I have to make this communique brief as I’m juggling five plates and have two more that need to start spinning.
I just got back in town. I just got back after three-four weeks living on the fringe of society, burning donkey shit in the desert to keep warm and shit. And if you think that means I have less visibility on the financial markets then you, then you will be quite perturbed when I tell you quite the contrary.
This is not the type of market I initiate risk in. First of all my benevolent robots, my only consul in the art of financial war, my loyal leaders, the ones who never flinch and always offer only the highest level of objectivity. Those kind robots, they saw something. Here is the note I issued, on their behalf, three weeks and three days ago:
— RAUL (@IndexModel) February 4, 2018
CORRECTION-LIKE BEHAVIOUR. There words, not mine. I am simply a vessel which they speak through, much like your God spoke to the disciples while they wrote the bible.
So there’s the robots.
Then there is something all investors can agree sucks—uncertainty. Uncertainty at the top, no less. Anyone with a brain knows that capitalism is what makes the world turn. That banks are the foundation stones of capitalism. And that the Federal Reserve is the lender of last resort—the ultimate banker—the banker of bankers, or king of kings as they said in biblical times.
I am being told to trust Jerome Powell. To love Jerome Powell. To tithe my savings at the feet of Jerome Powell.
This is what I see when I look at Jerome Powell. I see a private equity goon like Fred Wilson, the type of guy who amassed incredible financial gains before dumping his flotsam on the general population via IPO. I see a fucking attorney, ready to send me a nice letterhead asking for a gratuitous retainer. I see a consultant who is suited and booted before 10am.
I do not trust anyone wearing a suit before 2pm, as a rule of thumb.
Also he answers questions. Janet Yellen did not answer questions. She told drawn-out stories like all nice grandmas do. Grandma Yellen was kind. Grandma Yellen gave us butterscotch candies even while we were being little shits, running Tesla and Google to unspeakable valuations.
Jerome Powell goes to the House Financial Services committee and in no time he’s answering questions, look:
Wow bro, why don’t you just tell them everything about our precious QE? The greatest tool the Federal Reserve ever created, a tool developed by Benjamin ‘blunt’ Bernanke. He needs to learn to be more vague. Until he does, and he will, uncertainty.
All that being said, I have not reduced risk. That is not entirely true. I did scale part of my SANGAMO position last week. I sold 1/3 of the position from inside a frozen RV. I sold it because it took out $25 and that was the plan ever since it was trading at $3. This is not a fucking game. This is good business.
While we firmly believe in the core thesis of CRISPR, that super rich folks like Jerome Powell, with extravagant lake houses and families, that these rich people do not want to die—that they will invest their dollars in any idea that promises immortality—that these rich people control a vast percentage of the world’s investable money—and that they do not want to leave the mortal world because it is a pretty dope place for them to hang out and do cool shit—that they will funnel money to CRISPR ideas like SANGAMO. While we believe this core thesis, we are also realistic and know that all true advancement is out on the horizon, on the proverbial ‘4-years from now’ timeline, a place where scientists dream and scheme…and often fail—realistically.
AND WE ARE HERE TO CONDUCT GOOD BUSINESS. Good business in the financial markets comes down to PLAN AND EXECUTE.
It is not pretty. No one will have sex with you because you are good at taking 100,000,000 data points, parsing and analyzing them, and churning out a statistical advantage on a Microsoft Excel spreadsheet. There will be no cheering fans when you flawlessly execute.
Is that what you need? To be recognized? And for what? To what end?
In the words of Lily Allen, “I want to be rich and I want lots of money. I don’t care about clever. I don’t care about funny.”
Said money will be used to obtain land as far north as my constitution will allow. Said land will be equipped with enough solar, batteries, and robotic facilities to ensure I can sit back sipping mead while the malaise of human propagation happening in major city centers goes full pitch fork, egging each other over meaningless freedoms like assault rifles and opiates.
So like I was saying, I am not reducing risk. But I am also not assuming new risk. The morning reports, the ones prepared every morning from inside mothership, are showing me an orderly market that is behaving with my price levels, the best price levels in the game, and that we are balancing just below record highs.
These aren’t exactly bearish conditions.
Nevertheless, I am a bit bearish. I am giving sellers another 10-12 days to show up before I start mashing the buy button.
So it is written, so it shall be.