Roundtable Discussion; The Future of Mineral Sands. Watch the video here.
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It will be the AIM version of Lefevre's Reminiscences of a Stock Operator :-D Here's an exerpt about the way that market makers worked in 1923:
"I slapped my tickets on the counter in front of the clerk and yelled, "Close Sugar!" before Dave had finished calling the price. So, of course, the house had to close my Sugar at the last quotation. What Dave called turned out to be 103 again. According to my dope Sugar should have broken 103 by now. The engine wasn't hitting right. I had the feeling that there was a trap in the neighborhood. At all events, the telegraph instrument was now going like mad and I noticed that Tom Burnham, the clerk, had left my tickets unmarked where I laid them, and was listening to the clicking as if he were waiting for something. So I yelled at him: "Hey, Tom, what in hell are you waiting for? Mark the price on these tickets 103! Get a gait on!
...
So Tom looked sulky, but came over and marked my tickets "Closed at 103" and shoved the seven of themover toward me. He sure had a sour face. Say, the distance from Tom's place to the cashier's cage "wasn't over eight feet. But I hadn't got to the cashier to get my money when Dave Wyman by the ticker yelled excitedly: "Gosh! Sugar, 108!" But it was too late; so I just laughed and called over to Tom, "It didn't work that time, did it, old boy?"
Of course, it was a put-up job. Henry Williams and I together were short six thousand shares of Sugar. That bucket shop had my margin and Henry's, and there may have been a lot of other Sugar shorts in the office; possibly eight or ten thousand shares in all. Suppose they had $20,000 in Sugar margins. That was enough to pay the shop tothimblerig the market on the New York Stock Exchange and wipe us out. In the old days whenever a bucket shop found itself loaded with too many bulls on a certain stock it was a common practice to get some broker to wash down the price of that particular stock far enough to wipe out all the customers that were long of it. This seldom cost the bucket shop more than a couple of points on a few hundred shares, and they made thousands of dollars."
Evidently. I must admit I have toyed with the idea putting together the collected wisdom of numpty5. There are reasons not to of course. Firstly, who the hell do I think I am? Sounds a bit arrogant to think more than a dozen people might be interested. Secondly there isn't really enough material yet and whilst I admit some of it is good, some of it isn't.
I did consider an e-book/pamphlet at a peppercorn price with the few pence that might raise going to a cancer charity (that being the de-facto cause of this BB) for no other reason that people on here may persuade their friends to read it and subsequently take an interest in VRFB's in general and this great Company in particular.
I just haven't got that drunk yet.
Thanks for your kind words though.
Do you plan on creating a collection of short stories Numpty? I genuinely think there would be an audience for them.
P.S. I trust Aunt Beatrice had the wisdom to leave the inheritance to Mr Mortimer in AIM shares - exempt from inheritance tax.
Hello there. Remember me? Senior Vice president of Mortimer Mortimer Mortimer Churchill and Mortimer? Well, I used to be. Uncle Mortimer demoted me to assistant to the deputy junior aide for stationary logistics. So I don't do the investment malarkey any more. Now I'm something to do with pencils and paperclip removers or something. It's a frightful bore and doesn't attract half as much totty I'm afraid.
I should have listened to Jocasta after all. You remember her of course. Cracking nuts. Well she tried to tell me about that Vanadium Company Bushveld something or other. If I had paid as much attention to what she said as I did to trying to get into her bush then it might not have all gone as ghastly wrong as it did. Did I mention her cracking nuts? I expect I did. Well, you've all seen her year book picture from Rodean I'm sure.
Funny thing is I can remember everything she said now. Steel strengthening. Buildings not falling down in earthquakes and killing the natives. Then there was all that battery stuff. Your B9 powering Cairo and all that. I even looked it up later and would you believe it they actually do have electricity in the colonies. Apart from Madagascar I believe. I expect somebody will do something about that before long as well.
Yes, I really should have listened to Jocasa (cracking nuts) and I was going to, I really was. However, you know what it's like being senior vice president of a big financial outfit. The work could take up an entire afternoon a week if you let it. All for a paltry few million a year at that.
So, I was going to take her advice but then I had a great stroke of luck. Or so I thought at the time. Of course you remember Rupert? Well I was waiting for him in a city bar, into my second bottle of Bolly when I met this awfully nice chap who also happened to be from Africa which is where that Bushveld outfit were from. Now it so happened that in his part of Africa - Nigeria I seem to remember - they had just discovered a powdered water mine. I couldn't see the benefit myself but apparently there are places so short of the stuff they have to drink their Scotch neat. Can you imagine that sort of hardship?
Then the icing on the cake, the Company with the mining rights was owned by this chaps cousin Prince something or other. All they needed was a few hundred million to buy some buckets and shovels and everyone would be rolling in lolly.
I suppose I should have smelt a rat when he told me his cousin was usually to trying to get that sort of money out of Nigeria. He seemed an honest sort of chap though.
So there we are. It's all biros and rubbers now. Fortunately Aunt Beatrice had the good grace to pop her clogs and leave me a few million and a country pile so I shouldn't complain. I dare say there is the odd person worse off than me.