amazing day

loving my commodity related trades. also made 80 pips in EUR/USD this weekend.. now long AUD/USD.. enjoy, best of trading =]

MY POSITIONS AS OF 5 25 11

Active positions as of May 19, 2011

STOCK   /  APROX SHARES   /   PRICE IN   /   STOP LOSS   /  MAX RISK $ AND %    
AIZ  -  4,750 @  38.82 - 37.40  /   -  1.42 OR 3.65%
BRO - 3,000 @ 25.95 - 26.00  /   +  0.05 OR 0.19%
CBRX - 2,930 @ 3.25 - 3.19   /    -  0.06 OR 1.8%
DEI - 5,550 @ 20.32  - 20.25  /    -  0.07 OR 0.34%
ROYL - 112,710 @ 4.65 - NO STOP -----------------
SVM - 50,144 @ 14.19  -  NO STOP -----------------
AONE - 4,230 @ 5.90 - 5.70   /    -  0.20 OR 3.38%
MWA - 39,920 @ 4.37 - 4.25  /    -  0.12 OR 2.74%
VG - 37,060 @ 4.77 - 4.60   /        -  0.17 OR 3.56%
ZSL (SHORT) - 17,920 @ 19.76  / - 20.52  /   -0.76 OR 3.84 %

ALSO CHECK OUT @WALL_ST_BROKER     AND   @WALLSTBULLY
http://b2globalstealthfund.blogspot.com/
http://tradeforexcash.blogspot.com/

Silver Bounces for the First Time

A broad-based commodities rally today is helping fuel a surge in the Canadian Mining Stocks Index, which is up 3.7%. The Index has plunged more than 13% in the past month as margin increases ignited a massive sell-off in silver and investors became concerned gold was looking a little frothy.
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also check out http://tradeforexcash.blogspot.com/

Silver Market Defined By Lack of Supply

Silver Market Defined By Lack of Supply

Vedran Vuk, Editor: Casey's Daily Dispatch

Dear Reader,

Readers often inquire about problems that could arise with a gold and silver currency. I don’t want to touch on all the issues, but I do want to discuss one in particular: the volatility of the two commodities. These past few weeks are a perfect example of a good reason for concern. Would precious metals currencies act in a similar way? If silver is $50 one week and $35 the next, the problem is obvious.

Though no one can know the future for certain, we can speculate on the outcome. First of all, if gold and silver became major currencies, I would no longer expect either to trade like a commodity. Instead, gold and silver would trade like any other currency.

The demand for gold would jump through the roof simply from the transactions demand. On top of that, gold and silver markets would receive huge influxes of hedgers. The market would no longer be filled with investors betting on inflation or the state of the world economy. Instead, companies hedging against uneven cash flows would dominate the market. This change in the major players would make the market far more stable and akin to currency trading.

In the world of currencies, large single-day moves are fairly rare. A 2% drop is considered rather significant. Hence, most volatility fears would be unfounded with a precious metals currency. Furthermore, gold and silver might be more stable than other currencies. Think about the money supply for a second. What makes currencies go up and down? A lot of it has to do with a central bank’s printing press.
A currency naturally reacts unfavorably to poor monetary policy. But with gold and silver, the supply is rather fixed. If it was utilized as a free-floating currency, central banks would have little influence on the price of gold. In many ways, it would be far more predictable than monetary policy now. We can’t accurately predict Fed policy and monetary expansion years ahead of time. However, the future supply and production of gold is fairly stable.
When have you ever opened the Daily Dispatch to find the price of gold dropping on over-production? Exactly… never. To sum up my point, gold would trade in a completely different way if a major economy adopted it as a currency. The same is true of the dollar now. Does it trade like a currency or does it trade like the underlying paper? The answer is obvious. Similarly, the gold market would entirely change, if gold were adopted as a major currency.
The bigger question is not how gold and silver would trade, but rather “How would other currencies compete, if a major economy switched to a precious metal?” If the U.S. adopted gold as a medium of exchange, why would anyone want to hold euros?
Now, let’s get to the issue. Since we’re on the topic of gold and silver supply, Jeff Clark will interview Andy Schectman of Miles Franklin on the short supply in the silver market. Then I’ll comment on some anecdotal evidence of a disillusioned youth labor market, and last, I’ll provide some short links.

"The Silver Market Will Be Defined By a Lack of Supply”

Jeff Clark, BIG GOLD
I heard some disturbing reports about silver supply last month that I felt every investor should know. And while precious metals are currently in correction mode, the long-term concerns with supply won’t disappear any time soon. In an attempt to get a handle on the bullion market, I spoke to Andy Schectman of Miles Franklin, who has contacts that run deep in the industry. What he sees every day might just compel you to count how many ounces you own…
Jeff Clark: Andy, tell us about your industry contacts and how you get the information you're privy to.
Andy Schectman: We source our product from three of the largest six primary U.S. mint distributors. Having 20 years of experience with these sources, as well as the dealers in the secondary market, we're as tied into the industry as anyone.
Jeff: You made some interesting comments to me about supply and premiums. Tell us what you’re hearing and seeing in the bullion market right now.
Andy: I feel as though I'm the boy who cries wolf, or that I've been beating the same drum for too long. But in reality, it has been my feeling since late 2007 that ultimately this market will be defined less by the price going parabolic – which I think ultimately will happen – and more by a lack of supply. You see occasional reports that state it’s just a lack of refined silver or lack of silver in investable form. But as far as I'm concerned, there is a major supply deficit issue, and it’s getting worse.
Take the U.S. Mint, for example. Right now, as we talk, you can barely get Silver Eagles. We’re seeing delivery delays of three to four weeks, and premium hikes of a dollar or more in the last three weeks. Most of the suppliers in the country are reluctant to take large orders on Silver Eagles because they don’t know (a) when they’ll get them, and (b) what the premiums will be when they arrive.
I was talking to the head of Prudential Bache and asked him about Silver Eagles. He said, "You know, as soon as the allocations come in, they’re sold out. We can't keep them in." This is coming from one of the largest distributors of U.S. Mint products in the country.
And this is all occurring in an environment that has only minimal participation by the masses. Few people in this country have ever even held a gold or silver coin. So, if it's this difficult to get bullion now, what's it going to be like when it becomes evident to the masses they need to buy? This is what keeps me up at night.
Jeff: Some analysts say it's a bottleneck issue, that the mints have enough stock but just need more time or more workers to fabricate the metal into the bars and coins customers want.
Andy: No, I don’t believe that. What business do you know that if they had that much profit potential wouldn’t increase production and hire more workers to meet demand? To me, the “inefficient model” argument is an excuse.
Look at what the U.S. Mint alone has done: they haven’t made the Platinum Eagle since 2008. They make maybe one-tenth as many gold Buffalos as they do Gold Eagles. They’ve made hardly any fractional-ounce Gold Eagles. Heck, they can’t even keep up with the demand for the products they do offer. Does that sound like a bottleneck to you? Or is it because there is far more demand than there is available supply? It’s pretty clear to me it’s the latter.
Jeff: What are you seeing in the secondary market? Are investors selling bullion?
Andy: There is no secondary market. Absolutely none. Nobody is selling back anything, at least not to us. Think about that: if this was a traditional investment and your portfolio went up 100% in the last year, like silver has, you’d think some investors would take some profits and ride the rest out – but nobody’s selling anything.
This is why I think the lack of supply is the single biggest issue in this market. And in time, I think it will become much more obvious. [Ed. note: We’re using the term “secondary market” in this instance to mean sellers of bullion and not the scrap market.]
There are only five major mints – U.S., Canada, South Africa, Austria, and Australia. Yes, there is a Chinese mint and a couple Swiss mints and some private refiners, but they amount to very little in the overall scheme of things. We’re in a situation where the mints are limiting the selection and raising the premiums, and this is occurring at a time when most people own no bullion. As it becomes more apparent that people want bullion instead of paper dollars, I think you'll see premiums go parabolic and supply get even tighter.
Jeff: Are you getting a lot of new buyers to the bullion market?
Andy: More than ever. One of the interesting things we’re seeing is a lot of younger people dipping a toe in the water, buying little bits of silver here and there. We’re also seeing bigger orders, as well as more frequent phone calls from financial advisers asking us if we can help their clients. So yes, the base is broadening.
Jeff: That's very interesting. So are you seeing more demand for gold or silver right now?
Andy: 90% of the new business is in silver. And I think that’s indicative of the state of the economy. People are trying to get into precious metals, but they think gold is too high. I think they’re buying silver because they realize the fundamentals for owning gold also apply to silver. They think the profit potential is better in silver, too. This has actually made the supply for gold better than it is for silver right now, and a lot of that has to do with price.
Jeff: Why are premiums fluctuating so frequently?
Andy: Premiums are almost impossible to gauge right now. Because the availability of product is getting smaller and smaller and the demand is getting stronger and stronger, premiums are changing literally overnight. And it doesn’t take many large investors around the country to force premiums higher.
The net of this is that it's really hard for us to be able to say what the premium for a specific product will be two weeks out.
Jeff: You mentioned increased interest from fund managers. Tell us the kind of comments you’re hearing and why they’re buying bullion.
Andy: I think it’s coming from their clients. It’s my impression that people are taking it upon themselves to study a little bit more – to be more accountable for their assets – and I think they’re telling their financial advisors to buy gold. And in some cases it’s because they don’t want a paper derivative.
It’s no secret that financial advisors don’t like gold and silver. Once money goes to a bullion dealer, it’s not coming back to a stock portfolio any time soon, so they discredit it. But now it’s my impression they’re being asked by their clients to buy it. So it’s not necessarily because the financial advisor wants gold as much as it is the client requesting it.
Here’s a good example. There’s a firm here in Minneapolis that represents the Pillsbury fortune, and they asked me to talk to their partners about precious metals a few months ago. At the end of the conversation they said, "Okay, we're going to place an order for one of our clients.” Upon hearing it was for one client, I thought it would be in the range of $50,000 to $100,000. Well, the order was for $5 million.
There are two astonishing things about this. First, that’s twice as big as the largest order I've ever had. It was one order, for one client, who’s brand new to the market. How many more potential buyers are out there like that? Second, they made it abundantly clear to me that it was out of pressure from one of their clients that they sought me out. So clients are increasingly demanding bullion, regardless of what their financial advisers say.
Jeff: Hearing about all this new buying might make some think we’re near a top in the market. Could that be the case?
Andy: No, no [chuckles]. I think Richard Russell says it best: "Bull markets die of exhaustion and over-participation." Well, we’re nowhere near that point when so few people in this country own gold and silver. Heck, I’m a bullion dealer, and most of my peers don’t own any gold and silver! Yes, you're seeing more commercials, but there are just as many commercials to buy gold as there are to sell it. I think that’s an indication this market is not exhausted.
Remember that in the year 2000 everyone and his brother had some NASDAQ shares. That’s an example of an exhausted or over-participated market. We’re nowhere near that.
Jeff: Where are the best premiums for silver?
Andy: The very best buy in silver right now is junk silver. And by the way, I think the term “junk” is unfair. It isn't junk any more. It used to be junk in the ‘90s when silver was three or four bucks an ounce and it was sold basically at melt value and carried no premium. So I’d call it “90% dimes and quarters.” Anyway, junk silver has the lowest premium right now and, in my opinion, offers the best upside potential.
Next would be 10- and 100-ounce silver bars. And then one-ounce silver coins – but the Eagles are very expensive at the moment, if you can get them. The Austrian Philharmonic has the best value in a one-ounce silver coin right now, and they’re available. But again, premiums for all silver coins are escalating.
Jeff: What about gold?
Andy: Gold is not as bad. In fact, I would say that gold availability is decent right now for one-ounce coins and bars. There isn’t much available in fractionals. And Buffalos are still kind of hard to get. Other than that, the one-ounce coins with decent availability are Canadian Maple Leafs, Australian Kangaroos, and Krugerrands. And they all have decent premiums.
Jeff: So the take-away message is what?
Andy: First, I think you said it best with your recommendation to “accumulate.” Not only will it smooth out the volatility in price and premiums you pay, it will also give you a bird in the hand. If I'm right about this market, and I really believe I am, it will be defined by lack of availability of refined product. To combat that, just accumulate month in and month out, and be thankful when you're able to get what you want.
Second, it’s about the number of ounces you own. You want to get as many ounces as you can without being penny wise and pound foolish. Stick with the most recognized products – don’t buy 1,000-ounce bars, for example, because they’re illiquid. You want to maximize your liquidity, and you do that by buying the most common forms of bullion – one-ounce coins, bars, and rounds; 10- and 100-ounce products; and junk silver.
Last, keep in mind that premium and commission are two different animals. Commission is what the dealers make on top of the premium. Premium is what the industry bears. So if the U.S. Mint is selling Silver Eagles for $3 over spot to the distributors, that's before they’re marked up to the public. So even though the “premium” is high, you're actually going to get most of that back when you sell. [Ed note: It’s not uncommon for the buyer to recapture most of the premium when they sell, particularly during periods of high demand.]
So, buy gold and silver while it’s available, even if you don’t buy it from me, because if I'm right, getting it at all could soon be your biggest challenge.
Jeff: Thanks for your insights, Andy.
We just concluded our spring Casey Summit, The Next Few Years – a truly blockbuster event that included detailed investment recommendations from 35 of the most successful experts. We covered all facets of precious metals, energy, interest rates, the economy, real estate, and more. It's the single best way to prepare both your finances and family for what's ahead.

Are Young Workers Ready To Tune in and Drop Out?

By Vedran Vuk
In previous issues of the Daily Dispatch, I’ve detailed the difficulty many young workers have finding a job, particularly individuals only a few years out of school. This shows up in the statistics, and it reflects my personal experience. Many of my friends in their 20s have had an extremely tough time finding work. Few have found career-track positions.
The situation has remained pretty much the same, but I’ve noticed a strange change amongst friends with decent career-track employment. I’m talking about entry-level positions at major corporations paying somewhere around $45K. As many of you know firsthand, being the entry-level guy at a major corporation can be rough. One can really be abused, and one will earn every penny of that 45K. Usually, the payoff is worth it in the long run.
However, I’m seeing friends with a few years in a good company quitting their jobs. Essentially, there’s no upward mobility left in their companies. With so many retirement accounts and home prices hit by the crash, the senior executives aren’t retiring. In turn, the corporate ladder has stagnated from the top to the bottom.
These entry-level kids are slaving away with absolutely no chance of a promotion or raise in sight. They’re no longer seeing the American dream in their future. After sacrificing the prime years of their lives in major corporations, they find themselves not getting ahead and enviously looking to friends in grad school and lower-paying, less-stressful jobs. As a result, some are outright quitting the corporate world.
So far, this is just anecdotal evidence. I don’t have any hard numbers here, but I thought it was worth mentioning.  Let me know if you’ve seen the same thing happening at your workplace.

Additional Links and Reads

PIMCO's Largest "Equity" Holding – Gold (ZeroHedge)
ZeroHedge explores the conundrum of PIMCO funds. On the one hand, PIMCO is bearish on the U.S. dollar, but on the other hand, they’re not long gold right? Wrong. PIMCO’s bond funds can’t own gold as a part of the funds’ mandates, but some of the other PIMCO funds are big on gold.
China Cuts Holdings of U.S. Treasurys for Fifth Month (Associated Press)
China has slightly trimmed its Treasury holdings by $9.2 billion, and Japan has increased its holdings by $17.6 billion. Though these numbers aren’t huge, they draw attention – especially the Japanese purchases. With the earthquake, one would expect Japanese purchases to decline rather than increase.
Gasoline at 20 Cents a Gallon – If You’re Paying with Silver (LewRockwell.com)
Here’s an interesting picture of a sign at an Ashland, Oregon gas station. Apparently, one can pay in the regular bills or 20 cents in silver coins. The brief article outlines under what conditions it might make sense to pay in silver.
That’s it for today. Before I go, I just need to make a quick note. David Galland wrote Friday’s Daily Dispatch, and many longtime readers noticed. However, my signature was erroneously left at the bottom. I hope this clears up the confusion. With that correction, thank you for reading and subscribing to Casey’s Daily Dispatch.

Vedran Vuk
Casey's Daily Dispatch Editor

awesome read i found ,.. i know its long but worth it

Get Richest Quickest

In the precarious hedge-fund bubble, it’s either clean up�or flame out.

• By Steve Fishman
• Published May 21, 2005

Zachary George of Pirate Capital, Norwalk, Connecticut.   (Photo: Michael Edwards)

Zachary R. George, 27, serious, square-shouldered, and wearing some kind of goo in his hair, sits at a long counter of a desk in Norwalk, Connecticut. He’s got a phone and a screen, like a telemarketer. Picking up the receiver, Zachary dials into the conference call.


�Harry,� begins Zachary when it’s his turn. Zachary and Harry J. Phillips Jr., the 55-year-old CEO of Cornell Companies, one of Houston’s top 100 businesses, use each other’s first names, as if they’re cordial, which they’re not.


�You work for us,� Zachary likes to let Harry know. Zachary represents a two-year-old hedge fund called Pirate Capital, a name that Zachary says gets people’s attention. (And if that doesn’t, then the 32 percent returns per year do.) For $20 million, Pirate purchased 13 percent of Harry’s company, which runs prisons. This makes Pirate Harry’s largest shareholder and, as Zachary sees it, Harry’s boss.


By now Harry, a distinguished member of prestigious boards, a trustee of his alma mater, Washington & Lee, is accustomed to Zachary’s urgent tones, especially when it comes to, as Harry put it, his �recent acquisition of an interest in Cornell.�


Zachary, for his part, doesn’t really understand how people outside Wall Street can expect to not make their numbers and still have friendly relations. Zachary, who looks like he might still be the college snowboard competitor he once was, takes a different view. Cornell has missed its earnings predictions for six or seven quarters running. �Why,� he’d recently asked Harry, �should anyone expect a CEO that has overseen the destruction of so much shareholder value to be able to turn things around now?�


Harry knows that Cornell, with its 4,000 employees in sixteen states, has had some disappointments. But on the conference call, he makes it sound as if that’s a mere detail. �We are going to grow this company,� Harry tells the analysts. Then, as if the greatest worry might be that Harry is going to throw in the towel, he adds, �We’re in it for the long term.�


Zachary, it turns out, has been thinking along different lines. When it’s his turn, he lets Harry know that he and his four colleagues at Pirate have come to a decision: They want the company sold, and Harry replaced. He’s run the numbers, which are eloquent�the effect on stock price could be a 50 percent gain. To Harry, that sounds like a �fire sale��not to mention unemployment�and all because some out-of-town hedge fund is in a profit-taking mood. (Actually, half a dozen out-of-town hedge funds are circling Harry’s company.)

One afternoon, a stock blew up, and Loeb lost $20 million, �an inflection point� that required, he said, �intense reflection.� Then he bought more.

�I’m not trying to be an asshole,� Zachary explained, emphasis on the word trying. Still, he next tells Harry and everyone else on the phone that he’s launched a search for a new CEO. Pirate has flown in candidates. Zachary has interviewed them in Pirate’s conference room, with its view of the office mascot, a life-size wooden pirate.


And so, concluding, Zachary leans into the phone and says, �Next year we’re going to be here, and you won’t.�
In the past few years, running a few hundred million dollars for a hedge fund�and taking tens of millions for yourself�has become the going Wall Street dream. And this high-risk, high-return trading game has lured plenty of dreamers. Nowadays, people like Zach�young, aggressive, impatient�seem to be all over. There are currently about 7,000 hedge funds, 95 percent of which didn’t exist ten years ago. Not that anyone knows exact numbers. In addition to being arrogant and insular, they’re also clandestine. �A guy can control a $5 billion fund, and you have no idea who he is,� explains one observer.


Most everyone, though, seems aware of the galling sums of money hedge-fund managers can pull in. What financial type hasn’t had shoved under his nose Institutional Investor’s list of the top hedge-fund earners? The bottom guy made $65 million last year, which happens to be more than the combined pay of the CEOs of Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, and JPMorgan. �Never have so few made so much,� announced Institutional Investor. Even the manager of a smaller fund, someone like Zach’s boss at Pirate, which has $200 million in capital, is in line to make more than the CEO of General Electric, the fourth-largest company in the country.


Hedge-fund money has changed New York in the past few years, as hitherto unheard-of investors suddenly snatch up trophy real estate, decorate it with imported stones they’ve just got to have in their living room and, of course, a Picasso, then fly off in the Gulfstream to, well, another home.


Hedge funds have traditionally been open only to rich investors, those who supposedly can handle the risk. (Though Schwab will put anyone in for $25,000 these days.) In return, they’re not saddled with the kind of government oversight one expects when small investors’ money is at risk in, say, mutual funds. Within the hedge-fund category, there are a dizzying array of strategies, including some identified with banks, venture capitalists, and private equity firms. In addition to trading equities, currencies, and debt, hedge funds make loans, buy companies�and occasionally even seek to control them. Though even Zach’s company doesn’t often try to oust management.


Hedge funds skim as much as 2 percent off the top of the asset pool: Carl Icahn, the famed corporate raider, who�him too�recently launched a hedge fund, takes 2.5 percent. If you have a $1 billion fund, then, as one manager explains, �it’s January 1st. Welcome to work. You’ve got $20 million in the bank.� (And hedge funds don’t have many costs.) But the real money and the real defining characteristic of hedge funds, no matter their strategy, is this: They take a portion of the profits, usually 20 percent. (Icahn, of course, takes more.)


For years, the average overachieving M.B.A. could imagine nothing better than a job as investment banker�Zach had briefly been on that track. Investment bankers were the smart guys in $2,000 suits who whispered in the CEO’s ear. They cashed boat-size bonus checks from bringing tech companies public. But a sputtering economy not only hampered investment bankers (and Internet entrepreneurs) but also much of a once booming money-management business. In the past five years, the S&P index of stocks was down .6 percent. While investors licked their wounds, hedge-fund managers posted a titillating 15 percent return over that same period. No wonder they lord it over the rest.


�Investment bankers?� says one hedge-fund guy. �Their lives are miserable.� He ticks off the shortcomings�he seems to have been keeping track. The punishing hours, the endless pitching, and all those dull, needy clients. What could be worse? Perhaps only a job at a sleepy mutual fund, a plain vanilla, as the hedge-fund managers sometimes call them.


By comparison, the hedge-fund manager’s life seems effortless. Gloriously client-free and with reasonable hours. �I got into this business,� says one hedge guy�is he stifling a yawn?��so I could make money while I sleep.�

The classic hedge-fund creation story concerns a young trader at an investment bank. Opening his year-end bonus check, his jaw drops in amazement.


�We thought you’d be happy,� says his supervisor. �That’s the largest first-year bonus we’ve ever given.�


�Happy?� responds the young man, confused.


He’d wrung millions out of the market, and yet the firm rewarded him as a junior team member. He quit that day, the story goes, to start a hedge fund.


And here’s the twist: He can. It doesn’t take much. To run money, which is how managers refer to what they do, requires little more than a few computers. Zach’s boss likes to say, �I could run $100 million by myself.� The theory is that they’ve got an almost athletic gift for investing. They’re the type who can, as one manager did, call the direction of the market correctly 22 days in a row. They don’t want (or need) the kind of marketing, sales, and investor-relations apparatus that comes with, say, a mutual fund.


These days, many hedge-fund managers seem to hail from Wharton or, better yet, Goldman Sachs, lately a kind of hedge-fund farm team. (Pirate Capital founder Tom Hudson, 38, had passed through Goldman Sachs, where he earned a guaranteed $1 million a year.) On the other hand, one independent filmmaker started a hedge fund with his father, a psychologist, and raised $2 million.


�Anyone can hang a shingle,� says Jim Torrey, who runs the Torrey Funds, which invests $500 million in hedge funds.


No one says it aloud, but the message was clear. Join a hedge fund�or, better yet, start one, Zach’s ultimate goal�and, well, as one member of Hedgeworld put it, you could be a �supercapitalist,� an action figure in khaki pants with a shot at �screw-you amazing money,� as the saying goes. A supercapitalist roams the globe (figuratively, since mostly he’s installed in his cubicle), seeking undervalued assets. He even, like Zach, occasionally gets to rail against managements that unjustly depress shareholder value. The choice is yours. An adviser nattering on in a good suit, or else �someone who has,� as one hedge-fund guy asserted, �the ability to make things happen by his own will or his own checkbook.�


The investment banker talks your ear off, charms you with his minor gifts. And for what? To give advice. There’s a hedge-fund put-down. �We get to pull the trigger,� says one manager. Just for the pleasure of illustrating the point, one hedge-fund guy sitting at a café in a burgundy golf shirt�he has no clients and thus no dress code�grabs his cell phone off the table. �Give me $100 million of . . . ,� he says, and names the company. �That’s how hard it is.� It’s that easy if�and here’s the implication�you have the nerve. As one hedge manager all but snorted, �Bankers have no appetite for risk.�


The hedge-fund manager, by his own estimation, is made of different stuff. �We are not afraid of risk,� one elite manager explains. �That’s what separates us from everyone else.� Huge bets are the norm. One thing is certain: Lose your nerve and you’ll lose your money.

Aggression is the norm. �If you’re buying into the market,� says one, �then by definition, you’re saying the person selling to you is an idiot.�

Risk, of course, is the dark side of the hedge-fund experience. Everyone in Hedgeworld knows that the market�Mr. Market, to some�can decide to show a young supercapitalist just who’s boss. �You can do everything right and the share price can still go haywire,� says one manager.


Some hedge funds blow up, the term for disaster. (The famous collapse of Longterm Capital in the late nineties seemed poised to unsettle the global economy.) Clearly, consolidation and failure lie ahead. (And, investment bankers point out, banks will be here in twenty years.)


As newcomers flood the field, great deals are harder to find. Suddenly, as one manager says, �it’s shark versus shark.� Hedge-fund returns this year are close to flat. There is talk in financial circles�tinged with hard-to-suppress Schadenfreude�that this is the top of the hedge-fund game, the moment just before everything changes. Clearly, the easy money has already been made. The federal government recently has talked about regulation. �I wouldn’t want my kids going into it now,� says one manager. Nevertheless, as the stock market continues to post unimpressive returns, investor belief in hedge-fund magic shows no signs of abating. Money pours in at record rates�this is the fifth consecutive record quarter. Eric Mindich, formerly of Goldman Sachs, just raised $3 billion. By all accounts, money will continue to arrive�pension funds want in!�as will the sharks.


Every hedge-fund manager has a story of how, one sunny afternoon, he lost $20 million or $60 million or $100 million. Losses can initiate a death spiral. The question for all the aggressive new sharks �and their hopeful investors�is this: When your time comes, will you be able to handle it? Or will you too blow up one day?
The Day Daniel S. Loeb, 42, picks his latest fight, this one a skirmish with Wilbur Ross Jr., a former investment banker (which may be part of the problem), he doesn’t appear to be in the best mood. It’s the end of the trading day at Loeb’s Madison Avenue offices�he liked the space enough to bid the price up. (But then it comes with a 4,000-square-foot terrace, perfect for walking Biggie, his miniature pinscher.) Loeb heads down a hallway, swings by the Richard Prince photo featuring a bare-breasted girl on a Harley. He turns into the conference room with its fogging glass wall and sets up at a blue plastic-topped table. (He liked the designers so much he had them do his place in South Beach.) Loeb’s going off caffeine. His assistant has a green tea waiting for him.


�A stock blew up,� he offers offhandedly. The offending stock, Leap Wireless, a cell-phone company, unexpectedly gapped down five points, attention-getting since Loeb owns about 4 million shares, for a quick $20 million loss.


Loeb is a focus guy. Each morning at 5:30, he makes his way from his West Village townhouse to a yoga center and puts his feet behind his neck, which Loeb maintains is good for concentration. Still, at the moment, Loeb seems distracted. His hair, which is starting to gray, sticks up in patches. He wears white corduroys. His shirt, with pink and purple stripes, is untucked. �Let’s put it in context,� he says. �It’s never fun to lose a lot of money.� But it’s only $20 million. �We lost a little over 1 percent of the fund,� he points out. He calls for a trash can for his tea bag.


By contrast, the Ross matter seems a bit of fun, a mood elevator. Loeb places the press release on the table. It seems that Loeb and Ross, who has his own private equity fund, find themselves in the same investment. Recently, Loeb purchased $37 million of bankrupt Horizon Natural Resources, a coal company. Ross heads the committee guiding the company through bankruptcy.


In this capacity, Loeb says, warming up, Ross has committed �an egregious example of greed and self-dealing.� From Loeb’s point of view, he overweights his compensation, a mistake Loeb suggests may be a reflex from �the many years you spent generating fees . . . � Loeb accuses Ross of �double-dipping,� a charge that sent Loeb’s jittery lawyers running for cover. �He’s a bit of a blowhard,� says Loeb, who knew Ross wouldn’t sue. Blowhard, apparently, isn’t entirely pejorative. Loeb admires Ross’s success in the steel industry��no disrespect,� says Loeb.


Disrespect, though, is kind of a Loeb sideline. Since 1995, Loeb has run Third Point Management, a hedge fund he started with $3.3 million from family and friends. He now has eight other investment personnel and $1.7 billion, which to Loeb’s mind isn’t particularly exceptional these days. At a hedge-fund charity event, he asked for a show of hands: Anyone here not run a $1 billion hedge fund? His fund has returned over 25 percent annually to investors.


Loeb is well known in Hedgeworld for his attacks on what he views as greedy execs who also happen to be depressing shareholder value. Of shares he owns. �The moral-indignation business,� Loeb sometimes calls it.


Hedge-fund guys love to read Loeb’s attacks��he articulates what people feel,� says one. Usually, the letters accompany Loeb’s government filings. If you buy 5 percent of a public company, you must file with the SEC; Loeb once increased his holdings, at a cost of more than $4 million, just so he could file a letter.

Loeb is proud of his letters, which are thorough, well argued, and filled with clever turns of phrase. (He had a batch prepared for his high-school English teacher.) In a letter to the CEO of Warnaco, he referred to the CEO’s �imminent involuntary extraction.� To the CEO of Bindview Corp., a software company, he wrote of �your seemingly perpetual failure.� He’s gone after Intercept, Potlatch, Penn Virginia. There’s one where he calls the CEO �Chief Value Destroyer,� which he abbreviates CVD. �I’m surprised some CEO hasn’t had him shot,� says one manager.


Loeb’s letters are great entertainment. They also show the degree to which hedge funds play by different rules. Anyone who’s consulted an investment adviser has seen the �rules of intelligent investing for the rest of us.� They’re in a booklet apparently printed just for you�usually your name is on the cover. The booklet appears to prove several shocking facts. First, how stupid you are to even try to pick winning stocks. Second, how dangerous it is for you to try to time the market, to buy at a bottom or sell at a top.


And so, he tells you what financial advisers tell most every hapless investor. Diversify your portfolio and your asset classes. Which is his way of letting you know he’s not going to actually manage your money. Rather, he’ll divide it into a few asset buckets and diversify it by industry group, and then he’s going to, as Loeb says of Ross, �extract his fee,� which, though he does his work up front, must be paid each year.


For most hedge-fund managers, this is insanity. �You might as well walk through Times Square with money sticking out of your pockets and yell, �Rob me!’ � says one. Hedge funds don’t, as a rule, take the diversified view, an attempt, in their mind, to perform just like everyone else. They’re looking for winners. Their goal is to get in near the bottom and slip out of the way when the top crests.


The pressure is on. Mutual funds live off a percentage of the money invested. �We eat what we kill,� hedge-fund people like to say, a reference to the fact that they take a share of the profits. To a hedge-fund manager’s mind, mutual funds, or plain vanillas, are lazy. Vanillas, so the thinking goes, make their money through their vast marketing machine. Their investment goal is simply not to lose more than the market average. �My eyes glaze over when people start talking about their performance relative to an index,� says Loeb. �I’m an absolute-return guy,� says another manager. After all, no profits, no bonus.


And so, for hedge-fund managers, investing is an aggressor’s game. �If you’re buying into the market,� points out one, �then, by definition, you’re saying the person selling to you is an idiot.�

�Investment bankers?� says a hedge-fund guy. �Their lives are miserable.� He lists the shortcomings: punishing hours, dull, needy clients.

Joseph Carvin is unlike Loeb in many ways. Carvin helps run the $1.2 billion Altima Partners, not from Madison Avenue but from a cluttered two-person room in White Plains about the size of an SUV. (His eight other partners are in London.) Loeb focuses on U.S. stocks; Carvin on everything but. (Ask for a tip, and he suggests Argentine debt denominated in yen.) Still, like Loeb, he knows that the key to outsize returns is to make big bets on good ideas.


�Diversification is deworsification,� says Carvin, then tosses his head back and laughs like Beavis. This July, Altima Partners spun out of Deutsche Bank, where it had been for five years. Some hedge funds own dozens, even hundreds of positions. Loeb probably has over 50. Still, the point holds. Your investment adviser believes that a rising market lifts all investors, and thus, really, it doesn’t matter what stocks you’re in as long as you’re in the market. The hedge guy believes, as Carvin explains, �you have to be right, like, 75 percent of the time.�


And so, what hedge managers need is not a pie chart that divvies up a portfolio into offsetting slices. For the hedge manager, the trick is coming up with the right ideas. As one mournful manager asks, �How many good ideas do you get a year?� Carvin expects his fund to find four or maybe five a year (which, incidentally, means his �biggest challenge is to sit and do nothing�). The trick is to gain, as citizens of Hedgeworld like to say, �conviction,� an almost mystical thing. �If you have to run the numbers, it’s too late,� says Carvin, only half-joking. Really, the hedgie believes you ought to be able to, as one put it, �smell a good deal.�


You’re after an informational edge��something that someone else doesn’t know,� says one hedge-fund guy�the more inside, the better. �I have to know things about a company before the company does,� says Zach. (Sometimes he’d tweak a company by calling an exec to let him know what’s going on with his company.) Some hire private investigators. Loeb’s letters bristle with insider details, the result, he says, of �The Investigation,� which he likes to capitalize. He learned that one company leased a private jet from a firm controlled by the CEO, and that the CEO’s son-in-law was on the payroll and, as Loeb’s Investigation further determined, on the golf course during the workday.


Information in hand, hedge-fund managers tend to be high on their own analytic powers. One manager started an online chat room where he liked to hold forth in the guise of stock-market lord. �In His divine wisdom,� he began one entry, then laid out his analysis for buying an inexpensive telecom stock.


Loeb’s background is in bankruptcies��investment’s black art,� according to a fellow practitioner. When Drexel Burnham went bust in 1990, 10,000 people lost jobs, which was terrible. It was also, Loeb recalls, �one of the most successful bankruptcy investments ever.� As a hedge-fund manager, Loeb has a preferred strategy: to buy into troubled companies�this, not the letter-writing, is the key to his success. It’s a terrific way to catch a company at the bottom. Most emerge from bankruptcy having shed millions of dollars of debt. (For companies, bankruptcy is like fat camp.) He bought Warnaco in bankruptcy, paying, as he couldn’t resist writing to the CEO, the equivalent of $6.50 a share�a 59 percent discount, he calculated, over the then�trading price. Eventually he’d sell his stake for about $16.50 a share.


Once the hedge fund spots an opportunity, the trick is to throw $50 million or $100 million or more at it, sometimes borrowing if he has to. Loeb calls it �concentrating my positions.� He’ll put as much as 10 percent of his assets�$170 million�into a single idea. Judging by Loeb’s letters, there have been nine ideas good enough to prompt a 5 percent stake in a company so far this year. Pirate’s $20 million stake in Cornell was 10 percent of its assets.


Smaller bets don’t make any sense. �If you have $10 million in a position and it doubles, which is spectacular, okay, so you make $10 million,� explains Carvin. �But $10 million over $1 billion! Who cares?� In fact, in that case, the only possible conclusion is that you’re a moron. �You should’ve had $50 million in it,� says Carvin. �Then it has an impact.�

The frustration occurs when the bet, the one you are convinced will come good, is stacked high, if only the stock price would move. Waiting isn’t easy. Every dollar ticks with pressure. You report to investors every month. You earn bonuses every year. �I have to make money every day,� says one hedge-fund guy.


You’d like a catalyst, or you’d like to create one. Carvin says, �We can create the event,� the one that will unlock shareholder value. That’s the supercapitalist spirit. Few hedge funds would make that claim so boldly (though, clearly, that’s what Loeb, with his green tea and his scorching letters, tries do do). Carvin once bought a Brazilian telephone company, then arranged to have its stock listed on an American exchange. Word of the move leaked out; the stock jumped. It took another year to actually get the stock listed, and then, as Carvin says, �it was a dud.� By that time, though, Carvin was on to other opportunities.


Even young Zachary may have successfully given events a nudge. Harry Phillips announced last week that after one year as CEO of Cornell Companies, he was stepping down, not that he credited Pirate’s initiative, which frosted Zach. Harry is staying on as chairman. �Ridiculous,� says Zach, who’s thinking of running for the board of directors himself.


Of course, as every hedge manager knows, the more you load up, the greater the risk. That means that some percentage of the time, things go wrong. �Inevitable,� says Loeb. Indeed, hedge-fund managers like to say that losses are significant mostly as a test. You have to be able to handle it, which mainly means handling the pain. �You have to forget how good your education is and how well you did in finance,� says Loeb. �You have to take it.� If you can survive, fund and will intact, then you get to remark, in a nonchalant tone, how losing a fortune in a few hours is really good for the character.


In October 2002, Loeb watched $60 million disappear in one swing. He was shorting technology, hoping for a final sell-off. He had visions of the legendary hedge-fund manager Paul Tudor Jones II, who was said to have perfectly timed the crash of 1987. Unfortunately, Loeb’s timing was off. He’d caught the bottom. �Fuck! Idiot!� he’d yelled at himself.


The stock market is rational, every hedge-fund guy believes, but only in the long term. Short term, you’d better get a grip. �I have trained myself to not get emotional about making or losing money,� says one manager. Emotion can be your undoing. Especially fear. Fear mobilizes ordinary investors, whom hedge-fund managers sometimes think of as tourists. A tourist caught in a falling stock has only one goal: pain relief. He runs for the exits, puking up his holdings. To make himself feel better.


Loeb knew what it was to be �sick to my stomach from losses.� The $60 million swing would cause his only negative year, down 7 percent. Still, of lasting importance was that he’d unwound the position, made it out. And, having endured that test, he could face others. When, last month, the emotional sellers puked up Leap, Loeb lost a quick $20 million in an afternoon. �An inflection point,� he called it, almost medically. It required �intense reflection,� he said, but not panic. He thought about why he’d bought the stock in the first place. He looked at the company’s competitors. He saw nothing but upside. Loeb bought more shares�bought them on the puke, as the expression goes.


In Loeb’s lobby one day, an incongruous visitor appears. It’s Loeb’s rabbi. He’s the one with the velvet yarmulke and the cell phone to his ear. He motions at the Richard Prince photo of the bare-breasted girl. �You should cover her up a little,� he says, then follows Loeb into his office for a weekly Torah lesson.


�Money isn’t everything,� Loeb says by way of explanation.

Fifty million, sadly, leaves one flying commercial. Hedge-fund money can put you into exhilarating conversations about the virtues of Gulfstreams versus Falcons.

Still, it’s quite a lot. In fact, what else is there? Investment bankers report that they, you know, �create industries.� �Hedge funds are just about the money,� says one investment banker, channeling, momentarily, a Peace Corps volunteer. �Not everybody, believe it or not, is totally driven by the money.�


Hedge funds, though, don’t have any other product. Loeb knew he wasn’t in the moral-indignation business. �The only thing I care about,� he says, �is making money for my investors.� And, not incidentally, himself. �Hedge funds are the best way to make a fortune today,� says one manager succinctly. And what a fortune it is!


The financial implications of the hedge-fund fee structure aren’t complicated. The hedge-fund industry approaches, in round numbers, $1 trillion in assets. Last year, according to one hedge-fund index, hedge funds returned almost 20 percent. Thus, last year alone, something like $40 billion flowed into the hands of hedge-fund managers�which is, on average, close to $6 million for every single person who opened a hedge fund.


And that’s not the top. The top is staggering. Institutional Investor reported that George Soros, perhaps the most famous hedge-fund manager, earned $750 million last year�and that’s real money, not stock options. That one-year take would have made him one of Forbes’s 400 richest Americans, tied for 389 with Teresa Heinz Kerry. (Soros, not limited to just one year, is the 24th richest American, worth $7.2 billion.)


In a letter to one CEO, Loeb pointed out that his fund made $600 million in profits through 2003. (A hedge-fund manager couldn’t help himself�bumbling CEOs ought to know who really makes the money!) That’s $120 million for bonuses, the bulk of it for Loeb. So far this year, his fund is up almost 20 percent. If gains hold, that’s about $60 million for Loeb to distribute, mostly to himself.


Of course, investment-banking money is nothing to sneeze at. And yet, a very presentable net worth of $10 million, $20 million, or even $50 million, sadly, leaves one flying commercial. Hedge-fund money, by contrast, can put you into exhilarating conversations about the advantages of owning a Gulfstream versus a Falcon. There are other distinctions. Like the ability, as a possessor of hedge-fund wealth, to truly appreciate art, especially brand-name art. A net worth of $50 million is not going to get you your pick of Impressionist art. Says one art consultant who guides hedge-fund managers, �If one year they make a lot of money, they’ll spend $50 million [on art].� There’s your Picasso.


Spend hedge-fund money on art and you might get a listing as one of the top ten art collectors in the world, which was how Steven A. Cohen, manager of SAC Capital (take last year: $350 million), was identified by ArtNews, in part for his Picasso and his Van Gogh.


Not everyone is into art. George Hall�his hedge fund is the Clinton Group�went another direction. He bought a megayacht. It’s 115 feet long. For a time he kept it at Chelsea Piers. Parking cost $12,000 a month, but then it was so handy if, say, he wanted to throw an impromptu dinner for 80, which he occasionally did. Or maybe cruise to the private island Paul Tudor Jones II (last year’s income: $300 million) owns in the Bahamas.


Real estate is another hedge-fund collectible. It may be true, as one manager asserted, that hedge funds relaunched New York’s superluxury market, which is $10 million and up. �And they pay cash!� exclaimed one Realtor. As if one needed another example of who the top dog is now, hedge-fund manager James Dinan snapped up the apartment of fallen Tyco CEO Dennis Kozlowski, paying $21 million. Loeb made his real-estate splurge in East Hampton, buying a house on two and a half acres big enough to be nicknamed the �TWA terminal.� He paid $15 million, for which he got pools�indoors it’s a wave pool, outdoors it’s a 75-foot lap pool�and 125 feet of beachfront.


Still, the most impressive purchase was probably that Time Warner pied-à-terre that David Martinez, manager of Fintech, snapped up. He paid $45 million and�this was the galling part�considered it a complete fixer-upper. Martinez expects to put $10 million to $15 million into the redesign, which includes the cost to create a seascape look from rare blue stones, but not of furniture.

Every hedge-fund manager talks of the risk-reward ratio. The reward was that you’d be the richest cat on Wall Street. The risk, on the other hand, was bottomless. And recently, the risk has been growing. �It feels like a top,� said one manager. Meaning, possibly, there’s nowhere to go but down. And down can be a long way.


�Let me take you into my hell,� says David Marcus.


Like many hedge-fund managers, Marcus began trading early. At 13, he sank his bar mitzvah money into the market. In college, he played options between classes, using advances against student loans. After college, Marcus went to work for mutual-fund king Michael Price. Eventually, he managed a $1 billion European fund for Price’s Franklin Mutual. �I discovered Sweden,� says Marcus. �I’d never seen stocks so cheap.�


As portfolio manager, Marcus had a ball. Swedes are polite, well behaved. In a jaunty tone, Marcus said whatever he wanted. One chairman, he noted, was �a bag of hot air.� Why shouldn’t he? In 1999, Marcus’s fund returned 47 percent. Barron’s labeled him a �European-stock ace.�


After Price sold the company, to Marcus’s mind, the new owners didn’t treat him like an ace. He earned over $1 million a year, much of it, though, in deferred compensation. Plus, he considered the alternative. If he’d been ahead 47 percent while running a $1 billion hedge fund, he’d have earned close to $90 million. I’d never have to work again, he thought.


So Marcus started a hedge fund. Perhaps the most challenging task for new hedge-fund managers is raising money. With money pouring in, though, the manager with good results may have the upper hand. �We have a manager that is no longer willing to wear shoes at investor meetings,� says Robert Schulman, CEO of Tremont Capital, which invests in hedge funds. Marcus raised $400 million in khaki pants and blue button-down shirts�that’s all he owns. He launched MarcStone (from Marcus and Flintstone) in 2000.


Marcus took big positions in several solid companies�he particularly liked a French construction company. Overall, though, he believed Europe was in for a tumble. He bet most of his money on a declining market. In his view, European telecommunication companies�in particular Marconi, which is British�were overpriced; some, Marcus believed, ought to be worth a big fat zero. He bet on them to go down, selling big short positions.


To sell short, you borrow the stock, sell it, and then later buy it back when, if all goes according to plan, the price is lower. Hedge funds claim they can make money whether the market is up or down. The short is why. Jim Chanos, who runs Kynikos Associates, shorted Enron at about 60. Others lost their shirts; Chanos rode it into the single digits, making money all the way.


The real trick, though, is the paired trade. To believe strongly in one thing and strongly against another, and have those things counterbalance, is a kind of hedgie bliss. It is what permits the manager to tell investors that he can hedge out the risk, which sounds magical and mostly isn’t true. As one extremely successful manager says, �I don’t know how you can really make money if you’re not willing to lose money.�


Still, at one point tourists made paired trading easy. The public, for instance, pushed the IPO for Palm through the roof, not noticing that its parent company, 3Com, owned 94 percent of Palm. Hedge managers bought 3Com and shorted Palm. Much of the risk was hedged out�by owning 3Com, you had a huge stake in Palm’s upside, and by shorting Palm, you also owned its downside. �We made a fortune on Palm,� says one manager.


Marcus didn’t have much experience with shorts. Mutual funds don’t short. If the market declines, they head to the sidelines�if they can lumber out of the way. �They’re fighting with one hand tied behind their backs,� says Carvin. Maybe so. But Marcus had done pretty well without shorts. As a hedge-fund manager, he spent lots of time worrying whether he’d calculated the hedge right.


Marcus figured that shorting the telecoms, hair-trigger stocks that should exaggerate market movements, would hedge against a collapse in his long positions, his buys. They should, if things worked right, crash faster than the broad market.


At hedge funds, market news comes at you constantly. They all watch CNBC all day. With TV commentators dizzily rattling off losses, a hedgie who bucks the market and makes money feels close to indomitable. �You’re a genius, you’ve got a big dick, you’re a superstar,� explains Carvin. For Marcus, March 2001 was a genius month, his best ever. Marconi was cut in half.


Over the years, Marcus’s weight had bulged. He was a Krispy Kreme guy. As a hedge manager, he’d broken 250 pounds. At five ten, he was by his own estimation a �fat pig.� Still, what a month! Marcus had a doughnut, and added to his short positions.
The spiral, sometimes called the death spiral, is what every hedge-fund manager fears. What’s striking is how innocuously it begins.


On April 18, 2001, in an unscheduled move, the Federal Reserve cut interest rates by a half-point. Stocks around the world shot up.


In one day, Marconi was up 9 percent, and it, Marcus reminded himself, was a piece of crap. Within a short time, his shorts had gone in his face, 25, 30 percent. Marcus’s long positions might have bailed him out by shooting up as well. Instead, they idled on their butts. �I made a basic hedge-fund mistake,� Marcus says glumly. The market took revenge, squeezing his shorts. By April 2001, Marcus was down 15 percent, close to $65 million.


Hedge-fund managers make investors a promise: I won’t take a bonus again until I earn back your losses. Many believe an unestablished fund simply can’t have a negative year. �One down year and you’re gone�poof�screwed,� says Carvin. Investors will hit the fax, redeem their money. One group of Marcus’s investors redeemed $45 million.


Once investors make for the exits, the death spiral accelerates. To return their cash, you have to sell into a market that’s against you, which further erodes your returns. Losing a lot of money is a crucible, and not just for the fund. As one manager said, �My very worth as a human being depended on my continually making money.� Confidence is a threshold-sensitive state. Cross the line, you might not return. Carvin knew two guys who, after big losses, were afraid to pull the trigger.


Marcus has four children. At home in New Jersey, he didn’t mention his losses��It wasn’t my family’s fault,� he reasoned. Still, he couldn’t bear it when he saw his wife flipping through a catalogue. �Why are you buying all that stuff?� he snapped. She couldn’t understand. She was spending $50. �It was the worst period of my life,� he says.


Marcus felt fogged by his $60 million loss. He got up earlier and earlier. At home he’d usually plug into his computer from about 10 to midnight�trading is a kind of addiction. (At a yoga retreat in India, Loeb had a high-speed Internet connection installed.) When the market went in his face, Marcus decided he had to trade the opening�the opening in Europe. He was at his desk in the Citicorp building at 4 A.M.


Most of the market, needless to say, was elated by the run-up. CNBC seemed giddy, relentlessly so. Marcus watched the Cartoon Network. He thought of a hedge friend down 9 percent. In a week, he’d have to report to investors. �He swung for the fences,� says Marcus. It worked. This friend finished the year up 7 percent. Marcus couldn’t bring himself to risk his investors’ capital that way.


�I needed to stop,� he says. �You can’t think when you’re fucked up like that.� Marcus went to all-cash. Between losses and redemptions, his $400 million fund was soon worth $180 million. A few months later, the telecoms Marcus so disliked had fallen to almost zero. If only he’d been able to hold on or, he sometimes thought, go on vacation. A friend called: �How does it feel to be 100 percent right and 100 percent wrong?�


I want to kill you, Marcus thought.


Marcus couldn’t bear his results. He was a European ace. He vowed to come back. (And now, two years later, he’s lost 45 pounds, and has a new hedge fund, running $100 million. Hardly any shorts. He’s up 22 percent. Which is why the hedge-fund moment may be nowhere near its top.) But back then, he’d had to face it, come to grips with his own limitations. The risk was too scary. He closed the fund. �I tried hedge fund, and it didn’t work,� Marcus said soberly. �I’m a plain vanilla.�

Out of CCL for now at my stop made 1.3%

also in BRO @ 25.95 and DEI @ 20.32

AIZ JOYG

AIZ looking good @ 38.84 .. stop at 38.40 max downside 1.1%,.. target 41.00 ..  5.5% upside.. also i like JOYG here at 89.80

think positive

its funny how when you want something so bad, if you keep seeing it in your head and believing in it so much.. it will happen!  and thats anything you could ever want.

- Ask , Believe, and you shall Receive!!! - Tommy P.

Also, check out @wallstbully for interesting thoughts on more money making ideas.
http://tradeforexcash.blogspot.com/

5 16 11 - Update on my Picks from last week.. enjoy!

@wall_st_broker
AS OF MAY 16th 2011 @10:37am

Top Picks for this week as of Fridays close (May 6, 2011)..

Symbol / Price paid / % Change / Stop loss.

BYD... 9.51 ... 5% UP ... 9.41 GTC
CCL ... 39.76 ... 3% UP ... 40.30 GTC
SVM... 10.86 ... 3% DOWN ... no stop (watching closely)
AMR... 6.41 ... 5% UP ... 6.28 GTC (Crude Oil Hedge Trade)

Today 5 11 11 my lucky day

Okay today is Wednesday, May 11th 2011.. what is with this 11 11 following me around all day everyday? I suppose its going to be my lucky day. Therefore, i created this blogspot thing for the first time.

What's so special about today?
- My favorite silver mining stock is due to report earnings after the close today. (fingers crossed)
- I found out about a new drink that my boy @WALLSTBULLY put me on. (cant tell you about it lol)
- Silver (Commodity) giving back 7-8% from yesterdays close.

Problem here?  I'm long SILVER.

My Thoughts..

I've been long silver for quiet some time since it was hovering around 37-39/oz. After the capture of Osama the commodities markets obviously plummeted. For the simple reason the USD took off the lows. Since Oil, Gold, Silver etc.. trades in US funds it will have an inverse relationship to the trading of the us dollar. Bin Laden cost us 3 trillion dollars in the past 15 years obviously the so called capture is good for the economy due to the cease of costs in the spending to find him. There were talks on who will recieve the 50 million dollar hit on him and now they are saying that there is no need because the CIA and the Navy Seals were doing their job they are not entitled for the reward, which i think is total BS.
Anyway's, I feel the strong and steep correction in Silver and Oil is imperative for a huge retracement. Silver was up over 18% since the low on the 6th of May to give back over 8.73% as of now being up a little over 9% since the low. Since the CME raised margin requirements on Silver (4) (FOUR) (four) (4) times in the past week.. it all shows me that the SILVER demand cant be supplied with the sellers forcing their bids higher to keep the bubble going..

Bottom line, I'm long silver and i like certain stocks that mine based out of Canada..

Stay put for more news and insights...

Top Picks for this week as of Fridays close.. even though its Wednesday..

BYD.. 9.51
CCL .. 39.76
SVM... 10.86 (added today)
AMR.. 6.41