying at Goldman Sachs for a while yet.

I know Lloyd. I know all the top guys. None of them need an excuse to rip their clothes off, and roll around, and reach for the razor or the scalpel. It's the culture there. I'm the one who instilled it. It's difficult to be serious and straight all the time. You have to relieve the pressure. And there's a lot of pressure at Goldman Sachs. Like you wouldn't believe. They work a hundred hours a week, you know. They never see the physical sun. And the astral sun has gone.

A hundred hours? Almost in my league. Well, next week. Yes, next week. Another one of my infamous fresh starts. How many is that now? I've lost count. I need someone to discipline me, and not just in my work. If only someone would rip my clothes off, and roll me on the floor, and then slash me with a razor! It would be a good start. We've all got to start somewhere. Rome wasn't built in a day. A long journey is taken with a small step, I think.

What do you want? Why are you reading this? Would you like me to come and see you, naked? Home or office? I'll bring the razor, or the scalpel. You'll just have to lie there, on the carpet. Or rather, roll there, with the blood and the fibres from the carpet all mingled. I know you want it. It will make you better, or make you so ill that you won't care any more. Either way, it will be a massive result for you.

You must believe I'm a sadist, or a masochist (I insist). I want to share the love. Let's get rid of the tension. The oblivion of pleasure is waiting for us. All we've got to do is dive in. And I hope you understand that I didn't want to write any of this. However, I must obey my subconscious. That's the way to greatness. I'm not one of these scaredy-cats, writing my way to bland death. So, feel more alive, reading me ... not them.