Jane Welsh: good money after bad!

Senior investment consultant with tears in her eyes, that is Jane Welsh. From Watson Wyatt she comes with a distressing story of good money after bad - O Jane, dry your eyes, it has not happened. According to those familiar with the howling wind in the desert and the emptiness of our civilization, Apollo Management has dropped plans to raise an annex fund. Investors do not have the cash nor the will. WOULD IT BE GOOD MONEY AFTER BAD? Yes! But what is bad money? Sick, evil, degenerate money, the sort of filthy banknotes Jack Pickles carries around in a clip. Money that Satan has touched. And what is the good money that often follows? The money that spews out of the mouth of Big Herb, with flames! The money that Ganesh hoovers up with his trunk.

Investors should not put the money of Big Herb and Ganesh after the diseased money of Jack and Satan. I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS. That is common sense. One money burns forever, never burns out. The other money becomes ashes. Jack and Satan crave money, but they are the destroyers of money!

I KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO DESTROY. I KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO CREATE.

O Master, you know it all!

Yes, my child. Moving on to something else, that only a few of my dear readers will understand: I am destroying! People will call me a devil. But I am also CREATING. Soon, people with a suitable consciousness will consider me a god.

O Master, you create and you destroy. It's a fucking revolution, is what it is!

Nicholas-Applegate Capital Management's …

… Global Select Fund has increased its exposure to financial stocks, according to Reuters, according to something I read Reuters, according to the words of a Reuters journalist burned into my astral mind, Reuters, Reuters …

… Christopher Herrera has seen attractive valuations, has seen the light, has let this wondrous light enter him, Reuters …

WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO UNDERSTAND?

THIS IS NOT SOMETHING YOU CAN DISMISS.

O Master, we are breaking new ground, are we not?

Fuckin' A! Fuckin' A!! Fuckin' A!!!

Philip Johnson is joining Jupiter Asset Management

Yes, yes, yes. Philip Johnson is leaving Marshall Wace, the way he left M&G, the way he left the womb, the way he left the astral plane, the way he left his body in another life, the way he left … yes, he keeps on leaving, and coming, and going. This eternal man, wise man, holy man -

O Master, is Philip an eternal man? Is he a wise man? Is he a holy man?

O my child, he is all of these things.

WE LOVE PHILIP JOHNSON.

WE LOVE HIM.

WE LOVE THIS ETERNAL MAN.

You shall become strangers to those who know you

O bankers, O traders, O children of the City, warriors of the crunch, sometimes I am not even human - do you realize this?

At the end of summer, a night in a sky of my choosing, astral wanderings, I am a storm of blood and fire! This is not about money. In my highest of highs I am beyond money. Just blood, fire. A spirit burning and smoking! My soul stinks!

Will you follow me? Are you brave enough? Can you go beyond?

Yes! Yes! Yes!

Oh, I hear you; but I do not know whether you will be able to cope with the expansions I have in mind. So will you still follow me? Everything you believe, everything you know, is bullshit. I will smash your fantasies. I will give you a new way of seeing. Your mystic eyes will float in my direction in your dreams. You will be lost in my subconscious. You will have no reality. Your thoughts will come through me. I will give you emotions. Money will not exist on this level. This will be something there are no words for.

You are breaking through. You are so close. You must let go. I let go a long time ago. I lost everything. I became empty. Just a voice hollering in the desert now. That is where my power comes from. I am as free as God. Slaves fear me. O my children, be strong!

Hansruedi Schumacher and Matthias Rickenbach

O Master, who are these characters? Master? Hansruedi was a UBS banker, wasn't he? Or have I got that wrong? What about Matthias? Who is he? Master, do these people really exist? Is this just some sick joke of yours? Hello, Master … er …

Hogarth Davies Lloyd is suing Nomura!

Eh? What? Why? What the hell is going on? Okay, everyone, calm down!

O Master, does that include me?

Right, Hogarth Davies Lloyd is a headhunting firm (in the modern sense) and it is suing Nomura because Nomura has not paid for a wild bunch of ex-Lehman bankers who were hired by the Japanese bank (in London) with the help of HDL last year. Or something like that. HDL wants its money. Basically, that's what we're talking about.

Only one question: were the Lehman Brothers bankers worth paying for?

I have been speaking to the head of human resources at Nomura, Stephen Sidebottom, and he told me, 'Michael, er - man, do you have any idea what state these Lehman freaks were in when we took them on last year? (I have a vague idea, Stephen.) A vague idea? Sod 'a vague idea', Mike! Let me tell you, their auras were an absolute disgrace! (I know all this.) No, listen, Michael. Their chakras were not whirling at all. (Not one little spin?) No. Dead chakras. And we had to get a team of shamans in - at considerable expense - to deal with this. (Shamans? What shamans? Why didn't you call me?) You're too expensive. (It seems to me, Stephen, that you don't want to spend any money at all. You have to pay for talent, you know.) We used Keith Busby and a few of his associates. (Keith is a financial psychic, not a financial shaman.) What's the difference? (Oh, for fuck's sake! I have been writing my blog for over two years now, and you still don't know the difference?!) Michael, I don't read your blog. I'm not into all this voodoo nonsense. (IT AIN'T FUCKING VOODOO NONSENSE!!! It's mystical capitalism. And if you're not into it, why do you care about your employees' auras and chakras then? Answer that one.) Mr Fowke, it's just the way things are these days. We're pragmatists. We know you can't run an investment bank in the current climate without at least paying lip service to this voodoo tomfoolery.'

Dear reader, I won't tell you what I said to Mr Sidebottom after that, but you can imagine, can't you? You know the sort of temper I have.

And Hogarth Davies Lloyd? Forget about taking Nomura to court. I want to see heads on spikes!

Is Todd Edgar going to Barclays Capital?

That's what everyone wants to know. Is Todd Edgar going to leave JPMorgan and work at BarCap on its foreign exchange trading desk? And is he taking his four mates with him? That's what everyone wants to know. BarCap is offering a package of £30 million in pay and bonuses. That's what everyone wants to know. Eh? O Master -

Forget it, my child.

I have been speaking to Todd Edgar -

That's what everyone wants to know -

And he told me: 'Mikey, everyone wants to know what I'm planning to do. But the truth is, I don't know what to do, man. Sure, the money I'm being offered is very attractive, but I'm worried about all the supernatural shenanigans at BarCap. (Why, Todd? Why are you worried?) Well, man, I ain't into all this voodoo shit. (Todd, it ain't voodoo shit. It's mystical capitalism.) No, man, it's voodoo shit. How do I know Bobby Diamond won't steal my soul? How do I know I won't wake up in the middle of the night to find the ghosts of dead financiers crowding around my bed, with terrifying expressions on their faces? (Todd, mate, what have you been smoking? The ghosts of the dead financiers have got far more important things to do than play tricks on traders in the middle of the friggin' night. These are serious guys. You've been watching too many movies. And why would Bobby steal your soul? You think you're so special, so wonderful, that the boss of an investment bank really wants your soul? Give me a break. Besides, I haven't even taught Bobby how to steal souls yet.) Bobby doesn't know how to steal souls? (No. He floats around on the astral plane, but that's about it.) Well, that's a relief, Mike.'

Jesus. Some people.

Craig Packer talks about the windows and cycles of his mind …

Craig Packer is head of Americas leveraged finance at Goldman Sachs, and I wouldn't have it any other way because I believe he is doing a great job.

BUT LET THE MAN SPEAK FOR HIMSELF!

Craig says: 'I look out through the windows of my mind - no, not my eyes, these are mystical windows in my subconscious - and I see the world in different colours. Rainbow colours, you could say. I have a blue window for when I'm depressed. I have a red window for when I'm all fired up and ready to do business: I can get very passionate. And I have a black window - oh man, let's not go there, you dig? I have a yellow window, a green one, a purple one ... but, er, all you really need to know is that I see the world in different colours.'

O Master, what about the cycles? Is Craig going to tell us about the cycles of his mind, how it all changes and shit, repeating, going back to the way it was and starting again?

YEAH, CRAIG, COME ON, MAN!

Craig says: 'I did not agree to that, Mr Fowke. When you contacted me earlier in the week, I made it quite clear that I would only speak to you about the beautiful mystic windows of my mind. Cycles? That's too personal, man.'

Well, that's a disappointment, isn't it? And I've never seen the colour black in a rainbow, but whatever.

Jim Morrison to create 7,000 jobs in 2009!

Yeah! And that's from Reuters! No shit! Dear reader, you will have to look for yourself. I was going to link to the Reuters article, but I'm a bit rushed off my feet at the moment. I've only had a quick glance at it. But you know where the Reuters website is. Do I have to do everything for you?

I have been speaking to Arthur Simmons about this fucking mental story - and it is a fucking mental story, let's be frank. Arthur knows more about it than I do. This is what he had to say: 'Michael, it's pretty amazing. Jim Morrison, the rocking and rolling shaman, dead for years, has decided to give something back to the shamanic community; and I take my hat off to the fellow. (Arthur, man, what has he got planned?) He will be taking on 7,000 trainee shamans, on the moon, and - (Eh? What do you mean, on the moon?) That's where his spirit resides now, man. You even wrote a post about it last year. Don't you remember? (No. I must have been stoned. Are you sure?) Yeah, Mike. Go back through your archives. Something to do with Guy Hands. (Guy Hands?) Yeah. Mr Hands was going to become a tax exile on the moon. Or so you claimed, anyway. (Arthur, I must have been fucking stoned, man.) You must have been. But Reuters has picked up on the story now. I think they're going on a moonlight drive with Jimmy - and Jimi as well. (Jimi as well?!) Michael, go back through your archives. (I'll take your word for it, Arthur.) I tell you, man, you make me laugh. You write this crazy shit - and it is crazy shit, let's be frank - and then you're surprised when the mainstream media follows your lead. What do you expect? (Arthur, man, I didn't write any crazy shit about Jim Morrison creating 7,000 jobs! That's Reuters, man. They are the ones with all the fucking drugs, by the sound of things. They've probably been dealing to that Andy Lynch nut. No wonder the poor lad is so confused.) Yeah, he is confused, that one. (Arthur, hang on - is this an astral moon we're talking about?) The Morrison moon? You tell me, Mike. As far as I'm concerned, this story is bullshit. (I thought you believed it?) Nah. This is between you and Reuters. I'm not getting involved.'

I like Arthur. I do. But he can be bloody infuriating at times.

Andy Lynch: "chunky losses" at Santander!

For those of you who don't know and may not even care, Andy Lynch manages the Euro Dynamic Growth Fund at Schroders. That's the sort of man he is, and I'm not going to judge him. Anyway, he reckons Santander is going to have "chunky losses" on its loan books in the next few years - mainly because the management team at this banco can't walk on water. And it gets better. Andy told some Reuters cupcake: 'It's a bit like heroin. You keep having to take more of it to get the same hit.' Fuck me! But what does it all mean?

LET THE MAN EXPLAIN HIMSELF.

Andy says to no one in particular, for he is drowning somewhere in the depths of his subconscious and he ain't never going home: 'It's a chunk a hunk of burning love, man. You think I don't know about the desert? You think I don't know about losses? I HAVE BEEN LOST! I HAVE BEEN FOUND! But I don't care. You know why? BECAUSE I AM ADDICTED! Addicted to the love that burns forever - great big chunks of the shit, streaming down a river of consciousness from the universal Godhead, through Big Herb, through Ganesh, and straight into my eyeballs where they hit me harder than any fucking drug, man! And that's what I've been trying to tell the senors, but they won't fucking listen! They cannot dig these chunks. So they will suffer the loss of chunks. Loads of them. I can see into the future. I know it's coming. THEY WILL LOSE EVERYTHING if they are not willing to rock us on the water, baby. Be my, be my baby, be my little baby. BUT THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT! What I'm trying to say, what I mean is, it was party time in Spain. It really was. But now, now, oh, let's just overhaul our portfolios. Can you dig that?'

As I said, he is talking to no one in particular. Maybe we should just leave him be.