On May 23rd, 2003 I graduated from high school. For better or worse, one of the finest days of my entire life.

At the time I didn’t drink alcohol, I was single, and I had my whole future ahead of me.

So what did I do to celebrate?

I went to my friend Frank’s house. And played Halo.

Indeed I think we played Halo until at least 5am.

I’m not really sure why or how things ended up that way. You might think that high school graduation would be more festive. But in some way it was a final moment when Frank and I could sit together as two kids before heading our separate ways in life.

Anyway, the game of Halo wasn’t really the most important aspect of my evening.

I remember getting into my car in that stillness before morning truly begins. And as I headed up the Berlin Turnpike towards Hartford the sky ahead of me was painted in yellow-orange sunlight. The sun wasn’t yet up but all in front of me was that light.

And obviously that’s how I felt at that moment.

I felt that things would truly be alright.

I’d finally made it through the crucible of high school and I’d emerged stronger and better than anyone would have imagined.

Of course the future was bright.

Life isn’t a straight line like that. I suppose I should have known that.

But between May 23rd and the first day of college I spent an entire summer bathed in that sunlight. So sure that things would be better tomorrow.

Sometimes I wonder what I’d say to that “me”. In fact I wonder if that “me” would even recognize the person I became. In some ways I’m still me.

But in others, I’ve shrunk away.

Only wishing I could be back in my car with the sun just beginning to rise.

Most of my time at school was spent dodging the sports requirement, reading French Existentialism, playing with my awesome Pentium 2 15″ Dell laptop, being class VP, and generally being a pretentious prick (kinda like now).

But we did have an art requirement. And as a senior I had to fulfill one more semester of art. I was lucky because my schedule wouldn’t accommodate any more AP courses (due to scheduling conflicts) <– see? Pretentious.

Anyway I took a non-traditional art course because I’d already done photography and I wasn’t interested in painting/drawing. Honestly I don’t even remember the course title. But it was all about exploring various construction methods and approaches. It was pretty much free-reign.

Our first assignment was to build items out of fabric. We would sew up the fabric and then stuff it with fluff to make the item. I failed miserably at this because I wanted to make scissors and my sewing was poor.

Luckily our next project was far better. Once again I can’t remember what the actual assignment was but something in my mind clicked.

I think I had what they call “inspiration”.

I got it in my head that I was going to create a “No” sign. You know, the kind that tells you not to smoke. The kind that tells ghosts that they’ll be caught by Ghostbusters.

The structure would be 4 feet in diameter and 1 foot in width. I drew a sketch with the angle for the line in the middle. I showed it to my art teacher.

And then the fun began.

He was fully invested in my project and we set off to find a way to create this monstrosity.

The two sides of the sign would just be plywood cutouts. Holding them together would be small wood blocks. Then we could screw them into the plywood and voila- the main structure would be complete.

This was done in no time. One afternoon after school I cut out the shapes and screwed it all together.

But we had a problem. how would we cover the structure? Well, luckily my art teacher was friendly with the theater tech crew. Indeed I worked for the tech crew most seasons helping to build sets and do lighting.

Anyway, we realized that the theater often used a product called luan. It’s basically crappy “wood” veneer that we’d cover the sets with. It was also quite thin. My teacher realized that this luan could be scored on one side every half/quarter-inch to allow it to bend. This would allow us to “wrap” the structure in the luan.

To hold the luan against the wood, we’d use finishing nails.

This process was laborious.

And somewhat dangerous because I had to use a saw at just the right height to properly score the luan. This meant carefully setting the height and it also meant my teacher had to trust I wouldn’t cut off my hands .

Anyway, this took some very very serious time because I had to score all the luan and then nail it into place.

After this was done we realized that there was a far larger problem on the horizon.

I built the structure from wood and it was all…. not perfect. There were gaps and the luan was scored in such a way that the edges were all opened every short distance.

I had it in my mind that this structure would be very non-organic. It shouldn’t have seams or any kind of natural look.

Over weeks my teacher gave me many possible putties and products, which were meant to fill the holes. It took a long time to find one, which truly worked because after applying the product and letting it dry, I would need to sand down the product to keep the structure in “perfect” shape.

This took some time.

But eventually I reached a point where it seemed good-enough. Maybe 90% of the way there.

With the school-year soon to end I needed to finish the product.

I grabbed glossy bright red paint and layered the structure with several coats.

It was finished.

To this day I’m not sure what really got into me that semester. I’m not sure why this art project became so important. But it surely was. I would stay after school just to do finishing touches. It was something so critical. I needed it to be just right.

I was fed up with the project plenty of times.

The putties never worked.

And the project took far longer than expected.

But when it was done I had built something. It wasn’t just a painting or even a clay sculpture. I built it from plywood and nails and screws and paint.

Later on, my parents installed the sign in their family room. Sometimes guests will ask where they purchased the artwork, thinking it’s some modernist piece from an actual artist.

I truly long for that kind of project. The idea of creating something. Doing something with my hands and not just my mind. Something to slave over lovingly.

I haven’t had much experience with this kind of task again. It might be a good idea to try.

In this vain I thought I’d describe an event I attended in the relatively distant past.

Life was just about to turn. I’d already met Jeffrey. And C had already met D. But we were still young. And the deep connections of “marriage” had not yet set. There was life outside those walls.

And it was summer.

We took the train, snapshots taken along the way. My hair was too short. And my green “Academy Is” t-shirt was too small. And so was I. At 125lbs I was somewhere less than a lightweight. I wasn’t ready to be “me”. Best to shrink away I guess. To slide into invisibility.

But it was warm. July 4th.

Arrived at Spring Garden and began to walk. I was literally shaking with apprehension. C was low-key as usual. Around us was the run-down abandoned sites of what would become Waterfront Square. Where yuppies would eventually descend. But not yet.

There was a line. I was surprised. But it began to move and C and I crowded in. We wandered for a short while as the opening bands played. There were many.

The sun was still high, but eventually it descended behind the towers of Philadelphia. The stage was framed in golden light. Another few snapshots.

And then “The Hush Sound” began to play. I wasn’t ready for them. I’d never heard of them, frankly. But what a feeling. Hearing a “sound” for the first time; being lifted high away from the ground with a joyful noise. I’m not sure that C was as excited, but I was surely enraptured by the jangly-rock blaring away in my ear.

Soon the golden frame began to sink away to blue and purple. The anticipation was growing.

I was already on clouds.

But I wasn’t ready for this. A literal carnival cascaded across the stage. And shortly Brendan Urie appeared. I figured that “Panic!” would be poppy and fun. Little did I know. The energy and sound coming from the stage was intoxicating. Young men even enjoyed some light “moshing”. I was transported by it all. Only momentarily interrupted by the fireworks.

I was soon consumed and sweaty. My voice cracking from screaming. And in the end, as Brendan sang a cover of “Tonight, Tonight” I knew I could not rise any higher. There was no where else on planet earth so mesmerizing.

The sky was now black and I was spent. C was somewhat perplexed by my enthusiasm but he accepted things.

That night was a door. Things would never be the same. My youth began to fade away. Not quickly. Not precipitously. But slowly. Carefully. Inevitably.

My life before was an emo dream. The highest highs and lowest lows. There’s not too much I miss about that.

But I have not reached those heights since.

BUT

I was glad to at least feel slightly less alone than normal.

The program takes place mostly in “gay mecca” cities such as San Francisco, Los Angeles, Palm Springs, Atlanta, and New York. I’m from a suburb of a small city in Connecticut and have never lived in any of the mentioned cities (though I have been to all of them at one time or another). One thing I should note off the bat is that many of the pressures, which were discussed by the people in the film were those, which I’d experienced through the media but never first hand. Perhaps this is an advantage of living in a smaller city.

The most interesting premise of the documentary is that men are, by nature quite competitive. And in this way, our bodies are just one more way of competing. The ideal is smooth, tan, and muscular. So men compete to have the best in all those categories. Indeed, in these large cities the men described as being the most in-line with this image ensure that their group of friends consist solely of other similar looking men.

And this is something I haven’t really experienced. Where I live there are plenty of out homosexual men. But I don’t sense this extreme segmentation. Perhaps I’m wrong.

As main stream normative values gain more power among homososexual men I hope this situation improves. As men become judged for NOT being in monogamous long-term-relationships with kids, property, and shared finances the focus on bodies will lessen.

At least that is my hope.

One thing I’d like to add is that another reason gay men are obsessed with becoming muscular is because we are perceived as being sissies and wimps. We want to appear strong. So that’s what we do. The appeal of this is quite strong for me. I am naturally  thin and I’m  average in height. Further, I’m just not a kid who can survive a fist fight. I’m a huge nerd. And so I wish that I could be tougher.

Anyway, I have nothing much more to add but it was nice to at least sit for an hour and know that I’m not alone in my unhappiness about my physical appearance.

One of the issues with these questions is that a true answer is often far beyond reach. It’s tough to come to a “peace” of mind.

My basic question concerns the elements of physical sexual attraction. My sister and I will be watching television when an advertisement pops up. In this advertisement there are shirtless men with smooth-tan-muscled physiques. Honestly I have no clue what they’re selling. But it’s clear that the ad is targeted to either straight men or their girlfriends (who will then buy the product for their boyfriends). And I’m somewhat lost.

The ad is blatantly homoerotic. But straight men are expected to watch this and buy the product? In the heterosexual world things are clean-cut. The straight man wants to BE the man in the ad. The straight girl wants her man to BE the man in the ad. But the straight man doesn’t WANT the man the ad. He WANTS whatever his ideal female is (also highly affected by advertising, probably).

Being a homosexual is somewhat more confusing. I want to BE the man in the ad. And I also WANT the man in the ad (or at least my man to look like the man in the ad). Simply put, the object of my desire is the same thing that I want to see in myself.

This is a source of confusion.

It’s also not very “deep”. It’s an obvious conundrum. But it’s an issue I have definite concerns with. It is difficult to admire and desire someone when inside you also have a pang of jealousy. It’s not a healthy division.

I’m also not sure that there is any real resolution to this concern. I suppose a situation could exist in which I wanted a man to look a certain way but I wanted to look a different way. But I’m not a non-conformist. I’m down with whatever the social norm is. It’s implanted and there to stay.

I’m pretty sure that “experts” spend their whole careers researching and writing about this exact problem. Perhaps they have more to say than me. But it is an issue for me. I’ll be the first to admit it.

And to close, happy 4th to all Americans around the world today. Our city on a hill is alive and well. Special thanks to all those serving to keep it that way!

I have been a fan of Coppola’s movies ever since “Lost In Translation” was released way back in 2003. I understand that Coppola released “The Virgin Suicides” before this but “LiT” was her first truly great film.

Anyway, rather than post a “normal” review, I’d like to describe some specific findings and feelings I have about the film.

I first saw the movie at the Angelika Film Center in New York. I saw the film again with my mother here in Connecticut. Finally I watched it a third time at home quite recently.

I’d like to focus on the sense of “unease” in this movie. It’s true that many of the main themes here have already been discussed in “LiT” but the undercurrents in “Somewhere” are far darker. Importantly I feel that there are many references to the works of Bret Easton Ellis. When seen through this lens, the film gains a very dark character.

So I’d like to describe some of these undertones.

The film centers around actor Johnny Marco. Through much of the film he receives text messages from an unknown source. These messages are all variations of “fuck you” or “who the fuck do you think you are?”. While this could seem entirely comical, I found them disturbing. Who is sending the notes? What kind of past does Johnny have? Is the sender violent? Has violence taken place in the past? Throughout the novels of Bret Easton Ellis there are often messages left by characters, which are similarly vague as those presented here. However, because the novels tend to delve deeper the reader eventually encounters acts of violence, rape, murder, and abuse. These acts lie just below the surface, however. They’re not obvious to all of the characters at any one time and indeed some acts will never be known by anyone other than the principles. These texts are troubling to me. We simply don’t know what’s going on here. What appears a silly trope is truly unsettling.

Indeed most of the allegories to Bret Easton Ellis and his type of writing deal with this theme. The idea that beneath the surface of seemingly silly or odd behaviors there is a history of great violence and evil.

Johnny stays at the Chateau Marmot in West Hollywood, California. Many of the scenes are of him walking down hallways at the hotel. There are several instances here, which also play on the theme mentioned above. In one scene three tall models are dressed all in black and then walk into a room where something is “flashing”. In another scene Johnny passes by a room where two plates of food lie on the ground next to the door. Inside we can hear yelps from inside. Sometimes these are sounds of sexual ecstasy but if you listen closely you might wonder if the sounds are of something more painful. In another case Johnny walks by some kind of balcony in which there is a model wearing a black skirt but no top while her hair is cut. She is smoking a cigarette.

The question I have is simple. What’s going on here? What are these situations? We can’t see into the room with the flashes. Are they simply being photographed? What, exactly is being photographed? The yelps behind a closed door. What’s happening? Just some folks having sex? Perhaps a torture scene? Perhaps a prostitute being raped? We simply don’t know. And what’s going on with the model? She’s so nonchalant. Why is she not wearing clothes? What kind of modeling is she doing?

Of course we will never know these answers. But the questions linger in our minds. This hotel where the rich and beautiful spend their days. It’s glamorous alright. But perhaps something is very wrong here. Quite wrong.

My favorite scene in the film takes place while Johnny is going to have a mask made of his head for a movie. While he’s driving to the studio he passes by a house in which a Lexus convertible has crashed into a wall separating the house from the street. It’s a fleeting scene. What happened? Perhaps an old woman lost control of the car and hit the wall. Perhaps someone shot the driver and caused the crash. Perhaps the driver was being given a blowjob and lost control. It should be noted that the sun is shining in LA during this scene. The sun is out. We can see everything easily. But in fact we have no idea what just took place. It could be something innocent. Perhaps not.

One other example of the darkness beneath the surface comes while Johnny is driving his daughter around in his 360 Modena. He continues to worry that they’re being followed by a black SUV. This kind of paranoia is often described in “Glamorama”, a novel by “Bret Easton Ellis”. Why would an SUV even be following him? Who would be in the SUV? What would they want? We don’t know any of these answers. Indeed we don’t even know if there is an SUV.

While not of the same theme as has been discussed, the most obvious allegory to Bret Easton Ellis occurs during a scene in which he is standing at his balcony looking out onto the city and we are shown a billboard. The billboard has a whole tagline on it but we only see the “DO YOU”. While I’m not sure that this phrase has super dark undertones it recalls the “Disappear Here” sign from “Less than Zero”, Bret Easton Ellis’s first novel. “Do You”? What does that even mean? Do I what? We don’t know.

“Somewhere” is easily Coppola’s greatest film. “Lost in Translation” is more accessible, soft, and beautiful. But “Somewhere” is deeper and darker. True, it delves into the ennui of life and how we must find other humans to connect with. These are normal film themes for Coppola. But this film is a bit more striking in its’ explanation as to why we depend on these connections. It’s not just because we will be depressed and lonely without them. No. Without true bonds between human beings life becomes adrift. Darkness begins to eat away at the edges. This darkness is sometimes too terrible to even face. But it is there. Lurking.

That’s fine by me.

However, that does not mean that good and important laws cannot be passed. On “Morning Joe” (MSNBC) there was an excellent point made on Monday. They mentioned that in all likelihood if the Ryan budget proposal was amended with some increases in income tax for the “wealthy”, it would immediately pass.

Why is that? Well Republicans would get everything they want and can say that the increased taxes will only affect a small population of people. The Democrats can say that while cuts in spending were necessary, we’re being fair and forcing the well-off to sacrifice as well. Thus, substantial change in legislation is happening but the theater of politics is being obeyed.

However, the process of getting to such legislation is virtually impossible.

That is what’s beginning to bother me.

It seems that congress is very willing to compromise on final legislation but creating that legislation is impossible. Honestly I’m not entirely sure why this has occurred. But I have a theory.

In the old days legislators were all “good old boys”. They all knew each other and would go to the bar and smoke/drink and make legislation. It wasn’t very democratic, honest, or transparent. But it sort of worked. Today, legislators are so worried about being reelected and proving their bona fides to their constituents that they cannot have this social interaction.

I don’t really know what I’d like to happen. All I know is that I woud like our legislators to get more friendly with each other. Sure, they’ll pass a whole lot of pork and stupid crap. But they’ll also hold hands and jump in with both feet to deal with the larger issues of the day.

In some circumstances.

But it seems that the federal government would like to stop paying for public goods.

In our fury over the federal deficit/debt (a good source of anger) our government has decided that cuts will come from education, infrastructure, and public radio. You know, this is just ummmm dumb. There are three things, which contribute to the debt- everything else is dimes and nickels. They include the wars in Iraq/Afghanistan, medicaid, medicare, and also healthcare costs for the military (yes, that’s four). So from a purely economic perspective it seems to make sense that these bloated things be scaled back a little bit. Because these expenditures are so large, only small percentages matter.

Because education and infrastructure are so small, to get the kind of cuts we all know we need, they must be deeply shredded.

But there is a moral argument as well. An element to the situation, which I tend to not focus on.

Let’s consider infrastructure. I am not going to argue that better roads/bridges will make us more economically competitive. This is because I don’t know whether infrastructure would help our economy or not. Ok, so why should we continue to fund (and in my opinion raise the funding for) this product? Well for one, roads and bridges are public goods.

Shut up libertarians.

They’re public goods.

Sure, in Los Angeles or New York there are small private highways, which charge folks to use them. They allow the choked roads to free up with some competition. I’m all for it. Private companies, go make highways! (so long as public ones are next-door)

Look, interstate highways are designed to transport people from place to place. They’re not designed specifically so that goods can get from A to B. They allow people to travel. In this way, highways are a great democratizer. Private industry has no interest in building roads for people. They will only build roads where people can afford them and there is a great need for competition with public roads, which are not doing their job properly.

For example, FedEx exists because when people have the money and the desire to truly ship something fast, they have an alternative to the USPS. Should we simply not have a public postal service? Indeed, lots of people want the USPS to die because it doesn’t make money. There are lots of reasons for why it makes no money but one is because it must deliver the mail out to podunk towns in Oklahoma (no offense, I swear). It must deliver the mail here every day even in snow. In other words, the USPS provides services, which the private sector has no interest in providing, but which Americans truly want.

Another reason for why we need to fund infrastructure is because at some point, standardization is necessary. If private companies build the roads then the rules could be different on every road. There’s no reason for why they ought to be the same. Once again, only the government would force this kind of uniformity. Americans don’t like uniformity because it’s anti-freedom, per se. I agree. But certain things are not critical to our “freedom” so much as they are the soil in which our freedom can grow.

I would now like to turn to education. I am slowly evolving in my thoughts on education so I’m sure I will change my mind soon enough. Oh well. I think education should be a public trust. The federal government should have little say as to the form that public schools should take. But it has a vested interest in the kind of students, which graduate.

Here are things, which are bad about public schools:

- first in, first out

-local school boards

-school lunches

-SES divisions in success

-quality of teachers

There are probably a million other things. What’s critical, though is that we have a quality public education system in this country. This is critical because it is the strength of our young people on which, we will thrive. Let me explain what must be expected, however.

Schools are public goods. They should not be expected to turn a profit. Bleed money? Hopefully not. But make money? I don’t think so. Anyway, some problems include the system of teacher’s unions for reasons, which most people understand. This problem is structural and is a bygone relic of some distant age. Moving on.

Once we deal with unions, quality teachers will return. As the famous “teach for America” has taught us, bright, young, and motivated people want teaching experience. They fly in, teach for a few years and then are replaced by more folks. We must understand that teaching will become like many other professions. There is no expectation that you’ll be here forever. Those who enjoy teaching and are good at it are welcome to stay on. But if you have other goals, that’s great. By drawing in people for even 2-3 years at a time, the entire educational system will be revitalized. It’s no longer a dead-end for those with other aspirations. As well, Teach for America has also shown us that college graduates can work and succeed in the worst school systems. There is no reason lower SES schools should perform poorly.

Before I leave the topic I would also like to make note of school lunches, which are held hostage by private corporations. School lunch isn’t supposed to be cheap! Raising our children is expensive! It should be expected to be expensive! This is a public good, which is supporting the health of our nation here. It’s not a line in a budget. So goodbye, fuckers. No more processed foods. Period. If kids want to go to the corner store on their way to or from school I can’t stop them. But in the public school, there is a better way. If the children don’t want to eat, that’s also fine. Starving children never say no to a meal. If they’re hungry, they’ll eat. The worst we can do is augment the trash they’re already eating. Let’s not pretend that school children are enlightened capitalists out for their own interests. They’re evolutionary creatures craving sugar and carbohydrates.

Finally. School boards. Goodbye. You’re out of a job and entirely irrelevant. What do these boards do, anyway? They choose principals, choose curricula, and basically carry out a host of political functions. Good riddance. Once agin, school is a public good, not a private one. It’s not up to the “market” to decide what are children are taught. In order to be successful in the modern world children will need to know things. In college biology they will be expected to have been exposed to evolutionary science. In history they will be expected to have known about civilizations older than the Mesopotamians. And in literature and math, students will be expected to have read basic Shakespeare and know something of trig/calculus. If they do not know these basic things, they will flunk out.

Suck it.

If you don’t know the basics of these topics you cannot graduate high school. And it’s not too much to ask. Our graduates don’t need to be scholars. They don’t need to be grand musicians. But they ought to be competent. And it is my belief that school boards help no one in these regards. They merely are the arbiters of the mob.

We need government dollars, yes. Public school is a public good. Simply shoving costs under the rug is a lie. But experimentation is fine. I love the idea that some schools will experiment with having specialized high schools or various other structural changes. Schools in the same district can even compete with each other. It’s all good.

But ALL schools should be expected to feed their students properly, teach them information that is EXPECTED in higher learning, and attract competitive teachers. That’s all. It’s not some “secret”.

Finally my favorite. The news. The news isn’t something you like or dislike. It’s the news. The private sector can only provide what people want. It cannot provide anything even approaching “neutral” because by the nature of private enterprise, it aims to entertain. Why do we even pay the 10% for NPR anyway, right? Some rich bastard will pay the rest, right? I’m sick of this thinking. In America today we throw our anger and fear at rich people. We’ll tax them for their greed and ask them for handouts for everything else. That’s not the answer. That 10% represents the amount we all pay for something approaching neutral.

Anyone who thinks the news sections of NPR are biased are more sensitive than me. The BBC? Yes, they’re shills for the Palestine lobby. No doubt. NPR? No. This obsession with how biased NPR is stems not from the content but from the people. It’s true that conservatives seem to be lacking in main-stream journalism but that’s not my problem. They should sign up. But if they want to start reporting on things, which are totally untrue, then goodbye. NPR is not a place fo Rachel Maddow or her dyke cronies. And it sure as hell ain’t for Larry Kudlow and his army of Laffer lobbyists. Nor for Neil Cavuto or any of the Ailes Alliance. In the scheme of things, it does a good job.

And do you know what else? They provide interesting cultural programming. I know that there are laws and regulations about how the federal monies are spent but I also want to say that even if the feds aren’t paying for Fresh Air, it’s a good program. I know I sound like an elitist (because I am). But I like long interviews. You learn more. There are no sound bites. You’re learning something interesting.

NPR shouldn’t be super popular. Or profitable. It’s a public good! We need it for information. It helps us understand the world. In the old timey days the networks made profit on their entertainment to pay for their non-profit-making news. And the news was better. There are only tiny vestiges left. Meet the Press being one. This show is awful. It’s terrible programming. But you learn something. It’s a space for fucking dialogue.

This post is too long now but lemme say this. The free market is not some sick puppy who needs our help. The free market is the 800 pound gorilla. It’s the finest thing ever imagined. So strong and beautiful. It cannot be stopped. There’s no reason to defend it. But there are some things that this gorilla cannot do. It cannot provide us public roads, public education, or public radio. Before we go about slashing all that, let’s look elsewhere.

But there are problems with this theory.

In the United States we have instituted laws, which stop free markets from functioning. Yes, it’s true that some of these impediments are things like excise taxes, tariffs, and corporate taxation. All of these impose market distortions.

There are other, more insidious factors as well.

Since I’m not a lawyer or philosopher I will focus on the most egregious.

Access. It’s critical that large market-movers and small individuals have access to markets. Advantages for large entities are economies of scale and a concentration of expertise to make good decisions. Individuals are more nimble and tend to be more willing to take risks. However, in the United States not everyone has equal access. I read a few years back that the NYSE was going to become an all-computer operation. The trading floor would become virtual like the NASDAQ and others. Anyway, the computers for the NYSE were going to be built in New Jersey (Connecticut should have done a better job at luring them here- hehe). Investment Banks then began to scramble. They wanted offices as physically close to the computers as possible. This seems counterintuitive since the trading was virtual. However, because light doest not travel instantaneously (and internet traffic isn’t all fiber anyway), closeness to the servers allows a bank to make decisions microseconds faster than competitors.

Not to fulfill stereotypes, but Goldman Sachs was able to procure the best office space. Therefore they have better access to the stocks than even RBS, who might be a few doors down. What’s happening is that banks are making trades millions of times a day to make 1 cent profit per stock. If they sell a billion stocks each at 1 cent profit they can make millions of profit per day. The individual investor cannot do this because he does not have access to the up-to-date trading information. By the time he executes a trade, the stock has fallen or risen by 2 cents anyway (or more).

To me, this seems wrong. I’m all about investment banks. Bring together smart people and make decisions that no one else has the resources to do or which others don’t have the expertise to do. But this is a scam. To make millions off of 1 cent profit because you’re located closer to the servers?

That’s not a free market.

Information: the free market depends on the fact that everyone has access to the same information. It’s why we have Amazon Apps on our phones. We can go to Best Buy and say that we won’t pay their outrageous price because it’s cheaper online! But most information is not accessible. And if it is, it’s totally opaque. The obvious example are the famous collateralized debt obligations or CDO’s. These lovely guys were imaginary bits of mortgages all shoved together so spread risk. But the CDO’s weren’t actually the mortgages. They were just derivatives of the actual mortgages. And if that wasn’t complicated enough, the way that they were packaged was so complicated that bank CEO’s didn’t even understand them (let alone government regulators).

So we had CDO’s, which no one truly understood, being traded for hundreds of billions of dollars. Further, banks who held these securities weren’t sure of what they were worth so they hid them on their balance sheets. Indeed once people realized that there wasn’t adequate information about these CDO’s… well, you know what happened.

Information is critical. And if there are unknowns, that must be understood. There’s a reason we have Angel investors. They put money into ideas, which really have no proven value or profit. Venture Capital tends to invest only when more things are known and there is more likelihood of possible success. And 401k’s and other retirement funds tend to invest in boring mutual funds because more information is known and they tend to never truly beat or lose to the market average.

Once we have staid retirement funds putting money into securities, which are unknown we have a problem.

Actually the problem is far deeper than this. There is an access-to-information problem as well because much of the information, which banks have is quite expensive and technical. In a true free-market, individuals would have some means by which to use these fancy documents (though charging for them may be alright).

Finally, Education and Failure: Unfortunately in the United States, we have a lack of education. As a result, many people cannot consider the higher issues involved in investing. Indeed most people don’t have extra money to invest. Rent, utilities, food, and clothing eats up a large percentage of the money. Also, most Americans have not attended university. A free market depends that all the players start out with some degree of know-how. Some may be more talented than others but they have similar knowledge. In this country, that is not true.

Further, say I am worth $10 million and I lose $9 million because of a bad investment. I pay no taxes on these losses. I’m left with $1 million. In America today, $1 million is enough to clothe, feed, house, and protect a rather large family for some time and to start rebuilding and taking new risks. Now, say I am worth $10 thousand and lose $9 thousand. $1 thousand is not enough for such an endeavor. As such, while the free-market means that risks sometimes turn out poorly, it also means that some people will never take the risks. The costs are too high.

I want to say that I’m not one to support vast “social welfare” programs in as much as they are “the right thing to do”. But I will say this. A dynamic culture depends that risks be rewarded but failure is not an end-game. People must be given the proper tools to compete and failures must be hard but not life-ending.

I propose no solutions.

I believe firmly in the free-market. Distortions from government and elsewhere are a great evil of our time.

But a free market we do not have. There is work to do.

But for some issues, a blog is the only logical place to write things down.

When I was a freshmen in college I came in with all kinds of notions about what my life would be about. At the time I was very enmeshed in French existentialism. More specifically, 20th century authors and their works. Looking back, my interest stemmed more from my own questions about existence than any true academic interest.

But what I convinced myself of (at the time) was that any hobby I might have. Any personal interest or goal that I felt should be completely separate from my career goals. This process was slow and subtle.

I was lucky enough to live in a dorm that was generally sober, very diverse, well-read, and extremely hard-working. In any conversation I found myself constantly out-gunned. My peers knew more than I did about philosophy. They took me down. I realized that while I was interested in existentialism, the process of becoming an expert in it would be no fun at all and it would ruin the entire enjoyment that I got from reading and thinking.

This was a very sad outcome. A persons work should be derived from what he loves. It’s true, I didn’t know a lot. But I had a lot of love for the topic (at the time).

As readers of this blog (all 2 people) will no-doubt understand I spend much of my intellectual energy consumed with US Policy questions (particularly those related to domestic spending and economic reasoning). Off of the blog I enjoy following the debates on the hill and I even “watch C-SPAN so you don’t have to“.

I certainly have my own agenda. I believe that individuals have freedom and responsibility. This should be acknowledged. I also believe that the only way to reach this goal is to educate individuals so that they may have the necessary information in order to make informed decisions.

But I am not “partisan”. Nor am I beholden to one school of thought. I understand that complexity exists in the various problems we face. I have no interest in belittling these problems down to sound-bytes. I want to dig in and carve out some useful solutions.

But what is this post all about anyway?

I’m beginning to realize that my personal interests ought to inform my career. Healthcare and its’ derivates are in my blood. But the practice of medicine is becoming less and less alluring to me. I have interests in what goes on behind the scenes. The way our system is structured, paid for, managed, and delivered.

I used to believe that my interests were just silly fantasies separate from my work. But as I age I realize that my interests ought to take center stage. They cannot be tossed aside. That’s not a life I can live.

These are troubling and scary times.

Change is afoot.