~ gabriella giudici

The Song of The Meal è cantata dai broker Mark Hannah e Jordan Belfort durante il pranzo del primo giorno di lavoro di Belfort a Wall Street, una scena di The Wolf of Wall Street (magistralmente interpretata da Matthew McConaughey) realizzato da Martin Scorzese nel 2013 dall’autobiografia di Jordan Belfort.

Il nome di questo autentico canto tribale del broker viene dall’invito di Hannah al giovane collega “to fuck the client” e “put the meal on the table”.

In questa preziosa testimonianza etnografica dello stile di vita del potere finanziario emerge la consapevolezza di esistere per frodare il cliente, di fare soldi per i soldi e di non creare nulla, ma essere agenti della perpetua rivoluzione del fake che Hannah battezza “fugazi“, con i soli alleati di «cocaine» and «sex addictions».

La versione italiana è, eventualmente, qui nel pessimo doppiaggio realizzato, all’originale ho aggiunto i sottotitoli in italiano [cliccare su sottotitoli per avviarli].

Tootski?

Oh, no. Thank you, though.

Mr. Hanna, what can I bring for you on this glorious afternoon?
Well, Hector, here’s the game plan. You’re gonna bring us two Absolut martinis.You know how I like them. Straight up. And then precisely seven and one half minutes after that, you’re gonna bring us two more. Then two more after that every five minutes until one of us passes the fuck out.

Excellent strategy, sir.
I’m good with water for now.
Thank you.

It’s his first day on Wall Street. Give him time.

Thank you.
Thank you.

Mr. Hanna? You’re able to do drugs during the day and then still function, still do your job? How the fuck else would you do this job?
Cocaine and hookers, my friend.
Right.
Well, I got to say, I’m incredibly excited to be a part of your firm. I mean…

The clients you have are absolutely…
Fuck the clients. Your only responsibility is to put meat on the table. You got a girlfriend?
I’m married. I have a wife. Her name is Teresa. She cuts hair.
Congratulations.
Thank you.
Think about Teresa.
Name of the game. Move the money from your client’s pocket into your pocket.
Right.

But if you make your clients money at the same time, it’s advantageous to everyone. Correct?
No. Number one rule of Wall Street. Nobody… I don’t care if you’re Warren Buffett or if you’re Jimmy Buffett. Nobody knows if a stock is gonna go up, down, sideways, or in fucking circles. Least of all stockbrokers, right? It’s all a fugazi. You know what a fugazi is? 

Fugayzi. It’s a fake.

Fugayzi, fugazi, it’s a whazy, it’s a woozy, it’s… Fairy dust. It doesn’t exist. It’s never landed. It is no matter. It’s not on the elemental chart. It’s not fucking real. Right?

Right.

Stay with me. We don’t create shit. We don’t build anything.
No.
So if you got a client who bought stock at eight and it now sits at 16, he’s all fucking happy. He wants to cash in, liquidate, take his fucking money and run home. You don’t let him do that.
Okay.
Cause that would make it real.
Right.

No. What do you do?

You get another brilliant idea. A special idea. Another “situation.” Another stock to reinvest his earnings and then some. And he will, every single time. ‘Cause they’re fucking addicted. And you just keep doing this, again and again and again. Meanwhile, he thinks he’s getting shit rich, which he is, on paper. But you and me, the brokers, we’re taking home cold hard cash via commission, motherfucker.

Right.

That’s incredible, sir. I can’t tell you how excited I am.
You should be.

There’s two keys to success in the broker business. First of all… You gotta stay relaxed.
Yeah.

Do you jerk off?
Do I… Do I jerk off?
Yeah. Yeah, I jerk off. Yeah.
How many times a week?
Like three or four.
Three or four times, maybe five. Gotta pump those numbers up.
Those are rookie numbers in this racket.
I myself, I jerk off at least twice a day.
Wow.
Once in the morning right after I work out, then once right after lunch.
Really?

I want to. That’s not why I do it. I do it ’cause I fucking need to. Think about it. You’re dealing with
numbers. All day long, decimal points, high frequencies. Bang, bang, bang. Fucking digits. All very acidic above-the-houlders mustard shit. All right? It kind of wigs some people out. Right. You got to feed the geese to keep the blood flowing. I keep the rhythm below the belt. Done. This is not a tip, this is a prescription. Trust me. If you don’t, you will fall out of balance, split your differential and tip the fuck over. Or worse yet, I’ve seen this happen, implode.

No, I don’t want to implode, sir.

No. No, you don’t.

I’m in it for the long run, you know?
Implosions are ugly.
Yeah.

Pop off to the bathroom, work one out any time you can. When you get really good at it, you’ll fucking be stroking it and you’ll be thinking about money. Second key to success in this racket is this little baby right here. It’s called cocaine.

Right.

It’ll keep you sharp between the ears. It’ll also help your fingers dial faster. And guess what? That’s good for me. Yes, sir.

Revolutions. You follow?
Revolutions. Keep the clients on the Ferris wheel. And it goes. The park is open 24/24, 7/7, 365/365, every decade, every goddamn century.
That’s it.
The name of the game.
Halkidiki?
Thank you.
Come on.
We’re the common denominator.
Keep it up for me.
You’ve seen the echo
And the money comes in
The parade comes to town
Going down Broadway
It’s a one-way street
Whichever way I go.