Paper holiday cards are becoming a rarity in these days of e-greeting cards, but rarer still is a card bearing an original poem about hedge funds.
Given the wacky jungle scene on the front of The Signet Group's holiday card, which features all of its employees, it's clear the London-based hedge funds-of-funds company doesn't take itself too seriously. And that's probably the only sort of company that could pen a poem quite so descriptive of the strange world of hedge fund investing.
Here's the 11-stanza work.
Ode (Owed) to Hedge Funds
A black swan stretches, ready to stride,
But today he's lunch for the hedge fund lion pride.
A brown bear is startled. Too, ready to play.
Now he's carrion, Signet fund-of-fund's vulture fund's prey.
And over our shoulders they rant, rend their clothes.
And extrapolate losses and cultivate woes.
And run from those places where ‘longs' fear to tread,
Just at the moment when ‘repair' is ahead.
‘Should we run in circles, should we hide?' ‘vestors cry,
‘The world is not happy, and neither am I!'
‘There's fear in the jungle. Rates whimper in dread!'
‘Debts lie broken; growth's lost its head!'
It's angst, sleepless nights; deep jungle feared most,
Where PIGS lie fattened and primed for the roast,
Where politiko-birds puff up their breasts,
And boa-regulators squeeze life from the rest.
(And casting a dart in a lazy great arc,
A long-only monkey-fund misses its mark.)
But you've not a worry; you're with fearless HEDGED guides,
Who know where to look, yet know when to hide.
In the jungle is treasure, and with them by your side,
You'll search in dark places, and here's what you'll find.
(First, wisdom's in parable, and conundrums abound,
So listen with open mind and make judgment sound.
Then gold shall be shining where value's been shed,
Alpha seeking hedge funds look where others have fled!)
But how can they say this? What crystal ball read?
Where is the treasure the hedge funds have said?
In the Darkest of Jungle, from caves into light,
Come, blinking, cheap values from misunderstood plight,
And massaged by low rates and slow growth and the clock,
There're fixings and mixings with coupons and stock.
And in Eastern Jungle, there's another place you'll go.
Where the world is growing and vibrant; gung ho.
And the tigers there roar from their ‘merging mount,
Flush with loose dosh from Ben's helico' fount.
And in Far, Far Distant Jungle, there's a place that they say,
Is called ‘Brave New World'. Signet'll take you some day.
Yes, our lot, we all smile. We've been there before:
a place where bears growl but where hedge funds – they roar!