Jan

28

 Upon waking up, the verse from Trial by Jury:

"one cannot eat breakfast all day/ nor is it the act of a sinner/ when breakfast is taken away/ to turn his attention to dinner. And it's not in the range of belief/ to look upon him as a glutton who, when he is tired of beef determines to tackle the mutton"

One can't decide or figure out whether this post was prompted by Mr. Grain's good fortune in marriage, or a Niederhoffer alert memorializing my inordinate tendency to be a contrarian sent to me by Miss Perfect. 

Yes, I am a contrarian above 1500 S&P with all that implies about the euro and fixed income. It seems to me like the flexionists and other sinners determine to tackle the mutton after many rounds of breakfast. 

Richard Owen writes: 

It's always interesting to see how the anointed enjoy their lunch and dinners. On a recent visit to Hammersmith, one enjoyed a visit to the beautiful Church cafe — with discounted coffee — and spent an ultra-civilised half hour with button down marmish nannies and housewives. This was prior to an appointment with rare books at St Paul's Girls School, wherein one is greeted by a forest's worth of antiqued Edwardian wood paneling and transported back into a Mary Poppins netherworld. Walking back down the high street, there are plentiful and lavishly staffed cult cafes, ethical butchers, and second hand bookshops to visit.

It seems that with the squeezing out of standardised efficiencies; the disassembling of workforce collective power; the ravaging of the idyll to a barren landscape of unemployed, disenfranchised waitresses, butchers and bookshop owners, that the equity have collected their bounteous share thereof and reconstructed what they disassembled on their doorsteps. Drink down your Starbucks, else who will buy the cottage industrialist's cream teas?

Victor Niederhoffer replies: 

One would inquire of Mr Owen whether any of the button downed nannies and housewives seemed to be of the kind that would administer spankings to the Royal Stock Exchange Members who frequented such clubs in the old days when the President was greeted on the floor with a standing ovation when he was outed for patronizing one.


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