trading recap

Glued to the tube. In celebration. Go NY Giants! Naturally, I’m a fair weather fan. Love my Yankees too, yeah, just so long as they win the World Series. Spend a career buying/selling, longing/shorting, loving/hating the same mkts, over and over, in equal measure, and well, you lose the taste for loyalty. Anyhow, what a game! The Patriots never stood a chance. Of course, patriots rarely do. But they put up a good fig

Hey, you see the clip? NASA blasted a satellite. To The Dark Side of the Moon. So I fired up Pink Floyd. Cranked to 11. Of course, that album sounds far better now than in ’73. Digitized. Streamed. Wireless. Yeah, Fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way, and OMFG, technology just races away. It’s Man’s only possible salvation – our way out of this mess, onto a bigger one, and so on, forever. But Roger Wat

World’s most powerful leader stood. Stated his case. To our Union. The den of thieves rose and fell. Clapping on cue. Camera’s captured Generals in proud, non-partisan support. Beamed the message. Around the globe. To friends. Competitors. Enemies too. Wonder what they think about it all? You know, Obama announced he’s ending two wars. Gonna use those savings, cut deficits, nation-build. Here at home. Upgrade infrast

Poor little Indian. Low man on the totem pole. “Just punch those new ratings into the spreadsheet and go home,” ordered his chief. At Standard & Poor’s. The young scout entered 9 EU downgrades into Excel – France, Austria, usual suspects too. “How?” he grunted, as a “Circular Reference” error flashed on his EFSF AAA ratings tab. So he sent a smoke signal. And his chiefs rushed back – for pow wow, and pipe. Yeah,

Sharpen your pencils boys. Knives too. The pie is shrinking. Gotta steal market share. Make some money here, save a little there. And if all else fails, well, screw your competitors – that’s good fun. Anyhow, Obama’s downsizing the Pentagon. Pulled the boys outta Iraq too. You see, he’s found a cheaper way to herd those bearded cats: who needs a Battalion when you can send one scooter-riding assassin to deliver plast

Hope all goes well. Teddy (6) just couldn’t decide, “A real live Red‐Tail Hawk, or a real magic wand that can turn real trees into real coconuts.” Olivia (8) announced all she wants from Santa is, “To end all wars forever.” Jackson (10), without the slightest hesitation, replied in a demeaning bark, “Well then there’d be too many people.” Which naturally started a war. Charlie (2) cried without quite knowing why. I r

The commander maneuvered. Imprisoned the opposition. Rigged elections. Tightened the grip. Stamped his boot on a human face. But a few brave souls said no. Sparked an uprising. It’s the oldest story ever told. This time in Russia. So it’ll play out in fascinating, mysterious ways. Take the rise of Mikhail Prokhorov as opposition candidate. He’s worth $18bln, 3rd wealthiest oligarch, owns New Jersey’s Nets. So why ris

See the video? Unreal. American stealth drone. Looked like a UFO. Musta got lost. And found. In Iran. Yeah, some Persian dude landed it. Seriously. How? Code bro: One and Zero. It’s the future ya know. Only way to go. ’Cause let’s face it, no matter how much dizzy yellow‐cake we stack on rockets, no one’s ever launching one. Nope. These days it’s hack, crack, attack. And like all of man’s great weapons, before long,

5‐4‐3‐2‐1. Ignition. Blast off. Yeah, NASA launched a rocket. Bound for Mars. Carrying a rover. Named Curiosity. Aren’t we just. From that very first bite of the apple. Curious. And while our scientists voyage afar, to explore the cosmos, and the quantum, we’re left to our shrinking Newtonian planet. Dropping things on each other. Lifting too. Pushing weight around. Desperate to stay one step ahead in Sir Isaac’s fav