Thursday 2 June 2011

Nothing for the hedge fund freaks, I'm afraid

I know I sort of promised yesterday, but I've got one of my killer migraines and it's really painful just looking at the computer screen, let alone surfing the net looking for news of what total strangers are getting up to with their lives. I've got my own life (sort of). But maybe later on, today, or tomorrow. I know what you're thinking: 'Mikey, you're letting everyone down. We're relying on you. Tomorrow never comes. Pull your finger out!' Oh, tomorrow will come, I promise. Cut me some slack. I just hope it's not a brain tumour.

'I ain't going off to some goddamn fancy college. I'm staying right here, having fun, as usual.' American Graffiti. Modesto, California. Before The Beatles. Before the death of Kennedy. Before Vietnam. Cruising around in cars, listening to Wolfman Jack on the radio. Burgers. The freshman hop. The Pharaohs - with a blood initiation? I wouldn't say no. I wouldn't mind living in that reality forever. It beats real life. 'The Wolfman is everywhere!' I'd like to be the Wolfman. 'The places he talks about, that he's been. The things he's seen.' Imagine being the Wolfman!

Imagine being a character in a film. Imagine being frozen like that. Or a character in a blog. 'The financial shaman is everywhere!' That's true. I am everywhere. And the places I talk about, that I've been. The things I've seen.

When the collapse comes, I'll see more. Visions in my cave. I'll get a cave in Cornwall. I'll grow vegetables. I'm almost looking forward to it. And I'll venture out, every now and then, into the chaos. There will be plenty of opportunities for people like me. Sociopaths always do well in a crisis. We don't wet our pants when we can't pay the bills.