Well, according to characters who know, he's this former SAC Capital Advisors hedge fund guy who has been charged (and bailed) with a $276 million insider trading bit of nonsense. I'll be honest with you: I don't follow the news much these days. I'm bored with it. I mean, it's the same shit all the time, ain't it? There's always going to be hedge funds opening and closing, and there's always going to be people ripping other people off, and there's always going to be characters writing about it like it means something. Oh, it means nothing. Just last night I was staring at the moon. (Through the clouds and all.) I wasn't thinking of Mathew Martoma. Man, last night, I hadn't even heard of Mat. But then I wake up this morning and I surf the net, and this is what happens - a post like this. What the hell is it all about?
If you're a regular reader, you know what my plans are. If I can get a publishing deal for my songs, I'll reduce my posting here to just thirty or forty times a year: and it will be all conceptual stuff beyond finance, a-ROUND and a-ROUND. Then I'll be happy. And I'll be free. I'll be clean. I'll be aloof. I'll be a-WAY with the fairies - permanently. / It's my destiny. (I can feel it.) I'm going to make it happen. / I've been covering the financial crisis for five years. That Jamil Baz reckons we've got another twenty years of it to look forward to! Ha! Only a nutter would believe I'd write about it for twenty years. / So, conceptual literature is the future. It's got to be - or else I'll go insane. 'And write about banks and hedge funds for another twenty years, Mikey.' Yeah, Voice. A fate worse than death.
Maybe I need a holiday, a proper one. / I only went to Cornwall for five days this year. / I still think about my holiday. / You know, I was in a dream world for those five days, just walking around in a daze. It was so hot, and I had ice cream and cider and pasties, and the sea was liquid silver, and the sky was salmon pink. / I had moments you want to hold on to forever. / Outside, the sky is grey. It's cold now.
All this, it ain't healthy. The few finance writers I've met have been like something from the pages of a Dennis Wheatley novel. / Christ. Why did I get involved?
If you're a regular reader, you know what my plans are. If I can get a publishing deal for my songs, I'll reduce my posting here to just thirty or forty times a year: and it will be all conceptual stuff beyond finance, a-ROUND and a-ROUND. Then I'll be happy. And I'll be free. I'll be clean. I'll be aloof. I'll be a-WAY with the fairies - permanently. / It's my destiny. (I can feel it.) I'm going to make it happen. / I've been covering the financial crisis for five years. That Jamil Baz reckons we've got another twenty years of it to look forward to! Ha! Only a nutter would believe I'd write about it for twenty years. / So, conceptual literature is the future. It's got to be - or else I'll go insane. 'And write about banks and hedge funds for another twenty years, Mikey.' Yeah, Voice. A fate worse than death.
Maybe I need a holiday, a proper one. / I only went to Cornwall for five days this year. / I still think about my holiday. / You know, I was in a dream world for those five days, just walking around in a daze. It was so hot, and I had ice cream and cider and pasties, and the sea was liquid silver, and the sky was salmon pink. / I had moments you want to hold on to forever. / Outside, the sky is grey. It's cold now.
All this, it ain't healthy. The few finance writers I've met have been like something from the pages of a Dennis Wheatley novel. / Christ. Why did I get involved?
