
Buy Blood, Sell Choirs: Market Timing Strategy for Traders Who Prefer Rules to Headlines
Oct 31, 2025
The first sin is imitation. Most people don’t buy what they understand; they buy what looks admired. They call it research to soothe the shame. Markets aren’t mirrors; they’re battlefields. If you march in wearing someone else’s armour, you drop on the first volley. A real timing strategy begins before price—inside your temperament, against your envy, with rules that guard your pulse from the feed.
We had a subscriber who did nothing flashy. Four years, no drama—just a metals build: 50% gold, silver, palladium; 30% other commodities; 20% side plays. No borrowed money, no panic, no dopamine from strangers. Every dip, another brick. He expanded with profit, not fresh capital. Now he sits in a fortress because he respected rhythm over fireworks. That’s a timing strategy in slow motion: compounding measured choices until it looks like luck.
Stillness Before the Storm
Crashes change costume; panic keeps the same face. 1987: −22% in a day, then a doubling within two years. 2008–2009: banks convulsed, “Depression” on every channel, yet early 2009 buyers compounded several times over. 2010’s flash crash: minutes of lunacy, a buffet for the prepared. 2020: −35% in a month, then the fastest recovery on record. If you zoom out on the S&P 500 from 1987 to 2025, it’s a staircase built by a drunk god—every fall a step, every step a new floor. A good timing strategy assumes terror will return, and pre‑writes what to do when it does.
On 7 May, our “Mother of All Buy” trigger fired—designed for moments when emotion outruns logic. From that date, the S&P 500 climbed about 12%, the Nasdaq 100 more than 15%, and the Composite over 16% in USD terms. In April, the VIX spiked and faded—fear flashed, never caught; no top‑side euphoria. Pullbacks were buys because the crowd wasn’t manic while the trend was up. That’s the point: a timing strategy with receipts beats headlines with adjectives.
State, Not Story: The Five Dials
Stories explain; dials decide. Build a small panel you can read in thirty seconds.
• Breadth: how many names are carrying the move? A thrust—80% advancers on rising volume—earns risk. New highs narrowing while the index rises is hollow ground.
• Credit: high‑yield spreads tightening says healing; widening says strain. Bondholders are paid to be paranoid. Listen to them.
• Real yields + USD: direction and pace matter more than levels. Rising together compress long‑duration cash flows; easing together loosens the noose.
• Volatility term structure: inverted curve into “good news” is fragile; re‑steepening into “bad news” is digestion.
• Leadership: who holds gains on red days? Cyclicals and quality doing the work beats one theme dragging the carcass.
Rule of three: act when three or more align. If they quarrel, you wait. Waiting is a position.
Operating Discipline: Keep Your Edge on a Short Leash
Emotion gate: before any order, rate your state from one to five. Above three—fear, shame, euphoria—you do nothing. Take ninety seconds, box‑breathe 4–4–4–4, drop your shoulders, widen your gaze, re‑rate. If you still want it, place it small. Two execution windows: mid‑morning and mid‑afternoon. Outside those, you study or walk. Time is risk; narrow it.
Premortem: “It’s 12 months later. I failed because…” Write size drift, story drift, liquidity, ego, correlation. Add counters now. Post‑mortem (two minutes): rule adherence, size versus plan, five‑dial state, emotion score, “place again as written?” If no, add one rule to stop one repeat error. The best timing strategy is a diary that bites back.
Cash Is Courage, Not Cowardice
In euphoria, cash looks timid. In panic, cash looks god‑like. Treat cash as ammunition, not a verdict on your talent. The hardest trade is waiting, not because you’re idle, but because you’re loaded. Patience is aggression held at a low hum. Bravery looks like foolishness at entry; later it looks like foresight. Your job is to live through the middle bit where everybody laughs.
Every commodity bull invites a ritual burial. “Gold is finished.” We took profits in stretched miners, kept core bullion, set patient bids, and ignored the choir. Under the noise sits a pressure no headline can scrub: geopolitical fracture and a US debt load brushing USD 38 trillion. You can’t print credibility; pressure finds an outlet. The same rhythm holds elsewhere: when the room writes eulogies, you prepare shopping lists. When the room sings hosannas, you rehearse exits.
Unanimity is an exit. Fragmentation is a silence. Our sentiment system runs on fifteen inputs and only speaks above 80. When half the loud crowd screams “sell” and half screams “higher,” it hovers near zero. No coherence, no edge. That’s a timing strategy most won’t tolerate: hold your fire until heat becomes light. A sharp shakeout that feels like a crash often blooms from high—but not manic—complacency paired with split conviction. It punishes emotion, not positioning.
When to Buy, When to Sell, When to Wait
Buy when three dials align and your state is calm; when spreads ease as breadth thrusts; when the vol curve stops screaming panic; when leadership broadens on down days. Sell when new highs narrow into a rising index; when spreads widen 50 bps against the 20‑day; when the curve inverts into “good news”; when the room sings in unison. Wait when the panel argues; when your emotion gate reads hot; when the “why now?” only makes sense with an audience. A timing strategy is a fence. You act when the market climbs over it.
Blueprint (One Page, No Poetry)
1) Know yourself: rate your nerves, define max drawdown you can sleep with. 2) Define your range: position size by risk, not hope; expand with profit, not fresh cash. 3) Track cycles: keep a crash diary—what fear felt like, what worked. 4) Stay liquid in euphoria: cash is oxygen; run low on it and every dip becomes a threat. 5) Wait for blood: pre‑build buy lists with levels; when it hits, you don’t think—you execute. 6) Two windows: mid‑AM, mid‑PM. 7) Rule of three: act on three aligned dials. 8) Journals: premortem before, post‑mortem after. Every trade teaches or taxes—make it teach.
Greed is a carnival; fear is its hangover. Rabelais would have recognised the sacred ridiculousness: analysts squeezing jargon from empty air, managers swollen with certainty, traders eating rumour like fairground meat. Through the grotesque, the market purifies. It vomits excess, keeps what nourishes, and walks on. That’s why charts work: they are not maths; they are mood. A timing strategy is how you keep a plate while the table tilts.
The Final Loop
We began with imitation and envy; we end with rhythm and rules. Headlines will keep shouting because they’re paid to. Your P&L listens to quieter instruments: how often you bought when three dials sang together; how often you waited when they didn’t; how rarely you acted to impress a stranger. Hold this sentence: the story isn’t the signal—it’s the test. Treat it that way, and your timing strategy becomes a structure you can trust. When blood runs, you’ll buy without theatre. When choirs sing, you’ll sell without apology. The room won’t understand. It doesn’t have to. Your edge lives in the gap between noise and obedience.










