Another rant about another politician (when will I ever learn!)
Truthfully. I really don’t care much whatever they get up to as long as it doesn’t affect me directly. But recently it did. Their incompetence cost me money. Didn’t cost me much but still irritating when those elected simply aren’t fit for purpose yet strut about full of their own importance. Nothing new there though, and normally I’d let it go. Can’t be bothered. However, I’m moved to comment because as I write, I see there’s a bit of a kerfuffle going on, Seems they think Cable (my current bête noir) has been trying to engineer some sort of Lib Dem leadership coup against Clegg. He’s denied it of course, so obviously it can’t be true (Duh!)
What a world these politicians live in. What a cesspit ‘eh. All of ‘em smiling at each other face to face, showing loads of support, and all of ‘em looking over their shoulders waiting for their friends to stab ‘em in the back. And it’s not if, it’s when.
Anyone that reads my stuff on here will surely by now have got the impression, and rightly so, that I have no time for politicians. None. No time, no respect, nothing. You may have read my piece on Blair. My contempt for him still keeps me warm on cold winter’s nights but there are others. Almost all of them in fact, but most of them don’t matter. Inconsequential people. But occasionally one of the other slimy little fuckers will poke their ugly little heads over the parapet. Like The Right Honourable Vince Cable MP did recently. Again.
Not so very long ago, Vince Cable was suddenly elevated to some sort of financial expert, a guru. Yes, that Vince Cable. Why? Because he predicted the financial meltdown in 2007/8. Well done, Vince. But, without wanting to cast a cloud over his genius, I have to say that every day, someone somewhere is making financial predictions. And the bigger the better if you want to get noticed. As a for instance… the Euro was going to collapse ergo the Euro – zone would fall. And most of us would die. Then someone said there would be a double dip recession, no, wait, make that a triple dip recession. And those that hadn’t already died would certainly die this time round. And only a couple of months ago they said that America wouldn’t be able to avoid falling off the ‘financial cliff’. And all Americans would die.
But anyway, and let’s be fair, Vince got one right. And our wonderful press hailed him, and because most of the sheep in this country believe what they read, suddenly he’s seen as a guru, someone in Westminster who actually knows what he’s talking about. So, come the Coalition, Vince was installed as Secretary of State for business, and ‘we’ all breathed a sigh of relief in the certainty that we wouldn’t suffer any more nasty financial problems ever again. Yaaay. Good old Vince. His star was shining so brightly that he became a bit of a poster boy for the Coalition and they gave him lots of other responsibilities in his portfolio.
And Vince, flushed with his new – found importance made the same mistake most of ‘em do, and thought that somehow his intelligence had suddenly grown to match the importance of his role, and began to deal with stuff out of his depth.
Unfortunately within five minutes he thought he could take on Rupert Murdoch. He told the world he was at war with the Murdoch Corporation. Wrong Vince, wrong!
His inappropriate comments, his big mouth and his hubris resulted in humiliation and his responsibility for media, digital, tele – comms etc, were stripped from him by Dave and Nick. Had he been a Tory, he’d have been booted all the way back down to the back benches, but because he was Lib Dem, it was seen as politically right to keep him in the Coalition cabinet.
So, you get the picture? The man’s guess on the financial situation comes right. He’s promoted to a job he should never have been given. He makes a number of gaffes and is plainly out of his depth, but he’s still left responsibility for some important matters, one of them being the responsibility for overseeing the recent Royal Mail IPO. And this is where our paths collide.
Why? Because, like thousands of others, I had the audacity to apply for more than £10,000’s worth of shares in his Royal Mail sell off.
And for that he calls us, the thousands of us that wanted to buy ‘extra’ shares, spivs.
So what did I do wrong? Why does he call me a spiv? I’m just your average guy with a couple of quid’s worth of savings, who for the past six years has been looking for somewhere to put it. Somewhere long term, where it might be safe and gather a decent return. I’ll remind him that thousands of us are finding a pitiful 1% savings interest rates isn’t much use when inflation is two/ three times that, thanks to him and his ilk.
So now, he comes along selling off the family silver in the shape of the Royal Mail IPO. But for it to be a success he needs long-term investors and he plans to reward them with perhaps 6% – 7% yields. At last, I think, it’s almost been worth the wait. (Not really but after 6 years of being raped by the Bank’s interest rates, I’m punch drunk by now!) “Here I am Vince,” I cry and I apply for lots of shares, as many as I can afford. Why wouldn’t I? It’s been six years I remind you.
At one point, when they weren’t sure how successful the float would be, he was desperate for the likes of me; there was no talk of ‘spivs’ then. Oh no, quite the reverse. Had this looked to be going badly, he’d have been off around the City with his begging bowl chatting up the ‘spivs’ to help him out.
But no. It goes well. Too well. Arguably so well it’s embarrassing. But that’s another story. He gets the forecast price wrong. Badly wrong. And whatever he tells you, he has. So much so it was seven times oversubscribed? Excuse me? Seven times?
He prices the shares at £3.30…they open at way over £4, and finish the first day at £4.55… they have hit over £6 since. You had one job Vince, one job.
But in his slimy way with words he blames a situation of his own making, on us, the investors, for rushing for shares. He gets the price badly wrong, we apply, ergo we are greedy ‘spivs.’ Geddit? Call me ambitious, over ambitious, perhaps optimistic. But I’m not a spiv.
Not nice Vince. Not nice at all.
But don’t you worry Vincey boy, we’ll get by without your help. We have to. Meanwhile if it all goes pear shaped my son, I can always lay me hands on a few RBS shares if you’re interested? Cheap?