Why Insomnia is so Fashionable

Society has a strange flirtation with the condition of insomnia. Unlike other mental illness (such as depression and ADD) which are frequently lauded as exaggerated and imagined, insomnia has a special place in our society. I’ll be the first to admit to claims of insomnia, and I’ve heard many claims too. I now realize why this condition has such a mystique, and why people are so eager to have it.

Insomnia is the thinker’s disease. It is when your thoughts are irreconcilable, and will not wait until tomorrow. It is when you ask a rhetorical question and a voice that is not yours whispers back to you. To have insomnia is to have your demons shout at you no matter how cleverly you’ve hidden them away. It is when you refuse to sleep, knowing that after another dreamless night, there are only grim, bleak, and cold mornings waiting to greet you.

To have insomnia is to be troubled, thoughtful, but vulnerable. What a dark, foreboding, and mysterious attribute; it’s really no wonder why it’s so popular with the young ones. If only I could package and market myself so elegantly.

The 2008 Financial Crisis: When Greed Converges

This was an assignment for my Financial Markets class. If you want to learn about the financial crisis, why it happened, and whats being done to solve it, read on. If you do not understand a word or term or idea, it is probably just technical mumbo jumbo and is unnecessary for understanding the general idea. FI means Financial Institution.

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The 2008 financial crisis was set in motion by the numerous and unexpected meltdowns of financial institutions. This analysis uses this moment as a reference point, and back-tracks until critical failures are identified. The crisis was a result of systematic and widespread fraud and stupidity. Though the Federal Reserve’s efforts limited the harm, the underlying causes were outside their control. The game of finance is deeply broken, and no action can be called a solution unless it aligns financial incentives with the public good.

Collateralized Loan Obligations (CLOs) were the security which collapsed to begin the cascading failures of FIs in 2008. They were a relatively new type of security which packaged and resold mortgages, and were an innovative way to create an instrument to divide the mortgage lending process. They managed risks and payouts associated with loans, which were usually subprime (made to less qualified borrowers). FIs bought thousands of these subprime mortgages and packaged them into CLOs to be resold in the capital markets. These CLOs were intentionally incomprehensible and opaque, so that buyers would not have the ability to truly evaluate their value and risk.

The CLO-selling FIs manipulated the structure of CLOs so that, given rating agencies’ inadequate methods of analyzing risk, the securities would receive the highest rating.  They were treated as diversified investments, even though the constituent parts derived from same sector (subprime mortgage) and were affected by the same forces. The ratings models assumed that housing prices would continue to rise forever. The fact that these FIs were paying ratings agencies for evaluations created additional pressure for the ratings agencies to underestimate these assets’ risk.

Because CLOs were a pool of highly correlated and risky mortgages, there was a heightened demand for loans, which eroded lending practices. Banks soon began lying and giving loans to people did not qualify by falsifying paperwork. They engaged in unsavory lending practices such as “teaser rates.” Neither banks nor CLO-creating FIs cared that the mortgages or resulting CLOs were risky, because they were almost instantly sold off to other entities. These mortgages began to default all at once, which caused the CLOs to plummet in value and to spark the meltdown in 2008.

Many FIs were heavily invested in Collateralized Loan Obligations (CLO). The difficulty of understanding these securities increased the buyers’ reliance on ratings agencies. CLOs were generally understood as absolutely safe assets, and several firms bought high amounts with debt. When mortgages began to fail en masse and the value of CLOs plummetted, many FIs were overly leveraged. The resulting panic also constricted short term credit markets, which hurt both Wall Street and Main Street, causing the financial crisis of 2008.

From this explanation, it seems that the crisis was inevitable. The crisis was a convergence of many economic forces pushing in the wrong direction. Banks made a good profit writing fraudulent loans, and bore no risk because the loans were sold immediately. CLO-creating FIs were making a good sum of money from these deals, and made CLOs more incomprehensible to keep demand high (lest investors realize they’re buying junk). Ratings agencies were paid for AAAs, not to ask questions or to develop more rigorous models. Buyers were just happy to buy “risk-free” assets that were more profitable than the alternative. Some buyers (AIG) ended up acting in self interest (knowingly or unknowingly), as they were bailed out by the government.

If anything, this crisis shows how little collective wisdom resides in the financial world. Financial institutions have been crashing from overexposure for decades, and new regulations only prevent crashes resembling previous ones. Soon enough, FIs will find a new exotic way to lose money, and markets will burn down again. The only incentive to keep financial managers from overexposure is the fear of busts, but these managers have nothing to lose. They risk other people’s money, and when their portfolios are wiped out, they keep their jobs. The government pays for their bonuses and keeps the companies afloat, and the world keeps turning. Until these managers are coerced by fear (of sanction, unemployment, or imprisonment) to play it safe, its only a matter of time before the next crash happens. When it does, everyone will blame each other; regulation will prohibit the drivers of the crash, and FIs will find other bets that may or may not bust.

To solve the financial crisis is to remove the incentives for these harmful transactions before the harm manifests. However, the government did not have the regulatory power to identify these transactions, stop them from happening, and punish those responsible. It is the role of regulatory authorities to create an environment where the self interest of one is in the self interest of all. It must also prevent fraud from becoming as wide-spread as it did during the crisis. However, deterring crime (and harmful stupidity) has been the reason for government for thousands of years, and they have yet to find a working solution.

Because the crisis was not stopped preemptively, the Federal Reserve could only remedy the symptoms. One of the Fed’s shortfalls was its inability to lend to shadow banks, because they can only lend to nondepository institutions in “unusual or exigent circumstances.” If the Fed had recognized the crisis earlier, perhaps the problems stemming from short-term liquidity could have been prevented.

As far as movements in interest rates, the Fed can only do so much. The uncertainty in stability and price of short term lending had stalled the economy long before the Fed began to make plays. Jump-starting a multi-trillion dollar economy is not something with absolute solutions; thus, there are few people smart enough to make any comments on the Fed’s post-crash actions.

New regulations are a step in the right direction. The ending of “too big to fail” will stop big institutions from believing that they are fully (and freely) insured. High-risk high-reward is a game meant for smaller institutions, so new SIFI (strategically important financial institutions) limitations are a good thing. However, as long as there is a mismatch between personal greed and public good, history will repeat itself. Finance will continue to threaten the world economy until profitable finance produces the greatest good for the greatest number.

Social Profiles of “Real World: Las Vegas”

In procrastination of upcoming exams, I started a couple episodes of MTV’s new reality show, “Real World: Las Vegas”. Immediately, I was intrigued by the characters and how soon they began to show high emotion and complex interaction. As such, I wanted to deeply understand who they were, and why they make for such dramatic television. It felt as if there was great thought put into exactly what would happen, as these people were chosen for a multi-million dollar franchise by very smart people. This is my analysis of the characters, and predictions for what will happen in the upcoming episodes. This is written after watching episode 2.

Naomi:

She has not said anything. She is just another girl. Perhaps she will get developed in the upcoming episodes.

Leeroy:

Leeroy, to put it simply, is just a very friendly guy who loves the opposite sex. He is a man’s man, but otherwise has not been fleshed out as a character. Otherwise, he is, for lack of a better word, your “token black guy” who will be the subject of drama when another character’s racist undertones come to light.

Dustin:

He is an idealist who holds himself in high esteem.  He is likely the youngest child or only child who has been babied his whole life. He was very popular and well liked in the small town that he grew up in, and he has grown to expects the same treatment from people around him. Dustin has had things his way for a long time, and interprets anything otherwise as “disrespect”. Because it is so alien for him to feel wronged, it has a great emotional impact.

He has an interesting past that will keep things interesting in the mid-season. He previously did gay porn on the internet, and as trust levels increase with him and the cast, this will likely be revealed. The impending re-evaluations and drama will make for a good episode ~7 or so.

Most prominent is his tendency  for serial monogamy. You know those people who always seem to be in long term relationships? This guy is one of them. In his interview tape, he was recorded saying something to the effect of “All my friends say I’m going to fall in love.” People like this confuse lust for love, and, coupled with Dustin’s need to be a good guy, makes him think he loves every girl that looks good and has a nice personality. The producers picked him for the high probability that he would fall for the next character, Heather.

Heather:

Serial monogamist number two is Heather. Dustin and Heather were probably picked at the same time. If I was a producer, I would have many pairs of people who were likely to begin dating, and pick the ones who would have the most interesting reactions with the rest of the crew.

Heather is aware of this tendency to move from boyfriend to boyfriend, and is rather weary of this trend. She did not dive in headfirst as much as Dustin did.

Micheal:

Micheal came from a broken home filled with crime and physical abuse. To deal with this, he has turned to structure and religion. Through God and school, he was able to silence the demons in his life. It is unclear how well silenced these demons are; they may surface later in the season or remain in check throughout.

He has trouble interacting in the social situations he’s in because it is a new experience. Also important to note is the fact that he lost his virginity in preparation of this show; you can tell because he says this to the producer upon getting the call of acceptance. Over the course of the show, he will struggle with his morality and his social skills, but with the aid of the ladies men that are around him, (especially Leeroy who is particularly nice). In the meantime, he serves as an asexual friend and confidant for the girls.

Also, he will serve as a foil to the next character, Adam.

Adam:

Adam is the supreme ladies man. I imagine he was raised with many sisters, but this is just a shot in the dark. What is clear is that he gets ladies like its nothing. He’s good looking, and he has his game down to a science (as evidenced by this repetition of lines when courting girls). He admit to having several girlfriends at a time, and his predictions about the girls have been incredibly precise.

Adam abused drugs in high school and then went to juvie for an incident involving shooting . It is unclear as to whether he actually shot someone, as he tells the story rather ambiguously: “and then someone got shot.” Either he is diminishing the role he played in attempted (or successful) murder or it is important for him to look like the ultimate bad-ass. He previously abused drugs, and now he abuses alchohol. The chaos in his past will play off Micheal’s past, as they have dealt with it in opposite ways.

The most important facet of Adam is that he is a complete sociopath, and has no regard for the consequences in other people’s lives.  He treats his girlfriend like trash, and has no problem getting drunk and belligerent. This, coupled with his extreme charisma, means that he is often able to talk his way out of trouble, and rarely experiences consequences for his actions. His deep seated anger and lack of empathy will result in some interesting storylines.

Nany

Nany is beautiful and in a poisonous 6-year relationship. However, she cannot bring herself to break up with her boyfriend, despite being keenly aware that she wants out. This is likely because partly because she doesn’t want to be alone and also partly because she needs to reconcile it with being a good person. She is attracted to bad boys, and is a “fixer.” She loves when criminals get the puppy eyes and get vulnerable, and she feels that all they need is a little love to straighten themselves out.

This is a fact that Adam is keenly aware of. He is sure that he will get with Nany, and he probably will. However, he needs to balance his hedonism with his pursuit of Nany, as she finds it very unattractive. Prolonged failure with Nany will probably cause him to straighten out, as he thinks he can do fuck-all and still get in her pants. If he discovers otherwise he will tune his behavior to match.

It is almost a certainty that Adam will hurt Nany. If he gets with her, he will immediately lose interest and move on. If he is continually frustrated in his pursuit, he will lash out, and he knows all the buttons to push.

I hope you found this interesting, and I hope you give the show a shot. It is incredibly interesting to me to try to deeply understand the characters, as you get to hear their inner thoughts and the behavior that corresponds.

Bruno Mars is a Narcissistic Pile of Shit

Everyone knows Bruno Mars, (henceforth “Bruno”). He is the writer and singer of beautiful, cooing, and sensitive songs that have no doubt gotten many an adulterous man out of the doghouse. However, you don’t know the true Bruno. He is in-fact not the man you think he is. Lets take a close look at the chorus of his most recent song, “Grenade.”

I’d catch a grenade for ya
Throw my head on a blade for ya
I’d jump in front of a train for ya
You know I’d do anything for ya

I would go through all this pain
Take a bullet straight through my brain
Yes, I would die for you, baby
But you won’t do the same

It looks like a pretty standard affair. Deep, everlasting love unrequited. In fact, he loves her (likely the listener of the song, henceforth “you”) so much, that he would do all of these painful things for her.

The first seven lines are all essentially the same statement, but it is vague what “for ya” means. I find that the grenade example is the most illustrative, as it is the name of the song. Its implied that he would shield her from the blast of a grenade (a rather gruesome ordeal; one must smother the live grenade with ones gut, shielding the explosion but more importantly the shrapnel with his body). This is probably the most romantic thing to say about your loved one. Your life is more important than mine; life without you is not life at all; my love for you transcends my most primal instinct to survive.

However, there comes a turning point in the chorus, which I have formatted for emphasis. It culminates at this line: “But you won’t do the same.” Bruno is deeply hurt that his love for you is not matched. He wishes that you thought your life was less important than his; he can’t understand why you wouldn’t shield him from the blast of the grenade.

It logically follows that your life is not more important than his, or else he would be repulsed at the thought that you would bring any harm to yourself on his behalf. If Bruno really loved you as much as he says he does, why would he want to cause you harm? Obviously Bruno’s sentiments do not lie in true love. His words are empty.

It is only important that his love is one step beyond yours. Its only important that he gets to wallow in his self pity, and paint you as an uncaring person.

“You’re so in love with this woman and you don’t understand, ‘What am I doing wrong? What am I not giving to you? I’ll go as far as putting as putting a bullet in my brain for you, and why can’t I get that kind of love in return?” -Peter Gene “Bruno Mars” Hernandez

Bruno is just sad because you don’t love him as much as he loves himself. Don’t bother, though, because if you would catch a grenade, then I’m sure he would be willing catch two.

Sorry for being so cold

But I have nothing to say to strangers about how it makes me feel. Its rough when the people affected most are the ones who others look to for strength.

The Mission

“It was a good fight, I was a man,” my brother says as he fidgets with the bandages around his hands and wrists. He continues to describe the scrap in detail. “I hit him pretty hard on the forehead, and I knew I hurt him because he pretended to ignore it. I tried to give him a swift kick to the crotch, but he raised his leg, and my knee connected with his shin. I was still recovering from the pain, when he hit me in the jaw. I hate it when people fight dirty. Stupid fuck.”

My brother was never a fighter, so I find this story very surprising. He was only in one fight in his life, and apparently that was before I was born.  What did this guy do? What could possibly provoke Suaiguh to violence?

“So he hit me in the jaw, and I lost my balance and hit my head or something, there’s no way that pansy knocked me out. I woke up with a circle of heads above me and-”

“Hey, whats your name?” a guy sitting behind us says.

“George Patterson,” Suaiguh responds.

“Hey, George Patterson, shut the fuck up. If you want to chitchat, go to Starbucks. Actually, I don’t give a fuck where you go, but if you want to talk, get the fuck out of this lecture hall.”

“I’m really sorry, it won’t happen again, it’s just that my little brother is-”

“Shut the fuck up. Now.”

“Sorry.”

My brother turns back forward, and looked at me sternly. We sit through the lecture in silence. His notes are empty, except for:

“Today 4:30 science building. Find her don’t be a pussy.”

What does that mean? Who is this girl?

“See, that’s what I get for bringing my kid brother to college. You can’t go a single class without getting me in trouble huh?” he says as we leave.

I look down at the ground. I got my brother in trouble. I feel so bad.

“Whatever, don’t worry about it. It’s partly my fault too.” He leans against a wall and watches people pass by.

I ask, “What was that thing in your notes, Suaiguh?”

He frowns. “Don’t call me that, you’re such a kid.”

He used to demand that I called him that. It meant something like Mr. Suave in Chinese or something. He used to be so proud that he thought up that nickname. He’s changed so much.

“What happens at 4:30? Who is the girl?” I ask again.

He unfastens the clip on his bandages and unwraps his hand.

“Let’s go” he says, and starts walking. I struggle to keep up. I watch him reposition the bandage, and start wrapping again. I don’t know why he wore them around his knuckles and wrists, it looked like all the cuts were on his palms. He finishes, and clips the bandages tight.

“That’s Brian,” he says, pointing. “He’s one of my best friends. He’s such a party animal; he practically goes to every party on campus. Hey Brian! Brian!”

Brian is the one texting on his phone. He has bad eyesight; you can tell. That’s why he has to focus so hard on reading his phone, and also why he didn’t recognize my brother when he looked up.

“Hey,” my brother says, and grabs Brian’s arm.

“Oh… hey George,” he says and smiles. Except it wasn’t a happy smile; it was more like a conveyance of teeth than of happiness. “Who is your friend?”

“This is my kid brother. He’s 11. My mom has to go on a trip, so I have to babysit.” My brother is lying, but he doesn’t know it. Mom doesn’t have a trip. She just thinks that if I’m around, he will stay out of trouble for a couple days.

“Oh, cool. Listen I gotta run to class,” Brian says.

“Nah, you’ve got a few minutes before you have to go,” my brother says. He asks about upcoming parties, of which Brian knows none. I stand silently.

“Remember at that one party where I was standing on that table? And it broke? How funny was that?” my brother says.

Brian pauses for a moment, and responds “Dude, that wasn’t cool. Why do you always have to be like that?”

Suaiguh stares at his hands and rubs the bandages with his fingers.

“What was going through your mind yesterday? Why did you start that fight?” Brian asks.

Suaiguh still says nothing.

“What were you trying to prove?”

Nothing.

“Well it was nice talking to you.” Brian says and turns to leave.

“Call me if some party comes up!” My brother waved. Brian didn’t answer.

We walk again, this time, faster. Suaiguh checks his digital watch and presses the alarm key a few times. The display flashes between the current time and 4:30.

“What happens at 4:30?” I ask.

“I have to find Valerie.” He responds.

“What happens when you find her?”

“I’m going to solve my life.”

I know he won’t explain, so I don’t bother. Now when we walk, Suaiguh is in front and I follow. Every time I try to catch up, he walks faster. I follow him into a building, into a classroom, and into a seat.

It’s a psychology or social or behavior or something. The teaching assistant passes out questionnaires to everyone. She smiles at me and hands me one too. I smile back. The questions were interesting: “What is important to you? How would you describe yourself? What’s your favorite trait? Proudest achievement?” This is so much fun. I write about my fifth place finish in the chess tournament, and my storytelling ability, and my friends, and my family, and my brother. I really hope they will read it to the class. The assistant collects them, and this time I smile first.

I look to my brother’s desk, and the worksheet is untouched. He is holding his jaw on his hands, elbows on the table. The assistant walks up to his desk and waits for him to hand it in.

“George?” she says. He does not move.  She inches her hand closer to the paper, and starts to pick it up, but hesitates. His eyes stare off into space without acknowledging her presence.  She slowly slides the paper off of the desk. Suaiguh still sits unsmiling.

They don’t read them out loud. Instead they talk about some kai test and the different values of P square or something. I sleep.

Suaiguh is standing above me. “Class is over.”

On his face, a cut on his right cheek links his cheekbone and ear. It’s surrounded by a bruise, and the stitches are fresh.

“Does your face still hurt?” I ask. He never answers me. It’s not worth trying to figure out anything in his life.

His watch starts beeping.

4:30

“Fuck, lets go,” he grunts, and darts out of the room.

I’m sprinting to keep up. I’ve lost him. I’m scared. What do I do? I keep running.

Four blocks down, I see him. He’s walking towards a group of girls. I can’t miss this. I obscure myself behind a trash can.

“Excuse me, Valerie?” he says. One of the girls turns around; her posse follows suit.

“I have something to tell you,” he continues. One of her eyebrows fires upwards. “This guy said he fucked you.” Her other eyebrow follows suit.

“And I knew that you would never do such a thing, that you’re a good girl.” She opens her mouth to speak, but Suaiguh cut her off.

“So I told him to take it back.” She tries to utter a syllable, but was cut off again. “Just hear me out. He didn’t, so I punched him in the face.” Valerie’s eyebrows furl downwards, and her lips tighten up. “And we got in this fight and-”

“Are you talking about my boyfriend?” This time Valerie is the interjector. She is staring him in disbelief, waiting for a response. My brother gives none. Moments pass. Valerie’s hands are on her hips, her neck cocked forward. George kneaded the palm of his hand with his thumb. Neither of them knew what to do next.

“We have to go,” Valerie says, signaling her friends to leave.

I walk out from behind my sanctuary, and up to my brother. He’s still rubbing his hands. He pants uneasily, as though each breath requires concentration.

He unfastens the clip on his bandages, then on the other hand. His hands fall to his sides. The cloth refused to ceremoniously fall to the floor, so he tries violently to tear them off. They did not rip, so he messily unravels them, and leaves them on the floor. I follow him home without a word.

I don’t speak to him for the rest of the day. I sleep early.

At some point, he checks to make sure I’m asleep, and I pretend.

I sneak out and see him in the living room. He’s sobbing, and petting his dog, but he smiles through the tears.

“Today I talked to my girlfriend Valerie. She was really happy to see me. Its her birthday soon, she said she wanted daisies. I can’t wait to buy her daisies.”

Sorry, but

Many people have accosted me on some odd morning or afternoon. “HEY CRAIG, WHATS UP?”

I don’t remember you. “Hey… where do I know you from?”

“That party! You were the guy talking about the limits of structure in music!”

I often do explain the limits of structure in music, so I’m sure she has the right person.

I lie. “Sorry, I must have been drunk or something.”

Sometimes they respond, “Haha Craig! you’re such a partier.” Other times, they get offended like I’m a bad person. Sometimes they say, “Its rude not to remember people’s names, you need to work on that.” Sometimes they smile. Usually they don’t.

I practice my telepathic powers, straining to send a fax to their mind. “Its rude to expect people to remember you when you aren’t that interesting. You’re a carbon copy of every other ditzbag that I forget at parties.”

I smile, and say “Yeah, I’ll work on it. Whats you’re name?”

I’ve become pretty adept at feigning sincerity.

Pyramids

A pharaohs life’s work was to design what he would be buried in. He spent his whole life ordering slaves and architects to create a tomb.

I guess I’m very similar. However, I hope that when people remember me for my life’s work, they don’t remember something as petty and superficial as when they remember the pharaohs.

happy

the last few posts are incredibly dark. i just thought they would be fun to write.

as for the poem, i dont think that way about that person. and yes, there is that person. she’s pretty wonderful nonetheless.

i’ve never killed a man before? so i guess that explains the short story

i’m happy dont worry. i’m writing this just for fun.

A Maxim, Revisited

I’m interest, not invested, but if I get interest on my investment, then its going to be compounded. continually. or something.

The last part is kinda awkward. I think its just because I’m doing IRR and discount rate calculations in Management.