Ghost to shaman

I was afraid of being completely ruined and I decided on leaving Shoa.

Where are you now?

I don't know. But I got back to Aden on July 25, 1887 with 8000 thalers in bills of exchange and around 600 thalers in cash.

They are no use to you, now that you are dead.

I am not dead!

I'm afraid you died in 1891.

But I have poems in my heart, in my soul.

That's as maybe, but you are still dead.

Who are you - er, Michael?

Yes. Another dreamer.

I still have to pay, you know. In addition to the caravan expenses. 3000 thalers for …

Don't worry about that now. Actually, you have paid.

I am a proud capitalist!

Aren't we all?

Menelik II, King of Shoa, Kaffa, and the lands of the Gallas, sends his regards.

Fuck him. You don't need him.

But the 300 rifles!

Forget about the rifles! You're getting confused. Think about your weeping heart.

Drooling spit?

Fuckin' A!

Arthur Samberg is closing Pequot Capital

What? Why? Who? Yeah, I know, it's confusing. I can't keep up myself. So many traders and hedge fund managers are being investigated, fined, banned, arrested, you name it. Sometimes I despair.

O Master, please do not have another breakdown.

What do you mean, another breakdown?

O Master, you know what I mean.

Shut it.

Dear reader, do you see what I have to put up with? It's bad enough hearing bad news all day long, but I've got these voices as well: mystical children from the desert, spirits from the other side, thought-forms from my subconscious. And people wonder why I'm a little 'eccentric'. Jesus!

Nilesh Shroff: fined and banned by the FSA!

What the fuck?! What is it with these FSA motherfuckers? Why are they banning and fining all my dearest friends at Morgan Stanley? This is persecution! First Matt Piper, then David Redmond, now Nilesh Shroff. Yes, Nilesh - a former Morgan Stanley trader - has been fined £140,000! Jesus H. Christ! Does the FSA think he is made of money?

I have been speaking to Nilesh, and this is what he told me: 'Mikey, man, why me? What have I done to deserve this, man? (Nilesh, mate, it's spite, pure and simple.) You reckon? (Yeah. These FSA nutjobs see you burning in the desert with me, Big Herb, Ganesh, and the ghosts of the dead financiers, and they don't like it.) You're saying they're cold earth wanderers, Mike. Is that what you're saying? (Of course. They don't care that you were pre-hedging or any shit like that. What winds them up is the fact that you have the mystic love inside you.) The mystic love of money, yeah? (Fuckin' A, Nilesh! The mystic love of money. That's what I'm talking about. That's what the ancients believed in. They passed that love down to us, and -) It burns within us, Mike. (Of course it fucking does. Now, if the FSA can't handle that, it's not our problem. Fuck 'em.) We'll have the last laugh, Mike. (Fuckin' A we will! We'll be the ones having it large this summer.) The ceremony in the desert, you mean? (What else? It will all come good in the summer, mark my words.) Man, you're like a god to me, you know that, don't you, Mikey? (Hey, I'm only a shaman, but you never know. Maybe one day.) It's gonna happen, man.'

What about that, eh? Nilesh Shroff. What a trader! What a man!

Robert Maguire has been hired by Perella Weinberg Partners

Yes, he has. Rejoice! According to my sources - and I think we have to believe the bums - Mr Maguire is going to be a partner at PWP. Interestingly, Bobby worked at Morgan Stanley for more than twenty years, and he will now be reunited with old colleagues from the bank: Joe Perella, Paulo Pereira, and Derek Starr-Child. Only one problem. Bobby and Derek once had a bad trip together in the desert. They have not spoken to each other since. Or rather, Bobby refuses to speak to Del.

Well, I am one person who is on speaking terms with Del. This is what the mad bastard told me: 'Mike, Bobby Maguire really hates me. There's a lot of bad blood between us. Bobby still blames me, you know. (For the bad trip, you mean?) Well, yeah, bad for him, man. I was the experienced one. I should have known. I should have looked out for him. (What happened, Del?) He had visions, man. And he heard voices. (So?) Bad visions, man. Bad voices. (It happens to the best of them, Del. But it’s nothing to piss your pants over.) Mikey, he saw the devil. He heard the voices of all the damned. (And he didn't like that, no?) Oh man, what do you think? Bobby is a great guy, but he's a square. I should have never taken him out there. Something else, I think there was touch of jealousy in his attitude towards me afterwards. (What do you mean?) Well, while he was being tormented by the sights and sounds of hell, I was having a realization about the nature of God and our relationship with Him. (Get the fuck outta here!) No, it's true, Mike. I realized that religion is just man-made shit, man, and that God has no truck with it. God is the spiritual force of the cosmos. A truly spiritual person worships life when they worship Him. But He is not a he anyway, you dig? He is not a personality. Just a thing, man. A force. This force gives you what you need and what you deserve. So there is no point in praying to ask for stuff. When you ask God for help, you are encouraging demonic forces to enter your life. (Why?) Because you should not ask. It is evil to ask. And it is evil to lose faith. You've heard stories of religious dudes who have lost their faith, yeah? (Oh yeah.) Their wife dies in an accident or something, and suddenly they don't believe in God no more. (Yeah.) Well, those cats never loved God in the first place, man. It was just like a protection racket for them, man. (Far out!) You dig? (Fuckin' A, I do, Del.) So that's the secret, Mike. Love God. Love life. Don't ask for shit. Don't expect shit. And you'll be all right.'

Jesus H. Christ! No wonder Bobby Maguire was pissed at him.

Because I am bored …

I am posting on a Sunday. But not tomorrow. I will have nothing to say tomorrow. I actually have nothing to say today, but I will say it anyway.

There is an emptiness here. There usually is. But now it seems emptier. Can emptiness seem emptier than before? If you have no money in your wallet, can you take out more than …

Forget that. We were not heading anywhere with that. Are we heading anywhere with this?

No.

There is a death in these words. But behind them is something worse. If I were to stop -

O Master, please do not stop.

O my child, there is no need for you to worry. I will not stop until the end. If I have no reason to continue, I certainly have no reason to stop.

Thank Christ for that!

No. Thank someone else. Or something else. Thank the force that pushes me along to my destiny.

Xavier Rolet: 'I can feel the beat of what's going on'

What's going on, eh? As the great Marvin Gaye once sang. What's going on? Well, Xavier Rolet, the new chief executive of the London Stock Exchange, knows what's going on. He can feel the friggin' beat of it, I shit you not.

I have been speaking to Mr Rolet, and this is what the mystic joker told me: 'Mikey, man, these are exciting times. Can you feel the beat of the cosmos banging in your head, shaking your teeth to fuck? (I can, Xavier. I can.) Well, that's what’s going on, man. The whole cosmos is getting ready to go crazy for money, man. There is everything to play for. And you know me, Mike. I love to love, but my baby just loves to dance. (Tell me more, Xavier, man.) Well, get this, I was freaking out like a nut on the astral plane the other night, a few minutes before midnight, and I was loving it, man. I was in touch with such spirits as I never knew existed. (Beings from other realms, like?) Fuckin' A! Mike! (Well, astral realms, of course. What am I saying?) Yeah. And I saw my baby dancing in an astral waste land. (No!) Oh yes. Frisch weht der wind, der heimat zu, mein Irisch kind, wo weilest du? You dig, man? (Oh man, I dig!) And that was enough for me, man. (It would be enough for anyone, Xavier.) Damn straight.'

Wow! The London Stock Exchange is in safe hands now. You better believe it, baby. Keep on dancing!

I was dancing when I was eight. Is it strange to dance so late? I danced myself into the tomb. Is it strange to dance so soon?

No, it's perfectly normal. I wouldn't worry about it.

David Redmond: banned by the FSA!

Okay, okay, I've changed my mind. I will write a post today. This one, in fact. I am not as depressed now as I was this morning.

So, who the fuck is David Redmond? You may well ask, dear reader.

David Redmond was a trader at Morgan Stanley, but he has just been banned by the FSA. Apparently, he concealed his trading position or something.

Well, David is a friend of mine. Yes, I do know who he is. I've spent time with this man in the desert, and he is a good sort. I wish the FSA would stop hassling my mates. I will have to take action if this continues.

Anthony Webster sent to jail!

Eh? Who's Anthony Webster? You may well ask, dear reader.

Anthony Webster was a high-flyer - as they say - at Barclays, but he has just been sentenced to three years in jail for stealing money from Sir Victor Blank and various other characters. Rather comically, some recorder (judge?) or something at his trial said fraud in society was a growing problem. You can say that again! When are our MPs going to get their collars felt?

As for Sir Vic, he will definitely be looking for somewhere safer now where the feeling stays. And he will most probably try to love you, dear reader, as long as he doesn't get blown away.

This is not the way

This is not the way. That's the fucking way. Covered in blood. Like the old days.

O Master, put your sheet back on!

Fuck off! That sheet was killing me. I could hardly breathe. Money in my mouth. My mouth burnt to fuck. White heat. White sheet. Shades. Flames! The words of dead financiers in my ears, that were bleeding. You didn't see the worst of it. You didn't know the horror. I did not tell you everything.

O my children, my brothers, my sisters, I was trying to protect you. But I do not know, I do not know, for how much longer I will be able to keep this up. Forces beyond my control want control over you. If they get you, the markets will face a disaster (stop singing those songs, I beg you) that will make the credit crunch seem like a picnic. They are diseased! It is an attack of -

O Master, is this automatic writing?

Fuck off! I won't tell you again. I am listening to the other ones. And I am seeing what they see. They are showing me everything. THEY MUST BE STOPPED!

O Master, they want to hurt you! PUT YOUR FUCKING SHEET ON!!!

Tom Douie has joined from Ferox Capital Management

Yes, he has. Tom Douie has joined from Ferox Capital Management, but whom has he joined? Has he joined the wailers in the pit, the ones who live in an everlasting night? Has he joined the dark angels, the demonic ones, the evil servants of Jack Pickles? Has Tom made friends with the desolate traders - those mad soulless monsters - in the shadows of his heart? Has Tom looked into the eyes of a dragon and despaired? Maybe he has fallen to depths deeper than depths we could possibly know about. Is he out of sight now? Is he lost to the world? O Jesus H. Christ, please do not tell me that Tom Douie has travelled to the market of the damned! Do not tell me that!

No! Tom Douie has joined the masters of light! The mystic worshippers of money! He has joined the burning ones in the desert! What a relief! O Big Herb, O Ganesh, O ghosts of the dead financiers, please show Tom the wild love that he has always dreamed of. He needs it. He wants it. He must have it! O lords of the holy cash that burns forever, take Tom into your hearts. Let him drown in your sandy souls. Let him swirl in the astral sky with his eyes shining. Tom Douie has joined you!

Congratulations, Tom.