Cognito - ‘Twas the night before Christmas...
‘Twas two weeks before Christmas, when deep in the City
A [full service] agency sat, trying hard to be witty;
Reflecting on all that had flourished this year,
From CEO sackings to lending peer-to-peer.
The year young Marty McFly, came back to the future,
In which quantitative easing did, well, reasonably feature,
Within two weeks struck strife, for chocolate and clocks,
Sending tumbling briefly, trusty solid Swiss stocks.
As the Easter bunny hopped in, came fines quite colossal,
As the FCA and the Fed began flexing their muscle,
For on the bunny’s bad list, were too many it seemed,
Who in chat rooms of better FX rates had dreamed.
Red cheeked Paddy Ashdown, on national TV
Vowed to gobble his hat, if Lib Dems he did see
Disappear from the House, and go so far amiss,
To be replaced as third party, by a wee dram and haggis[s].
It was only a Blatter of time, when in Zurich in June,
A trail of corruption, from here to the moon
Was uncovered at FIFA; where trouble, it probably means,
For Qataris and all their World Cup hosting dreams.
Libor did for Bob, then St. Tony swooped in
Vowing to clean up the bank and absolve it of sin;
But as this summer rolled on, and board tempers rose,
St. Tony was out - they say he and McFarlane were foes.
What goes up, must go up, the Chinese did show
As the market bounced back, from record breaking lows;
Whilst closer to home – a semi in Hounslow, of all places,
An attic trader got bail, for the flash crash jail term he faces.
In September, a white beard, from the far left it came -
Some say he’s Karl Marx, in all but his name;
He promised that equal, all we must be,
With no nuclear missiles, patrolling our seas.
Is that a rumour we hear - a fed rate rise in Fall?
Don’t get carried away, it’s nothing at all.
It stayed standing still, Janet holding it stable,
But she’ll hike ‘em, you’ll see, just soon as she’s able.
Chancellor George, ‘afore Thanksgiving, did finally speak
“Tax credits will not abandon the poor and the weak”;
He promised the bobbies no more will they lose,
Though buy-to-let landlords are singing the blues.
All eyes are on MiFID, as the year draws to a close,
The extent of delays? Well nobody knows.
GDP forecasts are up, but fixed income looks bleak,
There is widespread hope, though it’s still not quite Greek.
Donald slip into power? From Brussels will we run?
So much could be undone, as the Big Bang - and Top Gun,
The laptop and Bloomberg, all these icons turn thirty -
But one question remains - will Edith wed Bertie?*
*Downton Abbey reference - for you heathens...