Brevan Howard is a global alternative asset manager, managing significant institutional assets across a number of diversified strategies. And it's a big macro thing, apparently. But the less said about that, the better.
The last few weeks have been quite bad for many hedge funds. While Brevan Howard has been making way, way, way over a billion dollars, others have been losing dollars, millions and billions of them. Idiots will say Brevan Howard was positioned for a global slowdown. Geniuses will say it had help from mystical forces.
I'm not saying anything. As a genius, I should be saying that Brevan Howard had help from mystical forces. However, I'm tired of saying things, of making statements.
And now I have found a way in. I was a little worried at the beginning. As anyone who's been reading(?) this post will recall, I started off with: 'Brevan Howard is a global alternative asset manager, managing significant institutional assets across a number of diversified strategies.' Lifted from the firm's website, such as it is. It was not a promising start. It made me feel dead. So I was a little worried ... at the beginning. But now I am alive!!! I mean, I feel alive. I am "breathing", so intensely, so magnificently, and I am enthusiastic. I have a theme. It's not the "dead" theme of a rare hedge fund making money. Or other hedge funds losing money. It is the theme of the stupidity of saying things, of making statements. Even geniuses get it wrong, sometimes. No one should say that Brevan Howard had help from mystical forces. [I never said it!] Yes, it's true. But no one should say it. It doesn't mean anything ... ... ... As a vegetarian, I don't eat hamburgers. And I don't want pictures of them. I want pictures of my angel, my Gillian. But none of this means anything. All of it, I suppose, means nothing. And it's too personal, to boot, such nothingness. This is my fresh start. I am a new man. I am desperate to make progress. I'll be taking it one post at a time. I woke up yesterday morning with a melody in my head. A very good sign. It was a gift from God, I reckon.
You can't keep the "personal" out of something like this. After all, I am not a fictional character. I wish I were a fictional character. But I am not. If you cut me, do I not bleed? All over you, and your computer screen, and not just the blood. I'm sure the blood - on its own - would be bearable. It's the emotions that scare you to death. I know. Yes, I know ... ... ... You are not as anonymous as you think you are. You cannot hide from me. I know you're out there. I can smell you. You're an animal. Join the club.
I'm not saying anything. I'm tired of saying things, of making statements. S t a t e m e n t s. You see? There's something there. [Oh, those sickening spaces!] It will never go away. I'll have to learn to live with it. And so will you.
The last few weeks have been quite bad for many hedge funds. While Brevan Howard has been making way, way, way over a billion dollars, others have been losing dollars, millions and billions of them. Idiots will say Brevan Howard was positioned for a global slowdown. Geniuses will say it had help from mystical forces.
I'm not saying anything. As a genius, I should be saying that Brevan Howard had help from mystical forces. However, I'm tired of saying things, of making statements.
And now I have found a way in. I was a little worried at the beginning. As anyone who's been reading(?) this post will recall, I started off with: 'Brevan Howard is a global alternative asset manager, managing significant institutional assets across a number of diversified strategies.' Lifted from the firm's website, such as it is. It was not a promising start. It made me feel dead. So I was a little worried ... at the beginning. But now I am alive!!! I mean, I feel alive. I am "breathing", so intensely, so magnificently, and I am enthusiastic. I have a theme. It's not the "dead" theme of a rare hedge fund making money. Or other hedge funds losing money. It is the theme of the stupidity of saying things, of making statements. Even geniuses get it wrong, sometimes. No one should say that Brevan Howard had help from mystical forces. [I never said it!] Yes, it's true. But no one should say it. It doesn't mean anything ... ... ... As a vegetarian, I don't eat hamburgers. And I don't want pictures of them. I want pictures of my angel, my Gillian. But none of this means anything. All of it, I suppose, means nothing. And it's too personal, to boot, such nothingness. This is my fresh start. I am a new man. I am desperate to make progress. I'll be taking it one post at a time. I woke up yesterday morning with a melody in my head. A very good sign. It was a gift from God, I reckon.
You can't keep the "personal" out of something like this. After all, I am not a fictional character. I wish I were a fictional character. But I am not. If you cut me, do I not bleed? All over you, and your computer screen, and not just the blood. I'm sure the blood - on its own - would be bearable. It's the emotions that scare you to death. I know. Yes, I know ... ... ... You are not as anonymous as you think you are. You cannot hide from me. I know you're out there. I can smell you. You're an animal. Join the club.
I'm not saying anything. I'm tired of saying things, of making statements. S t a t e m e n t s. You see? There's something there. [Oh, those sickening spaces!] It will never go away. I'll have to learn to live with it. And so will you.
