The sound of blood moving down Wall Street like rivulets was pervasive today. Traders attempted an afternoon gambit, rallying back from down 1,000 to 250. I attempted to partake and bought a variety of stocks, only to end up selling them before 3pm for marginal losses and gains. The delta was not meaningful to me, after enjoying such a glorious session.
What transpired into the close can only be described as capitulation — traders giving up the ghost, deathly afraid of what lurks behind the next corner.
Over 8,400 people in the state of California are under observation for the Coronavirus. Everywhere I look, commerce is being shut down. The end of globalism is upon you, as borders shut and people seize up with fear. The only solution is massive central bank intervention, which might happen this weekend.
I stand before you a very victorious man. My gains capsize your small boat and sink you and your passengers to the bottom of the ocean. I bought several virus plays into the bell, not because I had to or even wanted to make money, but because I found it to be fun. A rather obnoxious excuse for the purchase of a pennied stock. But that is a social construct that is as ridiculous as the traders on Wall Street Bets and their inane options trades gone awry, blown the fuck out like the millennial faggots they are — a cheap and tawdry denizen for low IQ traders to rally together to find enough courage to lose all of their coin in unison.
“The Fly” doesn’t share that culture and only wins, as evidenced by the results found inside of the hallowed halls of Exodus.
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