pink gin fizz and that…
Tonight, I finished Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps with my wife.
(And as I write this, I realize the importance of punctuation—just so we’re clear, Wall Street isn’t sleeping with my wife.)
Anyway… I’m writing this while drinking a pink gin fizz, with Oisín O’Malley playing in the background. It’s 11 PM on a Saturday night, and I don’t typically follow watch reviewers. But the guy has some interesting takes on politics and masculinity, which caught my attention. Now, I consider myself more assertive than most, but I’m no idiot. I’m not out here looking to catch a punch and leave my kids fatherless, even if the mortgage is paid off. Would that be a win for them? Not really. I mention this because Oisín is the kind of ‘alpha’ we should be paying more attention to in the West. Less Andrew Tate, more Oisín. For starters, the man has massive wrists—something I find oddly impressive. More importantly, though, he’s got principles. Even when he’s acting like a diva in online squabbles, there’s still something gentlemanly about him. I like that. He’s what the younger conservatives would call “based,” though they probably wouldn’t use that word for him. That’s just how I see it.
So, why am I writing this?
Well, as I said, I just wrapped up watching one of my favourite films, and it got me thinking about some money thoughts I’ve had for a while—thoughts that might be a bit controversial but worth sharing.
Before we dive into that, though, I owe a quick apology. Actually, two. Both to girls named K, from my late teens and early twenties. I’m 33 now, and while some might say I’m still young, I feel every one of those years. I’ll apologize to them in person, but for now, one of them—well, I made a low comment that I thought she deserved at the time. She didn’t. The other Kelsey? I dismissed her awkwardly to a mutual friend, and I’m pretty sure she heard about it. Her face didn’t change much towards me afterward, she either really liked me – or really didn’t. But that was a decade ago. Who’s to say it still matters?
Now, back to money—anyone else worried that the rich might actually get eaten?
I’m not rich, but I’m not poor either, like most of you reading this. And yet, I’ve somehow stumbled into a life that’s a bit of a dream. The house, the cars—no 40 acres and a mule, but there’s a piano and a guitar (Kendrick reference) in the building I’m closing on for my wife’s business. It’s surreal that I can do this. Buy a property others can’t and watch it double my money just because of how it’s set up. Locals can’t have this, because I earn based on pay in London and the name of my previous employer. And yes, the value I bring today… but still – Crazy stuff. I just can’t shake the feeling that someday, people might come for us. And honestly? Maybe we deserve it.
From my tone, you can tell that this doesn’t mean I’m stopping…It’s smart, and it works.
If you can’t buy, can’t leverage what you’ve got for low-interest loans, you have to trade your time for money, and we all know how slow that is. You’ve heard the concept : “When I needed credit, I couldn’t get it. Now I’ve got plenty, and they throw it at me.” Well, that’s the reality. I’ve got an impressive credit score in two countries now—what a flex. My politics have shifted along the way. I used to think that I was the problem, but once I had a bit of money, I just started aiming my frustration two tax brackets higher. Those people over there are the problem now, right? Tax them.
The truth is, the system’s broken. A poor kid from where I’m from shouldn’t be able to pull this stuff off (or maybe he should?) Who can say? What I do know is that I have finessed my way through a lot of this life, so I’m not surprised that I’m here.
Now money? It doesn’t care. Capitalism says, “Cash is king.” Or as one film put it, “There’s no point in living if you can’t feel alive.”
So, here I am—living the life, as they say. But the system’s rigged, and we all know it. Still, we play the game. Why? Because it works, for now at least. The question is: If cash is king, how long can the crown stay on its head before the kingdom collapses? Maybe that’s a thought for another night?
For now, I’ll sip my gin, close the door on Wall Street, and think about what tomorrow brings.