Archive for the ‘Ethical’ Tag

The Killing Floor (4)


“You got a sense of duty?”

“Strange question for an early morning… why do you ask?”

“Nothing really – just that I had a nine o’clock meeting with an ethical fund manager…”

“Let me guess… God On A Shoestring?  The Tree Hugging Sap Savers?  Profit With Morality – Extremely Limited plc?”

“Yeh; something like that… anyway it got me thinking…”

Oh no… no; no; no; noooo!  No thinking!  Start thinking about any of that duty with responsibility crap; making money with a clear conscience; high fives, alleluia, final day of reckoning rot and you’ll be like a well-honed boxer who gives into an orgy with three virgins the night before a championship bout.  It’s poison to the only true religion… the only clear faith… the miracle of the balance sheet.”

“So you don’t have a sense of a higher authority in anything you do?”

“Only the regulatory bodies in the City.  And him upstairs – on the twenty-fifth floor.  Always remember: the market is our hymn sheet; the deal our expression of faith and money is the sacrament.”

“You don’t answer to anything from a higher plane then?”

“Not so you’d notice – only me old Dad once; and with all that pressure he put on me when I was a kid… well, I guess all he really wanted was for me to make something of myself.  And that’s being charitable… Now look – the only good cause I work for is the charity of ME.  I’ve seen fire, flood, pestilence, disease, famine, feast, war, uprising, colonial insurrection, revolution, jihad, new constitution, devolution, takeover, flotation, administration, management engineered buyout as well as consolidation… and made money out of all of them.”

“Proud Father then?”

“Not really… he left me Mum the mortgage, next door’s missus a baby, and me a post-it note telling me that he thought I was a waste of space and that he’d see me next Tuesday if you get my drift?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise… where is he now?”

“He opted out to live with a girl half his age but twice his chest size in a tepee community in Wales that lives off the land – and benefits – near the Brecon Beacons.  He’s got hair to his waist, fluff in his navel and what’s left of his brain after years smoking skunk and three more snotty brats to his knees.”

“Oh… Look I’m really sorry…  Hey; what about I go and get us a coffee – Yeh?!”

“Not now … all that ethical shit and talk of my old man has left me feeling distinctly queasy.  Eurgh…  Fuck it…  Let’s make some money!”


The Killing Floor (2)


“Hey… do you ever sort of feel guilty doing this job?”


“What about that we can shut companies down; put people out of work; make Governments cut back on welfare…. does that ever keep you awake at night?”


“Is there any time you’ve gone home at the end of the day with a funny sort of gut feeling – right down in here – that what we’ve done is somehow… immoral?”


“Do you think it’s really possible to reconcile earning so much money – just at the click of a computer key?”


“Shall I go get us a coffee?”

Good man!  I thought you’d never ask… you taking Trish out tonight?  Though Chelsea are on the box in the Champion’s League… thought we could make a foursome later on in the week if that’s alright with you?  Imogen’s been having a go at me, again, says I’ve been neglecting her since she came back off that modelling assignment.  Maybe we could do that member’s club in Soho?  It’s a bit passé now I suppose.  What about that night a couple of years ago at Chinawhite’s?  You remember… it got out of hand when the whole floor was celebrating the merger – I got a bit pissed on the Champagne then she gave me the silent treatment… get me a three shot will you – need something to keep my eye on the ball; let me know what Trish thinks… make sure it’s that Ethiopian blend won’t you?  You know what I like… probably more than Immy these days!  Thought I’d take her somewhere exotic for Easter – trouble is she’s been everywhere warm in the last six months for the swimwear shoots – muggins here will have to push the boat right out to surprise her: there goes the bonus!  Mind you she does get a bit stir crazy in that house all day… have I told you the echo’s deafening?  All those rooms and those high rococo ceilings…. not original features of course – they threw the place up at the end of the last property boom.  They’re a bugger to clean – I told Immy to get a specialist firm in… can’t have the Polish cleaners breaking their necks… though I would send that Filipino maid up the ladder if I had my way – makes me feel like an intruder in my own bloody house!  Disapproving bitch!  I moved into a gated community so I could keep my mother from coming round unannounced and now I end up with earache from her!  Trouble is Immy likes her… she’s got six kids back in Manila and her always talking about them is getting Immy broody… now she says we should start filling some of these empty rooms but I’m not ready yet – you know how it is?!  I expect Trish is the same?  I told her to get a dog – you know, one of those little ankle-biters she can put in one of the designer bags she has for every day of the month that I pay for… at least her expense accounts are cheaper than a house full of brats… now – where’s that coffee?”


The Killing Floor


Yes!!!  Get in there!”

“Someone’s happy?”

“Oh yes… Just had a great result on those commodity prices…”

“Another flaky African republic bites the dust, eh?”

“Left eating it you mean!   We’re like a proactive branch of the Foreign Office here…”

“Why make a packet out of a crisis?”

Because we can!!!” 

“All this talk of dust is making me thirsty… fancy a coffee to celebrate?”

“Only if we go to that little shop around the corner – they do a lovely ethically-sourced Ethiopian blend.  All fairtrade and above board… You know me.”

“Yeh, you’re all heart…


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