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The breeze is talking again. The sea too, whispering something older than the market, more enduring than yield curves. This episode was recorded beneath Saharan skies on the island of St. Barts, during Acid Capitalist Summer Camp 2.0. But what is a camp if not a gathering of searchers. A pause in the trade winds to ask the old questions.

I was met by a journalist. Young, wide-eyed, barefoot. She carried a pencil and the memory of a mixtape. She asked me to speak of fear, folly, volatility and love. I answered not with answers but with exhalation. We spoke of exile, of turtles, of the dull ache of markets remembered and misremembered.

Just like Johnny Rotten sang, "This is Not a Love Song", in 1983, this is not an investment interview, more a moment.

The market is a hallucination. It's also a mirror. I once managed billions. Today, I manage time. There's something here, in this place, that bends the arc of memory. You come to St. Barts to heal, or to vanish. Perhaps both.

There is no grand thesis. Only a few half-remembered charts, a Rolling Stones lyric, and the suspicion that finance was never about spreadsheets but about stories.

This episode is a love letter. To serendipity. To misfits. To the exquisite loneliness of being early.

Draw close to the speaker. Tilt your face toward the trade winds. Pour something cold and forget, for a moment, the noise.

The tape begins...

Hugh Hendry

The Acid Capitalist

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