I hire a woman from Zurich called Miranda who specialises in finding underrated material and acquiring a corner on it, and she buys me almost the entire collection of some ageing rocker in London who’s fallen on hard times owing to a divorce. This includes a great quantity of South American folk art—and what she tells me are some extremely rare and undervalued duodecimal quipus, which I might actually find interesting—along with the best of some new work by a man named Berihun Bekele who painted flying saucer pop art in the 1970s. I have to assume she knows what she is doing. A few days later, there’s a splash piece in the New York Times about the man. He evidently got his mojo back working on a new computer game that everyone is supremely excited about. Note to self: get it. But also: doff the cap to Miranda, because the price of Bekele’s work has just added a few zeros. The nerds of Silicon Valley have gone nuts for his stuff.