One of the downsides to blogging on the internets is the constant flow of new people eyeballing my site. These people come here, with a typical American give me attitude, always wanting—in need of assistance. They ask me all sorts of fucked up questions, ranging from the size of my book of business to the methodology behind picking stocks. Well, every so often, a certain post is required, by my person (with my own hand), to set the proletariat straight. I will have you know, you are reading such a post right now.
To put it plainly, I will offer you several analogies, in order to make pictures inside your small brains so that you can understand me better.
If you were fortunate enough to meet with Ty Cobb or Babe Ruth, or any of the great baseball players, being an aspiring ball player yourself, what type of questions would you ask him? Would you ask the Babe: “how do you swing a bat?” Or would you ask Mr. Cobb, “if a pitcher tells you to fuck a fire hydrant, then hits you in the helmet with a fastball, what should you do?”
Of course not.
Asking great men elementary questions is a grave insult, punishable by death in select countries around the world. Do not ask Einstein “how do you use arrays when multiplying numbers?”
I spit on your face. I stomp on your nose.
Quit asking me questions, for I am not obligated, nor inclined to help you. The popularity of my blog is NOT by design, but by the will of space and time and all celestial beings. I never asked to be a Space Alien Magician, able to bank coin in Nagasaki, circa 1945; I just do it. It is my burden; it is my crucible. It’s as natural to me as metal attracting to magnets or ridiculous losses plaguing the NY sports scene. What you witness here, day in and day out, is nothing short of greatness, on the level of Ty Cobb or Babe Ruth, only in money management realm—my domain. If I was on the teevee, managing a gagillion dollars for misfits in bow ties, you’d revere my writings as if they were gospel. Instead, because of the venue, many of you simply chalk the science conducted here on iBC as mere “child play,” not so much different than the low-end pyramids at Giza.
Watch it happen, over and over again and ask yourself: is he lucky?
At this stage, I don’t even need to research stocks. I can simply look at a ticker for 10 minutes, watch it trade, and tell you the direction with “magic ball” accuracy. If you want a leg up in this business, put in the fucking work and invest in your trade. My greatest investment, life to date, was creating The PPT. More recently, launching the trading group 12631 (accessible to PPT subs only) is shaping up to be my second best venture on iBC to date, thanks to the prescient help of my partners: Chess and RC.
So, in summary, if you want advice, go fuck a dog and kick an old man down a sewer drain. That will make you feel a lot better about yourself. But, if you want to learn, invest in yourself and quit being a leech.
[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5vqR_fO7GEs 616 500]
[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BUTkMksPkm0 616 500]
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