Who works the shadows
Tracing the corporate mafia leaks to their factional roots.
I’m working through some old files and obviously the corporate mafia saga still sticks out like a sore thumb.
One of the things some of us newsletter writers or one-man shows have to do is generally work the ground.
That’s just a fancy way of saying we have coffee or lunch with sources.
Because sooner or later we’ll need to close the gap, and if we don’t, we regress to merely being influencers, which is not too bad in this day and age.
I was ranting with a few friends of how the influencer economy works.
That is, instead of doing proper media campaigns, even government agencies will throw easy money to a sleazy influencer, as long as the positive messaging gets out.
And we wonder whether or not these government agencies know any better because influencers also farm anonymous accounts to manufacture (the right word here) engagement.
I mean it’s bad both ways: if the agency doesn’t know about farming, then they are not doing their homework and if they do, then that’s throwing good money after bad.
At minimum, an Instagram or TikTok video touting how great a government policy is can fetch roughly RM20,000.
That’s the floor. Not bad, isn’t it? I am in the wrong business, surely.
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So one of the things I’ve managed to narrow down, with some elbow grease and coincidence (truly), is the source of Bloomberg’s first piece on then MACC chief Azam Baki’s ownership of a tiny stake in Bursa-listed lender Velocity Capital Partners.
This was the beginning of what we see as a mainstream discussion on the corporate mafia saga.