Wednesday, 2 April 2014

The FBI is probing high-frequency traders

Yeah, it sounds nasty. But it's what the traders deserve. I don't know what the Feds are doing it with, the probing. 'Iron bars, Mikey, like with Gaddafi!' What, Voice?! Christ! Don't let your imagination run away with you. For Christ's sake! I only had breakfast a little while ago. You're sick, you are! 'Sorry, boss.' / Jesus ... Where was I? Oh yes, these high-frequency traders. I've got no sympathy for them. Why can't they trade like decent, normal human beings? Why do they need computers? 'Computers are the future, man. Robots and that.' Robots? They'll all be out of a job when the robots take over. I just wonder what the robots will spend their bonuses on. 'Nuts and bolts.' Nuts and bolts? You can't eat nuts and bolts, Voice. 'Robots can. They love them.' Whatever.


Me, I still go for the traditional cheese sandwich. That's what I've got for lunch. And crisps, yoghurt, can of Coke. No surprises. 'Are you thinking of lunch already?' Yeah. I'm hungry again. 'Lunch is for wimps.' Shut up!

I'm listening to The Very Best of Mott the Hoople. Their best song was written by Bowie, of course.

I'll be working on No. 207 later. / I won't be writing about robots, or finance.