WTI Leads Stocks By the Nose Lower

This is a very simple thing to understand — even a moron can do it.

Markets are subservient to WTI. Presently, WTI is going lower, now down by 2%. This has caused slight weakness in the junk bond markets and of course stocks. Conversely, gold is firming. One cannot take a solid gold bar punch to the face and say it didn’t hurt.

Everything is too small for it to count. This is like taking the opinions of children, or millennials, seriously. The markets are flat. Basing an opinion off a flat bland nothing is more than stupid; bog standard it is cravenous!

As my trading account does nothing, my Quant is +35bps. How and why is it outperforming? Because it’s programmed to do so. Join Exodus you rotten louses and I will teach you.

For the first time in my son’s entire life — he took an interest in the stock market — texting me about some new free game that EA launched, dubbed Apex Legends. He said it was becoming more popular than Fortnite. He said, the stock might want to ‘barrel’ higher, even.

According to nerds, Apex is now at the top of Twitch viewing channels. For those unfamiliar, this is where nerds pay to see other nerds play video games and donate money to them to boot. Some of these nerds make millions of dollars via Twitch — an Amazon company.

Since its announcement and release on February 4, Apex Legends has consistently been on top of the Twitch viewing chart, drawing in numbers that have been way higher than Fortnite’s over that same time span.

Despite having over 600,000 less total hours streamed than Fortnite in the past seven days, Apex Legends incredibly has had almost 11 million more total hours watched.

Apex had an average viewership of 183,089 over that time, nearly 70,000 more than the 115,947 average viewer count of Fortnite.

As of three days ago, Apex had over 10 million downloads for the free game. This is significant because it smashed Fortnite’s record to pieces, accomplishing the feat in just 3 days — where it took the very now unpopular Fortnite two whole weeks to achieve.

Apex Legends, a game from Respawn Entertainment, is a free-to-play game, similar to Fortnite, the popular game that has rocked the traditional gaming industry this quarter.

Apex Legends’ quick traction shows some traditional players are beginning to catch up to the free-to-play, battle royale genre of gaming popularized by Fortnite.

A note from KeyBanc Capital Markets published Friday said it took Fortnite two weeks to gain 10 million players, though it said, “It’s unfair to compare the two, because the market for battle royale was clearly very different 12-18 months ago, but regardless,10M players is quite an accomplishment.”

Shares of EA are higher by 3.1% in the pre-market.

Important to note, I’m still without any water. We rented a hotel room last night just to shower warmly and were summarily rejected upon entering said shower — as the hotel water was initially cold. Upon receiving our most venomous complaints, the Hilton branded hotel fixed the issue and we all bathed warmly and with some fleeting dignity. I am here now, at home, eagerly awaiting a plumber to relieve me of my thirst and reinstate flowing water throughout the house.

Futures are sharply higher, +95, and gold is down. Not only is gold down, but so is oil.

It’s important to highlight what gold is doing now, for several reasons. The first and most important — we are tracing the top end of a 6 year resistance barrier.

The other is the demand coming out of foreign Central Banks for gold — record levels, dating back to 1967.

Governments added 651.5 tonnes (metric) of gold to their foreign exchange reserves in 2018, a 74 percent increase from the previous yea

This is a narrative I will be watching closely throughout 2019. In the meantime, stocks should break higher again this morning — but keep a close eye on oil. If oil starts downhill, the rally might wilt and wither away.

Last night I was entreated to a most unusual event. During my life, I’ve been plagued, harangued even, with the specter of gloomy forecasts. I once fell from a tree and broke nothing but all of my bones. This cloud has followed me for my entire life — an affliction that is almost offset by the winship enjoyed in the market. I say “almost” — because the emotional toil and tumult endured during these episodes have shaven decades off my life expectancy. My private actuary is now forecasting my graveyard arrival in exactly 3 years hence. In order to best describe what happened last night, I will attempt to re-create the dialogue.

Late at night at House Fly, the dominus of the estate was in his living room, partaking in a little entertainment via the television — creating variations of the world famous cocked-tail — The Manhattan. Much to his chagrin, an in-law who was staying at the manor alerted him of a most grave and ghastly circumstance afflicting the building.

His mother in law — Victoria, spelled out downstairs, thru the palm trees and the crystal chandeliers, through the Persian rugs and deep library of leather-bound books, “Sir Fly — there isn’t any hot water. I’ve just showered in bone shattering water. What sort of house is this?”

Alerted by this emergency announcement at such an odd hour of the night, Sir Fly put down his Creme de Cacao version of the world famous cocked-tail, The Manhattan, and raced downstairs, into the cellar, where his thousand bottle wine collection resides — alongside his make-shift gym, and entertainment center — fixed with games for the plebs — such as darts and foolsball machines.

Upon entering the water heater room — he stepped into a soggy part of the rug and heard a thunderous, yet calming, flow of water emanating from the room. He opened the door: “HOLY FUCKING SHIT — COCK-SUCKING FAGGOTS!”

He yelled up and his voice bellowed throughout the darkened house: “Honey — the entire basement is under siege. It appears the black cloud found me again and the water heater has busted loose and out again.”

Jackie replied, “What did you say? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Fly, now recoiled in shock and a bit of horror, decided to reclaim his cocked-tail — then yelled out: “get me some damned towels — AT ONCE. Need to protect the foolsball table stat — else the idiots won’t have anything to do when they visit us next.”

Jackie, “What?” The lady of the manor was now annoyed by the flippant sounds coming from downstairs.

“Listen to me, damn it, and listen to me good. The house is done for. Grab the kids and head on over to the summer home in Newport. I’ll hold off this deluge as long as I can — but I promise you nothing but my sincerest efforts.”

Jackie, now curious about the raucous behavior of the dominus — raced downstairs to bear witness to Le Fly sitting on a comfortable chair — overseeing the water heater flow wonderfully and energetically throughout the basement.

“What the hell are you doing?”, said Jackie.

“Having a night-cap, enjoying this variation of the Manhattan and the view. It’s quite wonderful.”

“But why aren’t you turning off the water and saving the house?”

“We’ve been sacked — Jackie. A man should know when he’s conquered. It’s clear to me that the black cloud needs its pound of flesh out of me. I figured it’d be nice to see this play out and flood the whole damned house away.”

“Cut it out — Fly. Damn it. Where is the cut off valve?”

Fly got up, almost heroically, as if called upon to save the earth, “I’ll see to it.”

Quickly, Fly raced to the cut off valve, placed the cocked-tail down again, and completely shut the water main off. In an instant, the water stopped flowing — leaving a deadening and most awkward echo of silence in the cellar, amidst wet bottles of aged Bordeaux and soggy boxes of toilet paper.

“What the hell, Fly!”

“Well, now we might need to sop this up and prevent the rugs from getting damaged, eh?”

“You think, Fly. YOU THINK!”

“Pfffffff.”

“How wonderful”, exclaimed Fly. “Now we won’t have any water for several days. Should I grab a bucket and ask the neighbors for some water”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Didn’t you and Dave just fix this damned thing during the summer?”

“Yeah — we fixed it all right. We fixed it to explode in the middle of the winter — leaving a house of 7 without hot or cold water.”

“Let’s just clean this mess up and call someone in the morning to fix it.”

Fly gallantly got up again, placed his cocked-tail down, and went upstairs — grabbed 10 towels, a large red bucket, and then scurried back down into the crevices of the basement to sop up the iced cold water off the basement floor — for the duration of the night. His only solace was knowing, such an affliction, such a hardship — could only lead to a grande and eloquent upsurge in his share prices.

“Hey Jackie.”

“Yes, Fly?”

Kneeling down in a grey puddle of frosty water in a dimly lit boiler room of the manor — Fly looked up at Jackie and said sincerely with an expressionless candor “well, at least my fucking stocks are going to barrel higher soon, eh?”

“Why do you always say ‘barrel’? Your stocks aren’t barreling anywhere. Just clean up this mess.”

“Whatever. Salty AF. You’ll see.”

I wanted to annoy some of you with a blog about gold — insects invading Wall Street with tales of doom and the dollar going to zero. This time is different, after all. Have you taken a view of wage growth recently and real inflation for the wealthy?

Let’s be honest with one another, if only for a brief moment in time. How important is the middle and lower classes? Sure, they’re people and they have feelings too, dreams, and they can be kind, overly kind sometimes — compensation for their own lives being cruel and daunting. More or less, the middle and lower classes do not mean much to the economy anymore — lest you’re investing in 99 cent stores of Five Below.

This from the Seattle Times this morning.

Those 400 Americans own more of the country’s riches than the 150 million adults in the bottom 60 percent of the wealth distribution, who saw their share of the nation’s wealth fall from 5.7 percent in 1987 to 2.1 percent in 2014, according to the World Inequality Database maintained by Zucman and others.

Overall, Zucman finds that “U.S. wealth concentration seems to have returned to levels last seen during the Roaring Twenties.” That shift is eroding security from families in the lower and middle classes, who rely on their small stores of wealth to finance their retirement and to smooth over economic shocks like the loss of a job. And it’s consolidating power in the hands of the nation’s billionaires, who are increasingly using their riches to purchase political influence.

What of the zebra — the poor zebra — kicking and braying — staining the earth with their cheap blood?

As fate would have it, being that we’re creatures of habit — the last time wealth has been so unevenly distributed was in the roaring 20s, precisely 100 years ago. You can count on America repeating the follies of the 20s, as we enter an era of unchecked decadence and a ghastly exhibition of debauch hedonism. Everything you’ve read about, in the papers and the books, will enliven before your eyes. Markets will climb to new heights — and everyone will drink champagne and enjoy themselves, comfortably ensconced in the safety they created — buttressed by their money and their tightly knit world. Then it will end in a fantastic crash, dust bowls swooning over the country, a blight against humanity — and then everyone will starve.

The malnourished poor will protest and bray — but the police will club them back into their housing tenements and the markets will strip away all of the excess income and security enjoyed by the Nouveau riche — who would rather jump off the spires of buildings than go back to the housing tenements — and they will. This process will repeat itself for all-time, different characters, and different demographics — but the story is the same — the evergreen struggle between greed and fear, miserably displayed for all to see on Wall Street and on Main Street, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

All of my gold stocks are doing great. Markets don’t want to go down and I decided to press my rights here — buying both MDB and QLYS — for the hundy roll.

The hundy roll is the non-stop momentum of a stock about to break the majestic plane of $100. Once it does, it almost assuredly will shoot for $106.

My gambling play is MARA — purchased here, in the 50 cent range, for MOAR — based on a savage move higher in crypto and also blockchain plays.

I told you — markets don’t go down on Friday’s anymore. This is what happens when you get that exuberance. You get HOOKED.

Have a good weekend, fagTARDS. I wish you well. Be sure to join the league of gentlemen in Exodus and quit taking free trials you fucking scoundrels.

NOTE: Gold broke 1,318. The biggest trade since Bitcoin exploded is upon you. Are you involved?

I’m not falling for the shorts now. The market has broken lower — but the day isn’t done yet.

Nevertheless, there are things to buy, namely gold and pot.

PYX is breaking out. Analysts don’t like it — I do. Break up value is higher.

With gold on the verge of sperging out — I bought HMY, SBGL, and SAND. Add NUGT into the mix, I have 30% of my portfolio long gold miners.

I’ve probably lost 10% over the past 3 months in these FUCKING 3x ETFs. They are a disease, a malefactor upon the financial community.

My loss was 8% on a 5% position. In the big scheme of things, not a big deal. But these fucking losses add up. The past few days have been one small nick after the next — and I’m sick and God damned tired of this drawdown.

Now the right trade to do, given the present condition, is to SHORT STOCKS.

But do I have the fortitude, the testicular balls, to do it?

Stay tuned.

I woke up in a mood, not so dissimilar to how Dracula might’ve felt centuries ago, famished and zany like a zoo animal for fresh blood. I’m not interested in nourishing myself on blood — per se, only the brokerage accounts of my enemies.

Right now a good deal of you are reading this, smugly, intently, with malicious purpose — trying to take my coin. But you forgot one important, salient, thing: Markets no longer barrel lower on Fridays.

Oil is up — LOOK AT IT.

Gold is up — LOOK AT IT.

On the matter of gold, I’ll be getting my Peter Schiff on today — vaingloriously captivating an audience of plebs with mountainous gains in gold. This is going to be a monster trade. You’ll hear me talking about it more in the coming days and week — months to come.

Have you ever felt really bad about something, only to feel inexorably worse off after someone took the opportune to shit on your parade? I am such a shitter. I welcome myself to your indecorous parade.

HAPPY FRIDAY.

The American Dynasty will persist, uninterrupted, for the next thousand years. Our armies will control your countries and relegate your men and women and children to slavery, inside Chinese electronic foundries. Dark times are always just around the bend and the ease of decadence is often far out of reach for anyone punching a Chinese made clock. There are ways, methods even, to accumulate wealth, most of which runs counter to the prevailing culture of wanton consumerism and depravity. If you’re too stoned to understand your balance sheet, you’re also too dumb to accumulate any meaningful amount of money.

As time goes on, the more you’ll come to realize the winners have already been chosen, and only a select few, mostly designated at your local Ivy League school, will determine the fate of your children — whether or not to engage evil enemies overseas through military conflagration.

We have no cause for concern today, lads. The only thing to fear is fear itself. If markets rally into the bell, expect shorts to be discarded like cheap trash during tomorrow’s opening tick. If, by chance, we close at the lows — there is a strong chance we will gap lower.

With my money, formerly a professional investor and manager of other people’s money, I am astutely long NUGT, a variety of this or that — and GUSH — a seemingly ill fated invested — taken during a bad tape, in an obnoxious care-free “nothing can go wrong” demeanor.

By 3:45pm, we’ll know for sure what tomorrow will bring. Stay tuned.