Disclaimer: What I may say here is how I see things as is. The House of Z is filled with mystery simply because very few gains access to such a restricted world, yet every body wants their secrets. There are rumours surrounding every one’s personality, capability, and true identity. What I know is simply one version of the truth.
Mad laughter. That’s how I see them from afar. Mad laughter while they parade with their gains and how they reign superior. It was but normal to feel a little hatred. Hatred towards their mad laughter as they mock me with their capabilities.
Now that I have a closer look, I have sooner realized that the laughter wasn’t that of mocking.
It was the sound of people who knew how to play the game.
And have fun dominating it.
What type of people would willingly beg for and fight for a slot to be taught by someone they have not seen or have not met?
They can only be the very desperate. This is where it all starts. It starts with the reek of desperate fighters. Those who are willing to give it one last chance, at any price necessary.
Once you understand this level of need will you finally understand who these people are, and why the most broken becomes one of the very best.
Every one starts already humbled by the market. The biggest challenge is asking them to forget. Those who can not control their emotions beyond their losses are put on hold. Those who can not forget are asked to regain control of their life elsewhere.
And then, the process begins. Tabula Rasa.
A Cup of Tea
Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.
Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor’s cup full, and then kept on pouring.
The professor watched the overflow until he no longer could restrain himself. “It is overfull. No more will go in!”
“Like this cup,” Nan-in said, “you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?”
They had to learn how to be unemotional as fast as they can, because the moment they sign in, even before they regain what they lost… the house member finds out that he needs to give.
Give even before his hands are holding anything for himself.
His subasta are for charity drives. He is asked to promise to pay back the universe what has been given to him– food on his table, roof over his head, family sleeping quietly next to him.
For simply being the 1% who understood the market, and for what is to come.
Money is no longer what money meant to The Core as it used to be. Money used to subtly mean the things you desire to have.
Money is now a way of keeping score. It’s now a game they efficiently play. In and out, gain and lose, again and again and again. Who made the most money? Who was the best player in this bloody war?
That’s where the maniacal laughter I heard before came from.
I didn’t understand it because their money meant differently to me. Their gains meant my stupidity and foolishness, that’s why I was hurt. But to them, it’s just a way of keeping score. Who made more? Who made more?
And again and again, the more they gain, the more they gave away. That must be why they kept getting more.
The ZFT or what I fondly call the Members of the House are ladies and gentlemen, skilled, capable, unemotional.
They hide behind masks to remain in control. They show you what they can do without you judging who they are, where they came from, or what they intend to do. It’s another way of decentering the stock market from the trader. With their mask, all we could measure them from is their skills. We are limited to that perspective.
And that’s how it really must be. After all, does it matter what else they are if they can show you results?
Would it matter if the member of the house is 15 or 50? Man or woman?
It does not.
Maybe we tend to find them unreal because their capabilities are unreal. I had to swallow my ego to accept the truth: Just because I couldn’t do it, that doesn’t mean some else can not.
They were trained to survive as brothers but hunt as lonewolves. If someone in the group made a mistake, every body had to re-train.
They must not bring home the same kill.
Finally allowed out in the real world, the ZFT members do not attack as a syndicate. Each and every one has their own play but they bring home what lesson they learned.
The system, therefore, is not a cookie cutter rule book that either fits or does not. It grows like a child as every member of The House continues to contribute, nurture, better it and eventually perfect it according to their needs.
Zee received a letter that day. He was already in the middle of an overwhelming schedule and had felt the need to ‘escape’ a few times now. It was probably one of the saddest letter he had, and he was torn.
The man had lost 4/5 of his capital in trading and was unfortunately diagnosed with an illness too early to come for his age.
Zee wanted to help but he knew he was up against the odds of a man who fought within himself. “What would you do?”, he asked the rest of The House.
Someone volunteered that he would teach him some basic lessons– around 2 to be precise, another insisted 2 lessons was not be enough and The House must make measures to reach more people, someone stepped in and said they must focus on his emotions and support system first as the man had sounded depleted and depressed, another member answered that he could be mentored from afar but not as a part of The House. The reactions were all sympathetic. They’ve seen this before, they could have been at that stage as well.
Finally, a member of The Core group spoke and said that this man’s problem is not in his knowledge but in his execution. The problem was the mindset. The Captain, in my opinion, was right.
From what I’ve heard from the Master of The House, the Captain has one of the sharpest minds and could easily see between the lines.
There were no more replies after that and in a few days, Zee posted what had happened of the man.
He was merrily on his way to emotional recovery with his lovely wife’s support.
I have no doubts that this man will make it. I await his inevitable success.
During one of the slow days in the market, one of the Core remarked to The House to buy a stock. He was on his usual troll mode. That’s the thing, you never really know with these people. Even their identity towards one another was a secret.
Nobody responded and he started laughing like a madman. Another member laughed back at him, “ZFT are immune to hypes.”
That stock flew a few days later but I can’t be certain if other ZFT members were able to ride.
That’s how it goes. Not your playbook, not your play. Which is fine, because I’m pretty sure the other members of The House are out making a killing elsewhere.
They belong to the same pack but they hunt alone. The ZFT will protect its own. When a young one makes a mistake, expect The House to not tolerate. They will punish him and deal with him but every victory will be celebrated in double.
This part I dedicate to S: He who found a threat to my identity but made immediate measures to keep me protected. I am grateful. You are also the reason I named my blog this way. After my first writing, you shared it and said, “We’re all rooting for you.”
You can not fool the mask. You can not catch the ghost behind it. If you must believe that they are all the same people, then you may.
The House of Z is, after all, of one soul.
I bow down to the masters of the trade.