Tuesday, 3 March 2015

Guy Dunham at Barings

I've found another one! (How many are there?) Another poor soul who thinks he works at Barings Bank. It's just so depressing, man. How can they delude themselves?

And it gets worse. The bank has got a new strategic bond fund now, and our Guy is managing it with yet another mug, Richard Balfour. Christ! Come on, guys, if you're reading this. There ain't no Barings Bank no more. It went out of business in 1995! Yeah, twenty whole years ago. And yet you believe you're working for the bank. It's so pathetic. You're wasting your lives! I'm sure you're talented chaps. There must be loads of real firms, banks and funds, that would love to employ you.

Guy, Dickie, here's my suggestion: Start sending your CVs out today, yeah? Engage with the real world. Get involved with life ... as it is lived today. Don't go chasing ghosts and shadows. Because it will all end in tears, maybe even a padded cell. / Oh, a tip: You better remove Barings Bank from your CVs. It won't look good to future employers, believe me. So, Mr Dunham, you work for a bank that collapsed in 1995. Are you fucking sick in the head, son?! You get me? Just say you've been travelling or something.

...

Anything else? I bought the Nightcrawler DVD yesterday. (I saw it in the cinema.) How this film didn't win any Oscars I'll never know. I'm not even sure it was nominated for anything. The problem is, the film tells, or rather shows, the TRUTH(!) about capitalism and the media. And that's a big fucking no-no, as we all know, know. / Also, the hero of Nightcrawler, Lou Bloom, is an existential outsider - not something your average Oscars voter will have a goddamn clue about.

Did you see Dispatches last night, dear reader(s), on benefit sanctions? People are dying, committing suicide. But who cares, eh? There's an economic recovery in the UK!

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I'm tired of this world ... / I may be an existential outsider, but I'm not like Lou Bloom. The man has no humanity, just like so many insiders, so ... / My guitar will be gently weeping later ...

[Oh, I didn't record Sunday. Couldn't face it, you dig? Nerves and that. I'll try again this coming Sunday.]