China Trade War Derailment Dip Bought; Business as Usual

I was fortunate to own CRWD today, gapping higher as the deep state extends its tentacles into the executive branch. I sold it out and swapped it for another stock. Not a big deal.

It looked like markets wanted lower, but instead revealed an insatiable appetite for more expensive prices. I cannot lie — I hate this market down to its guts and truly hope for a derailment of biblical proportions. But that’s just me being bitter, thinking about what should’ve been. Our ideas are fleeting and unimportant if they’re not in sync with the masses. I do not pretend to know more about the market than the market itself, which is why I am merely a conduit to it. Betting against prevailing trends is a useless endeavor. Some get tricked into thinking they’re special and they’ve read about stories of great men making mountainous fortunes by betting against the herd. But this is a psyop, designed to trick you into losing your small fortunes. These men you’ve read about do not exist, mere phantoms and night time stories made up by people with indecorous plans.

Stay with the sheep and BAAAAAAAAA all the way to the bank. Reserve your opinions for after the market closes and be sure to stay true to price action.

That is all for now.

Enough is enough already with this shit. I’d be happy with resolution, such as “we shall never trade with China again” instead of this horseshit. We are supposed to endure this for the duration of the Trump presidency? I’d prefer to have an arch socialist in who kills people for fun instead of this. I’d rather a Faux Indian take the realm into war in Moscow, killing tens of millions, than this. I’d prefer Bernard Sanders dying of a heart attack his first day in office than have to endure another second of this trade war shit.

Fuck your politics. I don’t care about anything at all. But this trickery needs to end now.

Last night I was rejoicing atop of the corpsed bodies of my enemies, wish casting their souls to doom and hell, whilst I enjoyed the bounty of my genius. After the market closed TWOU crushed earnings. The stock had gone up 17% and I was king, readying for my tailor to take new measurements on my hard chiseled body.

SHORTS GETTING THEIR DICKS LOPPED OFF IN $TWOU

— The_Real_Fly (@The_Real_Fly) November 12, 2019

This morning something grave and hideous took place, a circumstance I’ve bore witness to a dozen or so times in the past and will see it again. The stock opened up candidly weak and got weaker by the second. I could only look in horror as monsters circumvented the city gates in an energized effort to slew me. As I write to you now, the position is down by 5% — making me a distinct loser in this whole dramedy. I had plans to celebrate over mountains of chicken parm, and tall sterile glasses of coconut flavored La Croix. Instead I will submit this blog in shame and watch as my fortunes decrease, my repute weakens, and my purse withers away.

I ran into a dry spell, losing in 5 straight trades. Losses ranged from -0.7% to -8.5%. I felt good about those stocks when I had bought them; but truthfully felt no allegiance or sense of conviction with them, so they are out. I suppose one could argue that I could just hold them and wait for better prints. But it’s not my style, and with zero commissions — I have little to no motivation to abstain from churning myself.

Your style might be to sit and hold. I am of the fluid type, always hunting for fresh kills. When my prey grows stale, I often cut losses quickly and move on. At times, this brand of trading can become meddlesome, especially for those attempting to follow me. Losses pile up in stacks, like dead bodies outside the city gates. But the enemy can never enter my castle, an impenetrable fortress armed with trebuchets and plague infected arrows.

Do not fear for the future of Le Fly, for it is already etched in stone. Things will work out wonderfully, and more. I turned over my account today and bought another 7 stocks in an ordinary gambit for me, switching things up. Divorce is good when you have a plan. If you don’t, next thing you know you’re bogged the fuck out for -50%.

Most Wall Streeters despise the Fed, unless of course you’re at the top of the Wall Street food chain. Then you love them. The idea of what the Fed does it synonymous with cheating, and that is reviled by most moral men. The President’s non-stop shitting on the Fed is now discarded as Trump being Trump. But if you look at what he’s saying, essentially, it makes sense.

“And if we had a Federal Reserve that worked with us, you could have added another 25% to each of those numbers, I guarantee you that,” Trump said.

“But we all make mistakes, don’t we?” the president added. “Not too often. We do make them on occasion.”

It wasn’t immediately clear which “mistake” Trump was referencing: His choice to nominate Fed Chair Jerome Powell to lead the central bank or Powell’s preferred course of monetary policy.

“We are actively competing with nations who openly cut interest rates so that now many are actually getting paid when they pay off their loan, known as negative interest,” he said. “Who ever heard of such a thing?”

“Give me some of that,” he said. “Give me some of that money. I want some of that money.”

The entirety of Europe is in a ZIRP world, negative even. Governments borrow money and make money off those loans, incredulously. What Trump is positing to the American people, who are deaf and blind, is the idea that we should be offered terms similar to Spain. Is that woefully absurd?

In the past, a Presidential speech shitting on the Fed would draw the ire of the media and stocks would plunge. That institution is tethered to the fate of markets. Without it, dare I say, markets would fucking plunge into the depth of hell. The reason for this is simple: we should’ve died in 2009 and have been artificially propped up since. If you do not believe me, simply look at the banks and their returns since 2009 — all down.

Now a cynic might argue that what Trump is really trying to do is destroy the credibility of the Fed, which in turn would hurt stocks and ultimately his Presidency and the country. A true Russian agent. Trumpsters would have you believe he’s doing this selflessly out of love of country. Option #3, one I ascribe to, is Trump shit-posting in real time — trying to find a foil or a party to blame for anything that might go wrong during his administration.

These comments are hilarious and probably won’t do much to effect policy change. But it should be noted that it is being noted, and the Fed’s hegemony on the world banking system, for the first time ever, is being called into question.

By meander, I of course mean they’re going higher without proper leadership. Case in point, today’s 63% positive breadth is led by the nightly tankers and hospitals. Semis are doing fine too — but that didn’t fit into my narrative. On a +40 Nasdaq day, I’d expect better breadth than 63%. Nevertheless, here we are and here I am booking losses.

(TLRY -8.5%)
(SOXS -6.8%)

See pal that’s who I am.

I’ll keep trading away as if nothing happened. Yesterday I refrained from any new buys — due to uncertainty. That apprehensions manifested itself today with two solid cow punches to the gut. Now I have the task of finding some pretty big winners in a market that isn’t trending — but instead meandering higher.

LUCKY ME.

Bonds are somewhat weak again and the gold bug has been all but squashed. I still have two gold positions for a “just in case” scenario, but my confidence level on those trades is very low. Gold has proven itself to be unlucky and the formidability of the Fed and their designs supreme. Is it fair or right? Maybe not. But history is written by the victors for the victors.

Off to find a few big winners.

This is for your TSLAQ fags, losers out there still selling short America’s finest automobile maker.

TSLA is a dunkshot for $375. Prove me wrong.

There is nothing you can do to stop it.

I got some unexpected reactions to my previous post, where I casually stated I’d go without booze for a while. I hadn’t given it much thought and I certainly do not have a substance issue. I am keenly aware that when someone says that eyes immediately roll in the back of the readers head, solidifying the suspicion that the abstainer is, in fact, a fucking alcoholic.

The truth is far more simple and sincere. For the past year I’ve been a Chef at House Fly, eating well — but rich, very rich and decadent foods. My work has kept me from attending the gym at the level I enjoyed in previous years. My health is good, but I don’t feel great. Getting older, with my children older and more keenly aware of my actions, I felt this would be a positive thing to demonstrate, a discipline for the sake of doing it. There isn’t any downside to it. After all, alcohol is a poison and although it offers comfort and laughter, it is a malevolent friend, one that shortens lifespans and manifests itself incredulously — accentuating the worst in people. I simply want to do without it — mainly because I don’t. I hope that makes sense to you.

I will abstain from booze until the summer. I will not cheat or bend, because I’m stubborn and strong willed.

On the issue of stocks — a poor day for my trading account. I sold one stock for a 5% loss and another for a 1.5% gain. More or less, I am in a holding pattern. No rush — just holding and waiting.

I saw three movies this weekend. Here are my reviews.

Hobbs n Shaw — absolute shit — makes Fast and Furious look like a documentary. What else can I say, other than absolute shit. Review 3.9 out of 10.

The King — Presently playing on Netflix is a little awkward, mainly because this is a famous Shakespearean play — one that was produced famously by Orson Welles in Chimes at Midnight. This was a solid film. My only reservation is the young actors looked too diminutive to be imposing. The score was fantastic and I find myself listening to it at least an hour of every day since I’ve watched it. Review 7.6

Doctor Sleep: Holy shit I did not expect this to be very good. Boy was I surprised. There is a Kubrick atmosphere in this horror continuation. Yes, this is The Shining part 2, done fantastically. I loved almost everything about it. Maybe the ending could’ve been executed a little better — but it was a highly entertaining thriller and must see for any Shining fans. Review 9.4

Now I’m off for the Benz dealership to fix my Benz, which is giving me issues again. What will it be — another 10k fix? Who knows? I’m so emotionally invested at this point — the car is, more or less, one bad average down after the next. I’ve applied the Martingale Stratagem to the automobile, my good Sir. I shall win the day, even if it costs me everything.

Not much going on with stocks. I’ll be checking in later.

I’m voluntarily abstaining from all forms of alcohol for an undetermined amount of time, even beer and the occasional glass of wine. I’d consider myself to be a social drinker, typically guzzling down martinis at dinner occasions and/or the weekend beer. But all of that has come to an end, at least temporarily.

What is the reason for such austerity?

It’s just a feeling, something I wanted to do. Several years back I switched over to tea from coffee for a period of 12 mos because I felt coffee, for lack of a better term, was indecorous — the preferred beverage of homeless people worldwide.

This weekend has been marked by a visit from my Mother — who is here for 3 weeks, plus lots of dining out and of course wanton spending and deranged acts of consumerism. One doesn’t always obtain the life one imagines, but instead the one one deserves. Always remember that when lamenting your condition.

Twenty years ago I would never have imagined myself to be the world’s most prolific finance blogger, independent from the world, totally quarantined from Wall Street and a merchant of services catering to mom and pop investors. Thirty years ago, I thought I’d be a baseball player. Funny how expectations rarely meet outcomes once variables are thrown into the mix. For example, I had intended to droll on in a philosophical rant about life and keeping optimistic in the face of overwhelming fuckery — but instead find myself being summoned into the kitchen to help Mrs. Fly cook pasta, properly. This is precisely the poetic rhyme of life, encapsulated in an abrupt ending to a blog that could’ve been great — but instead ended up incomplete and somewhat disappointing.