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Credit Default Swaps explained

Untangling credit default swaps from Marketplace on Vimeo.

Name droppin

You know that guy who came from behind in the 4x100 freestyle relay to put in the best split ever and secure the gold medal for the USA-- link? Well, he and I were classmates back at UCSB in Dramatic Arts 5. We both signed up for the class because it was easy and fun. He went on to win a few Olympic swimming medals including the above-mentioned gold. I went on to own a ten-dollar pair of aviator sunglasses. Congratulations, Jason! You've made your fellow Gauchos and Americans extremely proud.

Pacific Arms recording

I wrote and recorded a song on my old cassette four-track about a year ago. Check it.

http://coimk.com/2008/08/07/a-new-pa-track/

His Words - Not Mine

I just wanted to take the time to draw your attention to a little project the Famous M and I are involved in. We're taking turns writing chapters of a novel. Chapter one from M and chapter two from me are already up. Your guess is as good as mine as to what M has in store for chapter three.

His Words - Not Mine

i know this is difficult to do in a blog format, but make sure to read it chronologically, or you'll feel like you're watching Memento.

Severance

The call finally came. Ned was casual about it. "Can you cruise by for a sec? We need to talk about this whole merger thing."

Morgan already knew that being part of the acquired company meant that his department would be decimated. Morgan's department was the current poster child for redundancy. As an ace analyst Morgan felt confident the new company would want to keep him around. Yet he longed for the possibility of receiving a lucrative severance package about which he had heard many of his colleagues in similar situations rave.

"How's it going, Morgan?"

"Um. Not totally sure yet. It could go either way I guess."

"Well, to get right into it, you're actually in a really good spot right now. I've been given the authority to hand-pick the people I want to stay. And, of course, you're number one on my keeper list."

"Well, I guess I'm doing all right then."

"You'd ultimately have to prove yourself to the new regime, but I don't think that will problem for you. You got my vote."

"Excellent."

"I also wanted to throw something out there for you if you're interested. I hate to do this, but I'm required by the new regime to make this offer to all of our people. You see, a lot of what we do, they already do. And it's kind of pointless to have two people performing the same job. They bought us, and they want to keep their people. With the expanded market, of course, they're going to need some bodies-- but only a few. And that's why I want you to stick around. But I'm required to give you the opportunity to take their deal if you decide to leave voluntarily."

"So what's the deal?"

"Six month's salary. If you decide to stick around, and they let you go, it's only three month's."

"Fuck yeah! I'll take the deal."

"Damn it. I knew you'd take the deal. I begged those guys, 'Just let me keep a few. Do I have to tell them all about the deal?' They're stupid for letting good people go."

"Well, tell 'em thanks for me. What about you?"

"I don't know. They haven't offered me a deal yet. Well, we're going to get a big going-away party together in couple weeks, so don't run off too quick."

The remainder of the conversation between Ned and Morgan consisted of small talk. Ned excelled at small talk. Morgan couldn't wait to get on with the rest of his life.

Morgan had big ideas. And they came cascading in giant waves to him as he drove home. He always toyed with the idea of starting his own consulting firm, and now he could actually do something about it. He just had to get home. And then the bomb went off.

If felt like an earthquake or a giant gust of wind blowing from behind him. Morgan heard a thunder strike without a cloud in the sky. No, it was bigger than thunder. The bowel-jiggling rumble was unmistakable. When Morgan looked in his rear-view mirror, the horror overwhelmed him. From the downtown area he left minutes ago arose the largest and blackest plume of smoke he had seen that wasn't computer-generated or from an old newsreel. This was real. And his dreams that seemed so real a few seconds ago were just dreams.

Was it Al-Qaeda or some homegrown McVeigh-like motherfucker? Was it one of our own godfathers terrorizing his own people to force them into his "protective" arms? The blood spilled on September 11 and all the previous and subsequent wars were never enough to quench the thirst of those wanting or wanting to hold on to power. It didn't matter. Morgan just had to get home.

Honk

I woke up. The sun had yet to return. I'm not a big fan of waking up. And I really hate to wake up before it is absolutely necessary. With no birds chirping in the dawn, I was afraid to look at the clock. The only sound was a distant car horn. It wasn't the typical car alarm with the repeating BEEP BEEP BEEP. This was one continuous BEEEEEEEEEEE... It was there when I awoke, and it continued.

I asked, "Do you hear that?"

Michelle was in deep REM. I would get no answer from her.

I waited for the sound to stop. I didn't want to look at the clock, and I fought the urge to raise my head to take a peak. What seemed like a couple more minutes passed. The sound continued. I used my pillow as a tortilla for a taco de cabeza, but the sound burned right through the thick shell and into my ear canals. The only drug that was going to knock out this nuisance was TV, I figured. Some late night cartoons ought to do the trick nicely. The brilliant thing with most cartoons is they disengage your brain from critical thought. They're usually quite effective at turning off my brain so I can get back to sleep. After almost a half hour of some violent Anime designed for twelve-year-olds, that fucking sound was still there. I could feel it growing inside my head like a rapidly developing alien embryo.

It was time for action. I laced up my sneakers and threw on a sweater. Someone's car was about to get keyed. The cool night air solidified my resolve. The sound seemed to come from all angles. The houses and alleys of the suburb reflected the sound in such a way, it was hard to tell where it was coming from. I began to jog in one direction, gaging the strength of the sound. Was it getting weaker? No. It was definitely getting stronger. I was on the right track. The sound grew louder as I navigated the streets. House after house passed all with similarly manicured lawns. I remembered I needed to mow my own lawn, but not before I killed the car that was creating that infernal sound. Thinking about the sound of a lawn mower swallowing that giant beep was soothing.

And there it was before me. It was a mid-size sedan very similar to my car, parked in front of a house very similar to my own. I approached the driveway slowly. The sound was almost deafening now. It appeared someone was slumped over the steering wheel. This was going to be fun. I should have brought my camera. As I moved closer I noticed the body rested in an awkward position. Comfort was not a priority for this sleeping driver. Was he asleep? He didn't appear to be breathing. He almost didn't seem real-- more like a crash test dummy. Yet there was an air of familiarity about him. I moved closer to the driver's side window and then stopped cold. My lifeless face stared back at me from inside the car.

I awoke with a start. I felt I had flexed every fucking muscle in my body. Honestly it was just like in the movies when someone wakes up from a nightmare. I looked over at Michelle. She was still asleep. And there it was in the air and in my head-- the sound. Without hesitation I laced up my sneakers and threw on a sweater. I flew out the door and began sprinting down the street. Then it stopped.

What I do while my wife studies for her exams

I could do more productive things, but that's what work is for, right? So here are a few things that have been helping me unwind lately.

National Geographic

I have a subscription. My grandpa had a subscription, and I've always been fascinated by the golden rectangle. The problem is they don't come often enough-- only once a month. It doesn't even take a couple nights to get through. If you can limit yourself to one article a night, you can stretch it out. Sometimes I skip articles though. Philippine eagles just don't capture my attention. Maybe I'll go back and read it some day.

Zeta Gundam

I pretty much love anything Gundam.

Tape Op

My other subscription. This one is actually free. If you're into recording, this publication is indispensable.

Flight of the Conchords

My sister got me the first season for my birthday, so I felt obligated to watch it. It was kinda funny actually. It's the Kiwi version of Tenacious D back when they were on HBO.

Extras

I bought season one and two as a gift for my family's Dirty Santa gift exchange. My poor grandma picked it. I could tell she wasn't pleased for some reason. She was stuck with it for a while until Michelle swooped in to save her. So I got to watch season two, which I hadn't seen yet. There are only six episodes though, so it's not enough to cover months of lonely nights unless you watch it over and over again.

Casio PX-200 Digital Piano

I picked up one of these for my birthday. Lately I've been teaching myself Satie's Three Gymnopedies. Not being a pianist, prior to this, the only thing I could really play on the piano was "Hey Jude". I figured the Gymnopedies would be good pieces to work on for someone who doesn't really play before I start diving into some crazy Chopin preludes.

Netvibes

I keep all my RSS feeds organized on Netvibes. I can go deep, or I can graze depending on my mood.

The Daily Show and The Colbert Report

I get my national and world news and laugh a little at the same time-- what a combo.

Blade Runner

I got the four-disc set for Xmas. As to be expected, it's loaded with making-of documentary footage to help you literally pick up the craft of film making.

Books

I've actually had time to finish the book my buddy at work lent me like a year ago. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon is an epic story of two Jewish cousins in WWII New York who take on the Nazis through their popular superhero comic, The Escapist. As a work of fiction, it's meticulously researched and feels more like a true stylized biography of these characters as they interact with real people and events of the time. It was little too tidy and straight-forward for me, but I was still able to enjoy many sections.

So that's what I've been up to. Now you can go off and be me. I'll try to be more exciting for the next time.