Wednesday, 14 December 2011

Steve Cohen is vague about the rules of insider trading

And practically everything else. It's the only way to be - if you want to keep your sanity. Life is so confusing, ain't it? / It must be hard being the big man at SAC Capital Advisors. Consider the strain of making billions of dollars. Yeah? And with the SEC sticking its nose into everything. Oh, it doesn't bear thinking about. (If a regulator can have a nose, that is. I'm sure a regulator can have a nose. I mean, take a look at the FSA in Britain. The FSA is a dead shark, and sharks - even dead ones that refuse to believe in death - have noses, don't they? Unless degenerate trophy hunters are cutting them off now. I don't know if this happens. It probably doesn't. I know they cut fins off - for fucking soup, the bastards! I'm just glad I'm a vegetarian. Why am I even writing about this?) I, er ...

I'm vague about everything. I have moments of clarity - [indeed, fuck] - like yesterday's moment, but, BUT: most of the time I haven't got a clue. / Don't feel sorry for me. "You" should feel sorry for the poor souls who think they know it all. Ha! / Is there anything to know anyway? Even if you know that two plus two equals four, how does that help you? What does it mean to you - personally? You're still going to die. Jesus! Yes, I can understand why Mr Cohen just sits in a chair all day long, staring at the ceiling, so bloody depressed about everything, really; occasionally glancing at his soft wrists: it must be very tempting. He lets his little monkeys do the trading. And why not? They have all the enthusiasm, apparently. (Are they lucky? Or just young and stupid? Time will tell.) No, I wouldn't want to swap places with Mr Cohen. I'm happy lying on my bed all day long, staring at the ceiling, so fucking depressed about everything, obviously; occasionally glancing at my soft wrists: it is very tempting. But 'I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be'.

I, er ... will snap out of this despair, this mood, this lifestyle, as soon as I've got my shit together. I'm a believer. / I, I believe there's a better life with no grief, no hassle, no frenemies, no money worries, no ***** sexual fantasies, no obstacles, no fractured collarbones, no ... I've had a vision of it, my whole, er, I, I / I can touch it - and be clean, and calm, and happy, and ... Steve knows what I'm talking about. / I don't want to roll in the dirt that dirty FUCKERS have put down for me. Let them ... I mean, it's their dirt! Why do I have to live like a pig just because they are PIGS? It is totally unacceptable! / I wish Steve were here, Mr Cohen. I, er ...

it doesn't matter
it doesn't matter
it doesn't matter
it doesn't matter

Forget this post, reader(s). I won't delete it. (My blog, my rules.) But please forget (for your health) or else ... I'll find you, I will, and you'll wish ... I, er ... oh, you don't want to know. Seriously.

I / fuck