Jordan Belfort (2008) The Wolf of Wall Street.

Jordan Belfort (2008) The Wolf of Wall Street.

As a reader it sticks in my craw that sometimes the film is better than the book (e.g. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Ben Hur and Spartacus are examples of the former) but here I think it’s a honourable draw. If you want to save several hours of your life, and don’t fancy reading over 500 pages, watch the film and save several hours of your life. Leonardo DiCaprio is great as the twenty-odd-year old Jordan Belfort beginning his meteoric rise by starting a brokerage firm in 1993, Stratton Oakmont. It ends as a morality play after eight years, as all good books do, with the narrator aged thirty-four, older and wiser. Belfort no longer having a starring part in a show he likes and frequently reference, Lifestyles of the Rich and Dysfunctional—he’s arrested by the FBI, having blown millions of dollars, lots of it up his nose.

The subtext on the front page is a lead line to his gargantuan drug addiction, throw in a bit of alcoholism and a penchant for sex with hookers at every opportunity, call it sex addiction and sometimes even having sex with his supermodel wife and their you’ve got it. Jordan Belfort’s story told in a convincing fuck-you voice.

This is what happened he’s saying. My rise and fall—and while it lasted it was a blast.

John Lanchester in How to Speak Money, A Lexicon of Money has an entry ‘bullshit versus nonsense’.   

Belfort puts words in his character’s mouth. They agree that he was the smartest man they’d ever met. Smartest-man-in-the-room syndrome. And Trump, the moron’s moron, does get a walk on part, but only as a figure of fun. A reality host with wigwam hair.   And the young broker, a child prodigy with numbers, wasn’t going to disagree. Belfort quickly figured Wall Street was 99% bullshit and 1% nonsense. A giant confidence trick.  His target wasn’t the common man, but those with money, the five-percent of Americans that were rich or superrich and liked to think they were smarter than everybody else. He realized if he could get past their secretaries and those guardians of conservatism they were reckless gamblers. The would-be broker could coach a monkey into selling them stock in new and upcoming companies. Belfort fixed the market so it was win-win for him and his cronies at Stratton Oakmont and you have the legend, he was like Robin Hood stealing from the rich and giving the spoils to him and his merry men (and women) and fuck the poor. Poor being here, someone down to their last $250 000.

There was no Warren Buffet starting Berkshire Hathaway with a $10 000 investment and through prudent investment and year-on-year profits creating a $50 million portfolio and making tens of millions hand over fist from a John Major, Conservative, government then in power. Belfort was making the same kind of money by training his cohort to shout down the phone and not to take no for an answer. Die or sell. Michael Lewis describes it in the preface to Liar’s Poker as a historical trend ‘a modern gold rush, never has so many unskilled twenty-four-year olds made so much money in so little time as we made in New York and London’.  

Belfort establishes what he terms ‘The Life’ was like very early when he spends over $500 000 of credit card on hookers ($5000 a pop) drugs and booze and marks it down as entertainment, a write-down for tax. His second in command Danny Porush and his first trainee, who has almost the same level of drug intake, with drug of choice Quaaludes and throw in suitcases of cocaine and crystal. In the opening exchanges Porush, after swallowing a live goldfish, is trying to convince his boss it would be a blast to have a party and throw dwarves and watch the little people land on their head in a big dartboard thing, probably without the dartboard.  Belfort wasn’t sure that’d be a good idea, but he wasn’t totally against it. A sticking point was liability and insurance.

Here we are December 13, 1993:

‘The next morning—or if you want to get technical about it, a few hours later I was having an awesome dream. It was the sort of dream every young man hopes and prays for, so I decided to go with it. I’m alone in bed, when Venice the hooker comes to me. She kneels down at the edge of my sumptuous king-size bed, hovering just out of reach, a perfect little vision. I can see her clearly now…the lusty mane and chestnut brown hair…the fine features of her face…those young juicy jugs, those incredible loamy loins, glistening with greed and desire.’

‘Loamy loins’ pop up a lot, usually in relation to The Duchess, his second wife. Other characters in his story such as the Depraved Chinaman, Steve Madden the shoe millionaire and Elliot Lavigne, the World Class Degenerate tend to be affixed qualifying labels. While trying to do a bit of money laundering in Switzerland, ($20 million, starting with small tranches of a few million) for example, the banker and master forger both smoke and at some point inhale and don’t exhale. Mixed metaphors and mixed stereotypes make clunky prose. Similarly, his second wife’s Aunt Patricia in London sounds like something out of Mary Poppins. And Belfort makes the generalization the working classes in Britain worship the royal family and can see no wrong in those royal charlatans in horsey- mediocrity-land. Perhaps Belfort isn’t as smart as he figures. I’ve got one word for that, deluded. Or perhaps I’m just deluded?

But the autobiography isn’t about us, the working class; it’s about him and his cronies. What it shows quite convincingly is the rich can break the law and suffer no consequence. This was before the moron’s moron got elected President for doing many of the same things Belfort done. But hey, at least one of them got prison time and I’m sorry it was the latter and not the former. Belfort writes a rip-snorting book. It’s entertaining and I enjoyed reading it. You can’t say any fairer than that.  I’m glad Belfort is rehabilitated and doing the right thing. As for the other charlatan…

One Nation – Aye right! What planet are you living on pal?

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I met Scott Halley on my way up Singers Road. I assumed he’d been to the polling station. But he told me he didn’t bother. I know a lot of people that don’t bother. I can’t say I blame them. We live in a more-it-tocracy. The more you have the more you expect and the more you get, whether it’s wealth, jobs, health, or education. For the poor politics is something done to you. When you expect nothing and get nothing there are no surprises. That’s what governments do, give you less and less and expect you to stretch it more and more. More-it-tocracy is the politics of the rich.

The big losers in the election were the Labour Party. Alex Salmond called their bluff saying when you make an ally of the Tory Party, as they did in the referendum, and wear the same clothes, people often find it difficult to tell them apart. Ask Clegg and the Liberal Party. The truth is, apart from Trident, there’s not a lot of difference between SNP policies and New Labours. The big difference is SNP haven’t betrayed us – yet, because they haven’t been in the position to do so. We expect the Tory party to do what they do, give money to the rich, take money from the poor, dismantle the welfare state. It’s a tick list and they’re working their way down it.

As Neil Kinnock said of Thatcherism before losing the election to John Major: ‘I warn you not to be ordinary; I warn you not to be young; I warn you not to fall ill; I warn you not to get old’.

Labours biggest fault (well apart from making an ally of David Cameron) was not challenging the Tory lies about the need to bring down the deficit. Historically money at practically zero percent interest has never been so cheap. Apple, by share price and profits, one of the most successful company in corporate history has debt because it’s cheaper to borrow and spend on physical and social capital than just spend. It’s called investing in the future. That well known socialist institution The International Monetary Fund said much the same thing.

Why did we believe this great lie? Well for one thing the 2008 crash happened on Labour’s watch. And although they made noises about what the Tory cuts were doing to society it was too little and too late. Haunted by a past defeat to John Major, when most electoral polls put Labour ahead, the party blamed the electorate for not being able to stomach what was then a modest increase in taxation. The electoral success of Blair and Brown in agreeing to Tory fiscal constraints before being elected was a straitjacket Ed Miliband wore with pride. He was even pictured with it written in stone. They should bury him under it. Labour like the Liberal Party is finished. It’s the equivalent of the Berlin Wall falling. The choices in England are Conservative or Tory? Tory or Conservative? With less than twenty percent of the popular vote they lord it over the United Kingdom.

The Scottish National Party for whom I voted with fifty-two percent of the popular vote in Scotland and 56 of 59 seats is the winner. When Osborne dismantles the welfare state and hollows out the rights of workers and reduces those on benefits to rations and foodbanks that no modern European country, or its citizens, would find tolerable, Salmond can smugly say I told you so. But he can do nothing about it. Win win for him and SNP. Lose, lose for those on less than £100 000 a year.

History is when we’re doomed to make the same mistakes. After the Scottish referendum was lost in 1979 Labour were called the ‘feeble fifty’ because over fifty Labour Members of Parliament had Scottish seats but they could do nothing to halt Thatcherism. SNP MPs mirror that reality.

The big hope is when Cameron holds a referendum over Britain leaving the EEC.  England may well vote yes. Scotland will vote no. We could have a constitutional crisis. I’m sorry to say I was right about the Tory’s winning this election, but less sorry about predicting SNP sweeping Labour aside in Scotland. They got what they deserve. The problem is the Conservatives never seem to get what they deserve. Heads they win. Tails you lose. The games rigged and the poor man is always the loser. Scott Halley has a point. There’s no point in politics. I’m moving my assets to Switzerland where they’ll properly appreciate and I may follow on later.

http://unbound.co.uk/books/lily-poole