Thursday, 23 August 2007

Deranged bankers in the City of London

O bankers, with your wallets stuffed full of cash, with your mouths full of champagne, will you bow down and pray to Big Herb? He will help you to become ill. To reach the unknown you must become deranged. To fund your lavish lifestyles you must plunge into the abyss of the stock market. For it is written.

Would one treacle skeleton make you happy? Or do you need two? How much is enough? Do not give in to feelings of guilt. Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law! See the clouds gather over Threadneedle Street. There is gold in them clouds!

There will come a time when all the money ghosts are driven from the City. Do not fear! Money vampires? They are harmless. But look into your heart. Guard against the loss of spiritual fortunes that wrestle with the pain of debt and the loneliness of poverty. Beware the cold nights when money dances in your dreams - out of reach! Out of reach, but oh so close! Touch it! Touch the money. Breathe this money. Money will burn you, and you will learn to love the burning. You men and women from UBS, from Merrill Lynch, from ABN Amro, from Goldman Sachs, from Deutsche Bank, from - oh, from wherever, feel the burning. Love the burning! This is your salvation. If you cannot love this burning, who can?

Listen to me, for I know the truth. You must become deranged. Shave your heads, slash yourselves with knives, do anything that seems insane to the normal souls around you. Money loves those who have no fear. Take the pain! You will become a magnet for all the riches of the world. Out of your derangement you will find a new strength. Gold will glitter in your eyes, and your minds will swim through a sea of cash. O bankers, I speak the truth. Let this truth burn you.