A Fairness Quiz

February 12, 2012 By Leave a Comment

The Wall Street Journal’s Stephen Moore wrote an OpEd this week that posed a number of questions on fairness to President Obama.  While I’m not sure Obama deserves to be held accountable for each of them, I appreciate the general tenor of the questioning, as it shines a light on the question of fairness from the “other” side of the debate.

Here are a couple of Moore’s questions to wet your whistle:

Is it fair that the richest 10% of Americans shoulder a higher share of their country’s income-tax burden than do the richest 10% in every other industrialized nation, including socialist Sweden?

Is it fair that American corporations pay the highest statutory corporate tax rate of all other industrialized nations but Japan, which cuts its rate on April 1?

Is it fair that Americans who build a family business, hire workers, reinvest and save their money—paying a lifetime of federal, state and local taxes often climbing into the millions of dollars—must then pay an additional estate tax of 35% (and as much as 55% when the law changes next year) when they die, rather than passing that money onto their loved ones?

Filed Under: Finance, Politics Tagged With: ,

Bill Maher And His Braindead Megaphone

January 30, 2012 By Leave a Comment

I enjoy Bill Maher, host of HBO’s weekly roundtable, Real Time with Bill Maher.  Granted, I find his standup act magnificently unfunny.  But he’s an entertaining guy who (usually) has interesting things to say about the world.  His New Rules segment is often hilarious and his desire to bring together competing views for debate resonates with me.  Being a fellow atheist, I particularly enjoy his witty – and very fierce – takedowns of organized religion.  And I like the fact that he operates in fearless fashion, flying plenty close to the sun with his social commentary.  His political incorrectness makes him appear to exist outside of the media mainstream.  This is all very refreshing to me.

However, there are a number of things that have grown increasingly bothersome with Maher.  First is the guy’s breathtaking arrogance.  At first, I found this attribute charming.  After all, it’s almost a prerequisite for agent provocateurs, which is very much what Maher strives to be.  But watching him get annoyed at his audience for not laughing at his extremely unfunny jokes is annoying.  If you ever disagree with him, you’re not only wrong but you’re stupid.  And when his guests punch back at him, he clearly gets his feathers ruffled.  It’s never fun when someone can dish it out but not take it back.  Some self-effacement – or simple open-mindedness – would help immensely in Maher’s case.

Second is his intense partisanship.  For someone who strikes me as perfectly capable of independent thought, he toes the liberal line with the best of them.  In fact, I can’t think of a single issue where Maher deviates from the liberal playbook.  Given his feistiness, it would be fun to watch him disagree with his own party from time to time.  And I’m pretty sure it would add to his legitimacy as a commentator.  Instead, the guy is a walking billboard for all causes liberal.

This is loosely related to my third gripe, which is that I lose significant love for the man when he takes on the financial topics of the day.  Not only does he tend to speak with authority on topics about which he clearly knows very little (more on that later), but he exhibits a degree of hypocrisy that unfortunately has come to characterize much of Hollywood.  That is, Maher spends a fair amount of time on his show demeaning wealth accumulation and lamenting the inequality that exists today.  This most often involves wholesale bashing of everything tied to Wall Street as well as the obligatory complaint about how CEOs make multiples more than their average employees.  In Maher’s case, this is coming from a single man with a net worth of $15-$25 million (per various Google estimates) who lives in a 6,000 square foot home in a 2.5-acre Beverly Hills compound.  (I’d love to know what he makes relative to an HBO stagehand and whether he thinks that multiple is justified.)  Ever the environmentalist, his financial hypocrisy is compounded by the fact that he owns two cars and – at least occasionally – flies private (as Ann Coulter cleverly pointed out on one of his shows).

As many liberals who haven’t made their fortunes in finance do, Maher implicitly draws a distinction between well-earned riches and ill-earned ones.  Apparently, by their calculus, it’s perfectly cool for actors and comedians to make millions of dollars.  It might also be OK if you make computers.  Or are a politician.  But if you work in finance and happen to have made a lot of money doing it, you are immediately assumed less worthy of your money.  In their world, some types of income are better earned than others.  Apparently, robbing disappointed moviegoers of $20+ (or $50+ in the case of Maher’s standup) and hours of their time in the quest of padding their own pockets is totally legit.  But going to business school and becoming well-versed in the vagaries of corporate finance is not.

Maybe it’s cool in an aloof kind of way to willfully embrace their cognitive dissonance.  Or maybe there’s an insecurity that belies their apparent doublethink, something Drew Carey once summed up nicely:

Hollywood people are filled with guilt: white guilt, liberal guilt, money guilt. They feel bad that they’re so rich, they feel they don’t work that much for all that money – and they don’t, for the amount of money they make.

Which brings me to the crux of my post.  During his New Rules conclusion last week, Maher decided to take sanctimonious aim at Mitt Romney.  As can be seen in the above clip, Maher attempted to take Romney to task for his moneymaking past at Bain Capital.  Specifically, he seemed most concerned with how Romney made his money rather than the fact that he made any at all.  Maher led off the diatribe with the following:

You know, venture capitalists are not creators.  They’re businessmen who find weak companies and prey on them.

What Maher – and his staff of writers – did in this segment was demonstrate an ignorance of basic finance.  It’s not just worrisome that Maher apparently gets paid to spread untruths.  It’s also dangerous because I’m guessing that many in his audience (which must number in the millions) took his statement as gospel and repeated it to their friends and coworkers, creating an echo chamber that spouts ignorance on the topic of venture capitalism.

By the way, I was already annoyed before we got to this point in his show.  Previously in his New Rules segment, Maher featured Apple, Ford, and Disney as examples of companies started by people who created products, “something they made besides money”.  This, according to Maher, stood in stark contrast to Romney and his Bain colleagues, whose professional goals in life are to perform the economic equivalent of rape and pillage.  Let’s ignore the fact that Maher, as a comedian, also doesn’t make anything tangible for a living – and that 99.9% of all entrepreneurs are in the game to make money (Jobs, Ford, and Disney included) – and focus instead on the fundamental misunderstanding of venture capitalism that Maher displayed.

His first mistake was a knee-jerk one that many liberal pundits commit, which is to automatically assume that private equity is the manifestation of economic evil.  In reality, private equity (broadly-defined) plays a critical role in capitalism.  Not being an expert on the topic, I’ll defer instead to someone who is for a better explanation of private equity’s role.  Below is a quote from Jonathan Macey, professor of corporate finance at Yale Law School, from a recent WSJ OpEd in which he lamented the attacks on private equity in the Republican primaries:

This is anticapitalist claptrap. Private-equity firms make significant investments in companies, mainly U.S. companies. Most of their investments are in companies that underperform industry peers. Frequently these firms are on the brink of failure. Because private-equity firms are, by definition, equity investors, they make money only if they improve the performance of their companies. Private equity is last in line to be paid in case of insolvency. Private-equity firms don’t make a profit unless their companies can meet their obligations to workers and other creditors. The companies in which private-equity investors are able to turn a profit generally grow, rather than shrink. This is because the preferred “exit strategy” by which private-equity firms profit is to take the private companies in which they invest and enable them to go public and sell shares that will help the company grow even stronger. As for turnaround success stories, Continental Airlines, Orbitz and Snapple have all benefitted at some time from private-equity investment.

Maher’s second mistake lay in his failure to understand what it means to be a venture capitalist.  By labeling Romney and his colleagues as venture capitalists, Maher conflated venture capitalism with private equity writ large.  In reality, venture capitalism is a subset of private equity in the same way that a journalist belongs to the broader category of “writer”.  Included under the umbrella of private equity are several strategies, including leveraged buyouts (“LBOs”), distressed investing, growth (or acceleration) capital, and venture capital. To give Maher and his liberal peers the benefit of the doubt, we can assume that the private equity practice they disdain is the much-maligned LBO.  Among other things, the practice involves using a company’s assets as collateral to borrow large sums of money in order to effect a buyout.  Once in control, private equity firms generally seek to improve the financial performance of the acquired company, which often includes significant restructuring as companies rationalize their business models.  This can involve the shutdown of entire business units and the loss of jobs.  Some might call this callous and unfair.  Others might say such creative destruction forces companies to adapt or die in the face of escalating competition, leaving those left standing much better suited for survival.  Whatever the case, automatically assuming that all such transactions are bad for society is intellectually lazy.  LBOs can have outcomes both good (Harley-Davidson, Viacom) and bad (Regal Cinemas, Federated Department Stores).  And, sadly, it does allow room for certain financial reengineering that can lead to ill-gotten gains for some.  But the practice plays a necessary role in capitalism.  If it didn’t, it wouldn’t exist, for capitalism is among the most lethal and efficient self-correcting forces on the planet.

But let’s chat more about what it is that venture capitalism actually does.  In a nutshell, it provides young, cash-strapped companies with the funding needed to realize their visions.  So while they might not create anything tangible per se, venture capitalists most certainly provide the funding needed for companies to go out and make things.  Say, for example, a young programming whizkid (we’ll call him Mark) comes up with an idea to revolutionize social networking and needs money to support his new website.  Mark might go to a venture capital firm, someone like Accel Partners, and pitch his idea with the hope that it likes what he has to say and is willing to back him.  Maybe Accel gives the young Mark $12 million to make his dream a reality in exchange for an equity stake in his venture.  And maybe, seven years later, his idea becomes a $100 billion IPO that sees both Mark and Accel grow fabulously rich.  That, my friends, is the most successful venture capital story ever told.

Funnily enough, some of Maher’s own examples help refute his argument.  In its early days, Apple benefited greatly from the funding provided by venture capital firm Sequoia Capital (whose credits also include companies like Google,  Electronic Arts, Funny or Die, LinkedIn, and YouTube, to name a few).  Walt Disney was able to cobble together enough friends and family money to form the company that would go on to bring us Mickey Mouse and Snow White.  While Disney didn’t benefit directly from venture capitalism in its early days, the company did come to appreciate the beneficence of the practice since it now has its own venture capital unit, Steamboat Ventures.  Henry Ford didn’t rely on formal venture capital in founding Ford Motor Compnay, but he did succeed with the help of a handful of “angel investors” who provided him with the necessary capital to build his Model T.  (Note: Angel investors are basically venture capitalists who operate in more independent fashion on a smaller and less formal basis).

You see, venture capitalism is just one example of how Wall Street performs a crucial role in our society.  Sure, there are terrible misdeeds and injustices that occur, as with any industry.  But there isn’t a more effective form of capital formation and allocation on the planet.

For someone so enamored with reason in his vehement anti-religiosity, Maher can be maddeningly unreasonable when it comes to all matters economic.  I can understand why you get that with the likes of MSNBC, a company that, as a matter of existential necessity, chose to follow Fox News down the rabbit hole of overt bias.  But I’ve come to expect better from Maher, so consider me disappointed.

By the way, it’s worth noting that, while at Bain Capital, Mitt Romney was involved not just in straight LBO deals but also venture and growth capital ones, including with companies like Staples and Domino’s Pizza.

Filed Under: Comedy, Finance, Media, TV Tagged With: , , ,

Vacation In Retrospect

January 16, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Lizzi and I returned yesterday from a week’s vacation.  Our time away was mostly spent in Phoenix and Boulder, punctuated by quick trips to Tucson and Breckenridge.  Though the comforts of home are always easily greeted, the trip was an overall joy, save for the occasional bed bug attack and gradual loss of sanity arising from endless packing and unpacking.

In Phoenix, we spent most of our time catching up with my family.  This involved plenty of eating (La Grande Orange was tops for brunch and dinner at ZuZu in the Hotel Valley Ho wasn’t too shabby), a quick trip to Tucson for a tour of the University of Arizona with my little brother (lunch at Pasco Kitchen was fantastic), a brisk hike up Piestewa Peak, and your standard moments of familial annoyance.  There was also, of course, the obligatory philosophical debate with grandma.  The impetus being that I promised to read her book on cosmic consciousness if she would promise to read my blog, which I’m pretty sure she considers heretic crap.  What followed was a revelation that grandma, ever the mystic, exists in the fourth dimension.  This makes it hard for her to communicate with spiritual infants who flounder aimlessly in 3D.  My inquiries into how she graduated to 4D and who had decision-making authority to grant her such access were met with agitation.  I therefore chose to bite my tongue and allow grandma her moment of spiritual condescension.  Though we disagree wholeheartedly on many topics, I love grandma for her verve…and for the inspiration she provides a certain atheist blogger.

We also enjoyed making fun of “the best boutique hotel” in Phoenix, The Clarendon.  The “best of” moniker is in quotations since it appears to be self-proclaimed (the “rewards” section on its website is mysteriously inoperable), kind of like how millions of coffee shops across the U.S. lay claim to the world’s best coffee.  (A visit to the hotel’s website also reminds me that I should hold in suspicion any company whose web address ends in .net)  Our stay started out strange enough.  Upon entering the lobby (situated more as a hallway entrance), I was immediately overcome by the feeling of shadiness.  It’s hard to describe why but let’s just say that I wouldn’t be surprised if there were multiple drug deals going down in the dark recesses of the hotel’s general areas.  Though plenty friendly, the lady behind the counter spent an inordinate period of time explaining to us the very basic rules of hotel-staying.  (“Yes, we’re well aware of all that, this not being our first rodeo.”)  And she was infused with a special sense of pride given her role as keeper of the snacks (these were free, she’d have us know, several times over).  She also made us aware that those snacks would for the evening be delivered by her teenage daughter, who clearly had nothing better to do over her winter break than to accompany her mother on the graveyard shift.  This was as depressing as it was strange.

Once in our room, we were entertained by the overbearing scent of cheap air freshener, the blaring of an alarm from across the hall that was apparently set for 10 PM everyday, and a woeful attempt at art house decor.  The bathroom was impossibly small, a situation made funnier by the fact that the faucet would only run cold unless the shower was turned on hot at the same time.  On our trips to the elevator we had plenty of time to observe the pool scene since the elevator took twelve minutes to navigate four floors.  The pool was set at the bottom of the hotel’s open air atrium, giving the place a seedy motel feel.  This picture was made complete by the invariable sight of a floating, mustachioed man made buoyant by generous amounts of excess fat…nursing a beer…at 9:30 in the morning.  On vacation, this is an acceptable – if not encouraged – move.  But it was being executed with a level of nonchalance indicative of standard procedure rather than occasional indulgence.  The image of this man perfectly encapsulates the Clarendon experience, not to mention the bed bug attack that Lizzi is pretty sure occurred during the final night of our stay.

Once in Boulder, we were granted a reprieve in both company and accommodation.  Comfortably ensconced in the tasteful St. Julien Hotel, we spent most of our stay getting caught up with some very dear friends, two of whom were in town from Sydney and one of whom now calls the Denver area home.  The former group represents for us the highlight of our Tokyo stay while the latter gentleman is among the funniest people I know.  He’s the kind of guy who routinely turns otherwise problematic situations into cause for uproarious laughter.  For example, having recently encountered some problems with Lasik surgery, he greets the staff upon his (many) follow-up trips to the eye clinic by playfully pointing out the nurse “responsible” for the mishap (“There she is!  That’s the one!”, delivered with a shit-eating grin in a manner designed to exact maximum discomfort).  He then proceeds to read a very clear and very large letter “P” during the eye exam as a “4″.  Perplexed, the nurse explains that he should be seeing letters.  To this my friend replies, “Then why are you putting numbers up there?!”.

Boulder is a great little spot, boasting lots of cool shops and great restaurants (I recommend Salt and Kitchen).  Being a college town, it’s a blue dot in the middle of a red state.  It had a sort of Bohemian vibe to it, reminding me slightly of Berkeley.  Notwithstanding my fiscal conservatism, I feel awfully comfortable in these towns.  I even find the preponderance of street performers and beggars charming.  One young lady had the word “love” partially spelled out with loose change and would ask passers-by if they’d help her make love on the sidewalk.  I found this clever, which suggests to me that my socially liberal tendencies win out in the end.  Or maybe I’m just open-minded and intellectually flexible, as evidenced by my willingness to visit Lefthand Books and leaf through literature celebrating Che, anarchism, and collectivism.  Of course, I also chuckled at the notion that the store exists through the efforts of volunteers that are ironically in short supply (judging by various announcements on its website and doorway).

We left Boulder for a day-and-a-half to hit the slopes in Breckenridge, about a 90-minute drive west.  Thanks to some pretty heavy snowfall during the drive out, our journey was a rather precarious one that left me thankful we opted for the Subaru Outback as our rental.  Given the poorly marked roads, mountainside curves, and absence of artificial lighting, I wouldn’t be surprised if Colorado leads the U.S. in highway fatalities.  Having left in the early afternoon, we made it to Breckenridge with just enough time to catch about an hour’s worth of skiing.  This being my first time on skis, I acquitted myself rather well and managed to feel moderately comfortable by hour’s end.  This gave me a false sense of confidence heading into the next morning when I felt compelled to follow our group of advanced-skier friends along the Blue route to meet up with some other friends at One Ski Hill on Peak 8 (we were coming from the Hyatt on Peak 9).  I somehow managed to survive the trek though not without the occasional face plant.  One wipeout was particularly good, falling just short of a full yardsale (I learned that this is ski slang for a crash involving the loss of both skis, poles, goggles, gloves, and hat).  On this particular fall, I managed to shed both skis along with my pride.  For some reason, my instincts force me to always cut left when attempting to stop (a technique I picked up while watching skiing on television).  This is perhaps because I’m right-handed and therefore have more confidence in my right foot/leg serving as the brake.  I happened to arrive at this attempted stop at what I perceived as being breakneck speed, a term for which I’ve developed a newfound appreciation.  Upon cutting to my usual left, I immediately lost the plot.  My body’s momentum kept going downhill while my feet tried to stay planted at an angle.  Physics being what they are, my feet lost that battle, which caused me to somersault uncontrollably a solid 15-20 feet as my skis quickly departed from my boots.  My head snapped back pretty violently when I hit the ground (thank you, helmet) and I was certain that I bit off the front half of my tongue (luckily that was not the case).  As fate would have it, this all occurred in front of our friends, all of whom were parked at the bottom of the hill graciously waiting for the idiot beginner in the group to catch up.  I figured the least I could do was reward their patience with a first-rate wipeout.

I left Breckenridge with only a moderate appreciation for skiing.  It is plenty fun as an activity but the build-up is draining.  First, you spend lots of money on gear (gloves, goggles, coat, pants, socks, long underwear, hat, etc.).  Then you pack all that gear into an overstuffed bag and head for the airport.  Then you drive a couple hours from the airport to the resort.  Then you spend more money renting skis, boots, helmets, etc.  Then you spend fifteen minutes putting on all that gear.  Then you waddle out to the nearest ticket office and spend silly money for a day pass.  Then you find the nearest gondola, which takes you ten minutes up the hill where you then wait in line for another ski lift to take you to some such run or another.  When you’re finally at the top, you spend a few minutes actually skiing before waiting another 10-15 minutes in line for another lift that will take you 10 minutes up the hill again for another 3-5 minutes worth of skiing.  For me, I didn’t derive enough utility out of the skiing itself to justify the premium spent in time and money.  I’m told the above frustrations are a function of choosing a popular destination like Breckenridge.  In which case, I look forward to visiting a less cumbersome spot in the future.  For her part, Lizzi did great and managed to escape the mountains with nary a spill.  And I’m pretty sure she got a kick out of my wipeouts, so I suspect her experience was more of a net positive.

I got a fair amount of reading done over the break.  On our flight out to Phoenix, I read “Farther Away“, Jonathan Franzen’s fantastic contribution to the New Yorker from last April.  In it, Franzen remembers his old friend, David Foster Wallace, while ruminating on Robinson Crusoe and the concept of solitude during a trek to one of the world’s most remote islands.  This notion of distraction-free individuality providing fertile ground for creativity has long been espoused by Franzen, whose collection of personal essays is entitled How To Be Alone and whose rules for writing include “It’s doubtful that anyone with an internet connection at his workplace is writing good fiction.”  It just so happens that my Sunday NY Times greeted my return with an OpEd written by Susan Cain about the “Rise of the New Groupthink“.  Among other things, the article talks about how people are more creative when they are alone and free from interruption, that “solitude is a catalyst to innovation” and that “we’re often so dazzled by charisma that we overlook the quiet part of the creative process.”  So the fact that I usually blog with the television on, music in the background, and dozens of open web pages probably explains why my writing is such shit.

Despite my mediocrity, I intend to write a book this year, so the above resonates with me as I attempt to crystallize my own thoughts on the creative process.  Seeking inspiration during our trip, I sequestered myself away in the Boulder Bookstore for a couple of hours one day.  I spent my time there reading snippets of Franzen, Wallace, Salinger, Bolano, Pynchon, Fitzgerald, Heller, Mitchell, and Klosterman.  An eclectic collection of voices, I was looking for help in understanding tone and rhythm, whether in essay or novel form.  I was also secretly hoping that surrounding myself with such genius would somehow imbue me with magical abilities of my own.  But instead of becoming more learned and inspired, I left feeling somewhat defeated.  Reading the work of these brilliant writers brought about a wave of insecurity in my own abilities.  How could I possibly have anything to add to a world already gifted with such talent?  This feeling of desperation lasted about an hour before I convinced myself that what I just did was akin to an aspiring singer listening to Ray LaMontagne or Aretha Franklin and deciding to pack it in.  When instead they should be looking to Brittany Spears as inspiration.  If the entertainment industry has taught us anything, it’s that mediocrity is often handsomely rewarded.  For every Louis C.K., there’s a Dane Cook.  For every Conan O’Brien, there’s a George Lopez.  For every Bill Clinton, there’s a Barack Obama.  (Zing!)

While perusing the bookshelves I came across the author George Saunders, about whom I vaguely recall hearing in the past.  I picked up The Brief and Frightening Reign of Phil and read it on the flight back to Chicago, along with a couple of chapters from his collected essays, The Braindead Megaphone.  Phil was fun as a quirky, Vonnegutesque form of social commentary.  But I’m enjoying more his collection of essays.  The first story in Braindead is where the book takes its name.  It’s a brilliant treatise on today’s media and echoes many of my own sentiments on the topic (save for the leftward lean).  This is something I’ve blogged about in the past and come increasingly close to doing again with each viewing of those sanctimonious “Lean Forward” ads on MSNBC.

But if we define Megaphone as the composite of hundreds of voices we hear each day that come to us from people we don’t know, via high-tech sources, it’s clear that a significant and ascendant component of that voice has become bottom-dwelling, shrill, incurious, ranting, and agenda-driven.  It strives to antagonize us, make us feel anxious, ineffective, and alone; convince us that the world is full of enemies and of people stupider and less agreeable than ourselves…

In a time of danger, the person sounding the paranoid continual alarm will eventually be right.  A voice arguing for our complete rightness and the complete wrongness of our enemies, a voice constantly broadening the definition of ‘enemy’, relieves us of the burden of living with ambiguity.

I also managed to read some of Jonathan Safran Foer’s Eating Animals, which did its part in keeping me on the road towards a plant-based diet. By the way, I had a partner in all this reading, as Lizzi could be spotted at any given time curled up with her Kindle devouring The Hunger Games trilogy.

So here I sit, the evening before my return to the office, feeling less stoked than usual about getting back to work after a long break.  Unless there’s a huge market for mediocre writing out there, this better be a fleeting feeling.

Filed Under: Books, Media, Religion, Travel Tagged With: , , , , ,

Slice Of Awesome

January 6, 2012 By 1 Comment

I’ve been meaning to post this one for a while.  As my friends call it, a classic case of “face-hugging”.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Reflections and Projections

January 3, 2012 By Leave a Comment

2011 was an eventful year for me.  It was my first full year back from Tokyo, where events in March reminded me that timing is everything…and that Earth > man.  My transition back into American life was seamless, as evidenced by my willingness to spend money on stupid things and eat lots of meat.  That was until about November, when viewings of various documentaries convinced me that eating meat actually is kinda gross, and a reading of Steve Jobs’ life reminded me that less can indeed be more.  Who knows whether I’ll stick with it but the early results look promising.

I earned an MBA and ran a marathon during the year, which I think officially qualifies me as an A-type personality.  This puts me in rarefied air since 3% of the U.S. population has an MBA and 1% has run a marathon.  According to my calculations, that makes me one of sixteen people in the country to have done both, which proves that I’m both unique and good at imaginary math.  Both accomplishments involved discipline and constant reminders that it would all be worth it in the end.  Conventional wisdom suggests that I should be smarter and fitter as a result.  Instead, I feel broker and more broken.  These are the practical outcomes of actually paying for an MBA and running hundreds of miles over the course of a few months.  Having people assume that you’re smart is expensive.  And pounding your joints for miles on end is painful.  Would I ever do both again?  No.  Am I glad I did them?  Yes.  Does that make me a walking contradiction?  Perhaps.  Is my beard itching me as I write this?  You betcha.

On balance, I’d characterize 2011 as a generally good year.  Sure, my investment portfolio succumbed to the gyrations of a schizophrenic market, my head ceded more space to my scalp, and poor Kim Kardashian lost love as quickly as she found it.  But a year that sees Muammar Gaddafi take one in the pooper just prior to his expiration and Osama bin Laden get double-tapped by our nation’s finest is good by me.  This happiness was, of course, lessened by the deaths of the incomparable Christopher Hitchens and Steve Jobs.  And the fact that Kim Jong Il was felled by a heart attack in his sleep – when he should’ve met an end more horrific than Gaddafi’s, were justice to prevail – was disappointing.  But as the Cowboys prove, you can’t win ‘em all (or most of ‘em, for that matter).

I don’t much like New Year’s resolutions since they usually focus on bettering our lesser selves.  This involves acknowledgement of imperfection and weakness, which is never fun and not entirely relevant given that I am without fault in all respects.  But trying to be better is a dandy enough exercise – and making lists is fun – so let’s have at it.  Onward and upward, I shall endeavor to do the following in 2012:

  1. Use my iPhone more for tracking my fantasy teams than for checking work email.
  2. Finally finish a book written by Jonathan Franzen (we’ll leave David Foster Wallace for a more ambitious time).
  3. Drink less alcohol.
  4. Blog more, especially when drinking alcohol.
  5. Lessen my news consumption so as to increase my love of country.
  6. Learn to appreciate the joy of quiet (as Pico Iyer so eloquently explained in a recent OpEd, “…it’s only by having some distance from the world that you can see it whole, and understand what you should be doing with it”).
  7. Enjoy my Fall weekends more.  In other words, watch less of the Irish on Saturdays and the Cowboys on Sundays.
  8. Read more of the books that are already on my bookshelf rather than adding to them with new purchases.
  9. Finally return that voicemail that Warren Buffett left me.
  10. Write a book.  It will be about stuff.  I think you’ll like it.
Filed Under: Literature, Personal, Politics, Sports Tagged With:

Denis Leary Is A Fan Of Eddyfication

December 28, 2011 By Leave a Comment

That’s the only logical conclusion one can derive following his latest string of Tweets, which just so happens to occur within days of my post Oh, The Irony Of It All:

‘Xmas has been overtaken by consumerism.’

So says The Pope.

While sitting in a solid gold chair. Wearing red Prada shoes. In an apt. full of priceless artwork.

Who’s the patron saint of irony?

P.S. On the 0.2% chance Denis Leary ever actually reads this, I was totally kidding about that whole being a fan bit.
Filed Under: Comedy, Religion Tagged With:

Oh, The Irony Of It All

December 26, 2011 By Leave a Comment

The Pope used his Christmas Eve mass this year as yet another occasion to decry the commercialization of Christmas.  He said we should look past the “superficial glitter” of the season and instead focus on “the child in the stable in Bethlehem”.  Being a fan of all things ironic, I enjoyed that this message was being delivered by a Prada-wearing pontiff who resides over the single richest institution on the planet.  Indeed, the Catholic Church has over the ages perfected the art of many things, not least of them the ability to achieve ginormous commercial success.

Consider first the rather high likelihood that Jesus wasn’t even born on December 25.  The Bible gives no specific date of birth and descriptions of the manor scene are suggestive of Spring rather than Winter.  In those times, birthdays were less relevant than death days, so not much was made of Jesus’ birth until the church’s brain trust decided to make a play for popularity by taking on the popular pagan religions of the time (most of whom engaged in special celebrations around the time of the Winter solstice).  As church leaders debated strategies for supplanting the popular cults, they chose to wage a head-to-head battle for attention on an already established sacred date.  December 25 had long been the pagan day for celebrating the births of their own gods, but now the upstart Christians would claim that day as their own.  In a masterful twist of revisionist history – and a brilliant stroke of marketing – church leaders declared that December 25 just so happened to also be the day when their Jesus Christ was born (note this declaration was made some 400 years after Jesus’ death).  This made it easier for converts to transition to a new belief system since they were already accustomed to treating this time of year as holy.  Location, framing, and timing are crucial to the success of many businesses, something to which the early church leaders were highly attuned.

Christianity – more specifically, Catholicism – took this temporal sleight of hand and built one of the most successful commercial enterprises of all time.  It is a fact that the Vatican has amassed ungodly sums of money through centuries of force and fleecing, a wealth that is flaunted in its grandiose cathedrals and priceless art collections.  And we can be sure that churches across the globe are doing their part to grow (or at least sustain) that wealth by using the holy season to maximize their revenues through timely manipulation of spiritual heartstrings.  Marketing, positioning, branding.  These are hallmarks of any commercial pursuit.  And dare I say that the Pope and his peeps are among the savviest purveyors of their product this planet has ever seen.

Christmas can, of course, be a time for contemplation and good deeds.  And in many cases – thankfully – it is.  But it’s also a nice reminder for the realists among us that money makes the great world spin.  For money is the root of all power, a fact easily observable in the spheres of finance, entertainment, politics, education, sports, and – yes – religion.  The reality is the consumerism that the Pope pretends to discourage is the very lifeblood of his existence.  The church needs its parishioners to have disposable income so that they can be in a position to tithe (and consume goodwill).  This requires some degree of economic growth in a particular society, which is dependent upon consumption.  The more people consume, the more economic activity there is.  The more economic activity there is, the more earnings there are for companies to distribute as income.  The more income there is, the more donations the church can hope to receive.  On a truly spiritual level, I’d bet that the Pope would prefer that everyone sat around praying, being thankful, and thinking about doing good deeds.  But on a practical level, you can be your bottom dollar that the Christmas his church really wants is precisely the one that it currently has.

Speaking of irony, someone who enjoyed such incongruities was Christopher Hitchens, who sadly lost his battle with esophageal cancer last week.  He would’ve found ironic the fact that he left this world just days before the death of one of history’s most detestable human beings, Kim Jong Il.  For Hitch was an opponent of many things, not least of which included totalitarianism and dogma of any stripe, making him an enemy of despots and religious zealots the world over.  Some might paint his “militant” atheism as being evidence of his own dogmatism but that would miss the point.  While his distaste for religion undoubtedly served to nurture his own penchant for contrarianism (not to mention a good fight), his spiritual denials had more to do with rejecting the obsequiousness that comes with blind devotion to any cause or person.  He despised cults of personality and the mass suffering they had the potential to produce.  He detested the rejection of reason that is a prerequisite for faith.  His disappointment in humanity was palpable whenever he contemplated the killing done in religion’s name.  His battle wasn’t with the religious per se but with the hypocrisy, violence, and disingenuousness that religion often begets.  And while some claim that his outspoken assault on religion was a war on belief writ large (making him as much the fundamentalist as his opponents), Hitch was no more a proselytizer of atheism than a science professor is an advocate for the scientific method.  His erudition made it easy to maintain courage in his convictions, and watching him dismantle arguments (with spoken or written word) was truly a sight to behold.  He was a writer, thinker, and agent provocateur of the highest order.  It’s easy to conclude that the world is a much better place without the likes of Kim Jong Il in it.  The same most definitely cannot be said about Hitch.  From his loss, nothing is to be gained.

Filed Under: Politics, Religion Tagged With: , , ,

Slice Of Awesome

December 14, 2011 By 1 Comment

Indiana’s last second game winner against Kentucky this past weekend, set to the music of “Hoosiers”.  Brilliant.

Filed Under: Awesome, Sports Tagged With: , ,

Undecided About God

December 11, 2011 By 1 Comment

I came across an interesting piece on religion in today’s NY Times.  It speaks to the growing number of Americans who don’t identify with a particular religion, a group otherwise known as the “Nones”.  Nones account for 12% of the U.S. population and trends suggest that their numbers are growing.  Like me, a portion of that demographic falls into the non-believer category; however, a much larger percentage believes in a god but simply eschews the monstrosity that is organized religion.

The article is a rather interesting, even-handed piece that got this particular atheist’s wheels turning.  That’s not to say it did anything to sway my own opinion on the topic, but it’s nice to see someone approach the topic in such unencumbered fashion.

Nones don’t get hung up on whether a religion is “true” or not, and instead subscribe to William James’s maxim that “truth is what works.” If a certain spiritual practice makes us better people — more loving, less angry — then it is necessarily good, and by extension “true.” (We believe that G. K. Chesterton got it right when he said: “It is the test of a good religion whether you can joke about it.”)

By that measure, there is very little “good religion” out there. Put bluntly: God is not a lot of fun these days. Many of us don’t view religion so generously. All we see is an angry God. He is constantly judging and smiting, and so are his followers. No wonder so many Americans are enamored of the Dalai Lama. He laughs, often and well.

The author, a chap named Eric Weiner, hopes for the emergence of a “Steve Jobs of religion” at the end of the piece, someone who could transform our collective approach to spirituality to make it more inviting for the inquisitive and doubtful among us.  Now there’s something I could get behind!

Filed Under: Religion Tagged With: , ,

Slice Of Awesome

December 2, 2011 By Leave a Comment

The honey badger just doesn’t care…

Filed Under: Uncategorized

On Marathons, the World Series, the Ritz-Carlton, Steve Jobs, and Drive

November 28, 2011 By Leave a Comment

These past few weeks have been pretty hectic. A marathon, a heartbreaking World Series, three weeks of overseas travel, and general holiday malaise combined with downright laziness to help explain Eddyfication’s slumber. However, I’ve been itching to get back on the blogging horse for too long and a recent movie viewing spurred me to finally re-engage. Before I go into that, a couple of events deserve recounting.

First, this year’s Chicago Marathon. Despite coming down with a nasty cold two days prior, I managed to finish in 3 hours and 50 minutes, which was 20 minutes off my target pace. It was good enough to place me in the 18th percentile among all runners and 24th percentile among my cohort (males in their early 30′s). I coughed up my fair share of mucous along the way but it was the final 4-5 miles that really crushed me.  Apparently, those salt pills that I scoffed at were recommended for a reason, as the twelve pounds of banana that I consumed along the way didn’t do enough to ward off some pretty killer cramps during the home stretch.  I had to pull over to stretch away a spasm probably 15-20x during the last several miles.  And I’m pretty sure I ran the final two miles without ever actually bending my right leg for fear of inviting yet another bout of jaw-clenching misery.  But for the fact that I was surrounded by similarly-situated maniacs also on the verge of total collapse, I would’ve worried that I looked like a complete imbecile as I made my way towards the finish.  And serving as a testament to the human body’s potential, I somehow managed to sprint the final 400 meters (or at least that’s what it felt like I was doing).  As I was gliding to the finish, I was passed by another runner whose own burst of energy quite clearly surpassed my own.  However, the poor guy stumbled exhaustedly as he crossed the finish line, clumsily trying to grab anything around him for support as he collapsed in a tired heap.  Luckily, I mustered a semi-normal fist pump as I crossed the finish line and have managed to convince myself that I appeared none the worse for wear.  As if I needed reminding that the human body isn’t built for such feats, being surrounded at the finish station by a sea of EMTs and horizontal bodies either writhing in agony or completely catatonic provided a quick reality check.  Us humans are simply not meant to run 26.2 miles nonstop; therefore, not only was this my first marathon but it will also mark my last.  My bucket list has been checked.  Moving on.

Second, I got to suffer through yet another World Series loss for my hometown Texas Rangers.  At least last year the Rangers were pretty much out of it from the start against the Giants.  This year, however, we were literally one out away from a championship not once but twice and still couldn’t pull it off in the end.  I knew right when Freese performed his Game 6 heroics that the Rangers didn’t stand a chance in Game 7.  It was the type of momentum swing that doomed infamous Game 6′s of yesteryear, including the Boston Red Sox in 1986 (Billy Buckner) and the Chicago Cubs in 2003 (Steve Bartman).  I just knew the Rangers would fall flat in Game 7.  And sure enough they did.  While it’s certainly quite the accomplishment to make it to the World Series in back-to-back years, losing both times dulls the magnitude of such a feat.  I’m afraid I’m stuck with teams (like the Fighting Irish and Dallas Cowboys) that simply lack the fortitude to win consistently, especially when winning calls for showing up big in big games and making plays in crunch time.  Now excuse me while I take a break from my armchair complaining to grab another beer.

By the way, I attended Game 2 of the Series, which was pretty damn cool.  I drove down to St. Louis from Chicago with my little brother, a trip that helped me appreciate the dangers that lie hidden in the “ultimate driving experience”.  Not accustomed to opening my car up on the open road, I routinely eclipsed 100 mph without even noticing it.  (This is where the smooth driving experience that the Germans manufacture can very well spell doom.)  We stayed at the Hyatt Regency St. Louis, which is located right next to the Gateway Arch and a mere ten-minute walk from Busch Stadium.  The stadium was quite nice, a decent mix of new and old that managed to retain its classic feel.  The game itself was a defensive struggle, a nail-biter that saw the Rangers pull one out with some scrappy play in the 9th inning, providing me with the unique opportunity to annoyingly cheer on my winning team while surrounded by a sea of enemies.  Among the observations to be made during the game was the unexpected civility of the crowd, which took me by surprise until I reminded myself that we were at the World Friggin’ Series, where price discrimination self-selects a certain type of obedience among those with the means to actually attend the game in person.

Third, my travels out East were mostly par for the course.  Hong Kong was its usual hyper-consumptive and buzzy self, and my first visit to Tokyo was met with equal parts nostalgia and melancholy.  It was great to see old buds and reminisce by visiting some of our old spots.  But it was strange to be there without the full crew of friends and family.  And though Tokyo remains an awesome city with unmistakable style, I detected a sense of loss that pervaded everything around me.  Maybe it was the distinct lack of expat sightings and/or the disappearance of certain standbys (our grocery store, our Citibank ATM, etc.).  Whatever it was, something felt off.  That said, Tokyo remains as incomparable as ever.  It was great to be back and I look forward to my eventual return.

A couple of things stand out about my trip.  First, thanks to certain discounts, I had the occasion to stay at the new Ritz-Carlton Hong Kong (across the harbour in Kowloon) as well as the Ritz-Carlton Tokyo.  Having spent a solid three weeks in these hotels, I can solidly proclaim that I hate the Ritz-Carlton.  I’m guessing this only applies to the international variety, as the Ritz-Carlton Laguna Niguel is among my sentimental favorites.  But the Hong Kong and Tokyo versions are disappointing on multiple levels.  In Hong Kong, for example, you’ve got over-the-top kitschy in terms of decor and the software doesn’t match the hardware (i.e., the service offers nowhere near the polish of the structure itself).  Plus, the hotel managed to completely botch the distinction of having Asia’s highest bar (Ozone on the 118th floor), with views of Central obscured by thick plexiglass and other random objects.  The Tokyo version is exquisite in its service, location, and overall touch, but the style and ambiance don’t mesh with my own sensitivities.  It feels old and stuffy.  The lounge might very well be the most boring one in Asia and the fact that they charge $30 for admission (an invitation to complete and utter boredom) is criminal.  The place has zero vibe and the restaurants offer the unfortunate combination of mediocre taste and stratospheric expense.  It’s basically the anti-Grand Hyatt, which is just a few blocks away and worlds better in virtually every respect.

Second, I got to pass the time alone on weekends and on various bullet trains by absorbing Walter Isaacson’s biography on Steve Jobs.  At over 600 pages, it’s a rather long read but one befitting its subject.  Jobs was the foremost innovator of his generation and our world will miss his vision with a vengeance, a reality made clearer by digesting Jobs’ story.  Though good on balance, the book itself was slightly disappointing.  Isaacson glossed over a lot of competitive strategy dynamics that I would’ve like to see pursued and the work’s second half had a rushed feel to it.  That said, I still gained plenty of insight into the man and his company, enough to warrant my reading of the book a worthy pursuit.  Among the things I learned: 1) Like many geniuses, Jobs was a difficult man and tortured soul whose treatment of those around him ranged from disdain to infatuation to disinterest; 2) Jobs’ genius lay not as much in his technical know-how as in his vision for what consumers wanted before they even knew it; 3) Extreme attention to detail and slight-to-moderate levels of OCD can sometimes be a good thing for one’s professional life; 4) Jobs led a life full of contradictions, especially as it related to his Eastern spirituality and many mood swings, which made me feel better about my own inconsistencies; and 5) Jobs’ vision was all-encompassing, making him a sight to behold and a visionary in the truest sense of the word, which did a wonderful job of reminding me of my own mediocrity.  In slightly related news, I actually found myself seated near Walter Isaacson while waiting in the United Airlines lounge at Narita Airport.  He was literally sitting fifteen feet away from me, so close that I could actually hear his conversation with two Japanese colleagues.  While I contemplated saying hello, I chose instead to give the man his space (especially since I didn’t really love his book!).  What I found most surprising was the fact that he was spotted without an Apple product in sight, choosing instead to use a Blackberry and a Dell laptop.  As I tweeted upon the sighting, it was as if some sort of cosmic injustice had occurred.

Unfortunately, the journey home ended up being an eventful one, which is never a good way to describe a transcontinental flight.  Luckily, the events had more to do with the passengers than the plane itself, which is very much a good thing.  Being seated in the upper deck of a 747, I heard the overwrought grumbling of a passenger making his way up the stairs as we took to our seats upon boarding.  As he emerged from the stairs and made the turn down the aisle, I caught a solid glimpse of a man overburdened by three large carry-on bags and overcome by the effects of alcohol.  Hammered is an understatement when it comes to describing this man’s condition.  As he stumbled to his seat, flight attendants were scurrying about in an effort to assist the man with his overall situation as well as determine whether or not he was flight-worthy (wondering: what’s the air equivalent of sea legs?).  It just so happened that this winner was traveling with his wife, who I overheard claiming to be a medical doctor traveling with a husband under the influence of a sedative and “not a lick” of alcohol.  Sure thing.  The airline authorities took her story hook-line-and-sinker while the rest of us knowingly rolled our eyes at each other, assuming the worst was yet to come.  Sure as shit, just as our bird began her ascent, an awful stench slowly began to permeate the upper deck cabin and the air soon wreaked of puke.  This elicited at least one gag reflex moment from yours truly, prompting me to surf the plane’s movie selection with my shirt pulled above my nose.  Once the seatbelt sign was turned off, there was plenty of fumbling among the cabin crew and the passed-out misfit’s wife as they attempted to clean him up with plastic bags that I assume were made for the occasion.  The smell eventually abated only to be punctuated by two more puking sessions before we landed.  And I forgot to note that the guy was seated directly behind me.  This led me to a new rule: Anyone puking on a flight for reasons demonstrably attributable to alcohol should be forced to pay a $100 fine to each of the surrounding passengers within a 20-foot radius.  The airline shouldn’t take the blame as it’s quite clearly not to blame for the doofusness of its own passengers.  But the buffoon infringing on the experience of others should absolutely be penalized.

Of course, I got the chance to watch a number of films during my flights and lazy days at home.  What follows below is a breakdown of those movies, listed in no particular order:

  1. Horrible Bosses: Mostly mediocre but kinda fun. Jason Bateman was great as usual and Jennifer Aniston demonstrated some naughtiness that was pretty awesome but that dude from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia annoyed the hell out of me.
  2. Bridesmaids: Pretty funny but just OK.  Kristen Wiig was great as was Jon Hamm and Melissa McCarthy.  But I thought the whole premise was overblown.
  3. Life in a Day: A wonderfully-edited compilation of user-submitted videos from a random day in July 2010.  Beautifully original and genuine.  Produced by Ridley Scott.
  4. The Hangover Part II: Standard, mostly predictable fun that was surprisingly lame in spots.  Yet it was enjoyable all the same.  For whatever reason, I found Zach Galifianakis much funnier this time around.
  5. The Tree of Life: Brad Pitt and Sean Penn starred in this Terrence Malick production, so I figured it had to be halfway decent.  Instead, I forced myself to sit through two hours of total cluelessness (easier to do when you’re on a 15-hour flight).  I’m told Malick is a directorial genius but it’s totally lost on me.  Complete and utter WTF confusion on my part.  I have no idea what this movie was about.  A Seth Macfarlane tweet summed the film up perfectly: “My brother died. Plus, dinosaurs.”
  6. Forks Over Knives: Interesting material but poorly executed.  Still did enough to continue pushing me in the direction of a plant-based diet.
  7. Margin Call: Yet another attempt to explain the financial crisis of 2008 but this time with an impressive ensemble cast and a more informed script than most.  I liked this better than I thought I would (even though jetlag had me drifting in and out).  More even-handed than I expected and it did a particularly good job at humanizing the “other” side of the crisis (that of Wall Street).
  8. Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop: This documentary follows Conan O’Brien during his NBC-imposed one-year moratorium from television.  O’Brien’s forced time off spawned his Legally Prohibited From Being Funny On Television Tour, a traveling comedy show that made stops in 30 cities.  Being a fan of Conan, I generally enjoyed the peek behind the curtain.  However, loyal readers know that I was none too pleased with his behavior during the NBC ordeal, so I was only able to enjoy this movie so much.

The final movie that I’ll highlight is Drive.  Starring Ryan Gosling and Carey Mulligan, it’s the story of an unnamed mechanic/stunt car driver/getaway car driver who is a man of few words.  He befriends a neighbor who is a single mother (the husband is in jail) and who also happens to be of few words.  Naturally, they’re surrounded by people who are of many words and therefore seem less wholesome than they.  I spent the first part of the movie absorbing the blows of boring, predictable cheesiness because: 1) it had a Tarantinoesque art house feel to it; and 2) I knew the tone would eventually turn on a dime (thanks to some light reading on the movie beforehand).  Sure enough, it did.  And as I reflect on the film I realize more and more that I really liked it.  This will no doubt make those who watched it with me roll their eyes (I think I’m quoting Lizzi here when I say it was one of the worst movies she’s ever seen).  But the further I get away from it, the more the movie resonates.  The film’s Danish director, Nicolas Winding Refn, won Best Director honors at Cannes and even received a standing ovation, which I’m left to assume is a rare treat that must mean it was a good piece of work (granted, Cannes also gave the famed Palme d’Or to The Tree of Life, so there goes that theory).  In any event, this is one of those movies that leaves its mark in indescribable ways.  In terms of texture, style, and music, it felt to me like a weird combination of Grindhouse, Requiem for a Dream, and Punch Drunk Love.  I won’t be able to do the movie justice, so I’ll lean instead on the expertise of A.O. Scott of the NY Times, who describes Drive as the “coolest movie around”, and Peter Travers of Rolling Stone, who had this to say:

Buckle up for the existential bloodbath of Drive, a brilliant piece of nasty business that races on a B-movie track until it switches to the dizzying fuel of undiluted creativity. Damn, it’s good. You can get buzzed just from the fumes coming off this wild thing.

To wrap things up, I’ll leave you with the movie’s signature song, A Real Hero by College, which is perfect for the film as it’s as haunting as it is catchy.

Filed Under: Chicago, Japan, Literature, Movies, Music, Sports, Tech, Travel Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Random Japan

November 13, 2011 By Leave a Comment

One of the great things about being back in Tokyo is that I get to revisit some of my old haunts.  And during a walk through my former neighborhood today, I was fortunate to have yet another chance to see one of the strangest bar signs ever.  Either this bar is owned by a sarcastic atheist or someone took liberties with the translation.  Either way, it’s awesome. 

Filed Under: Japan

The Most __________ Chandelier I’ve Ever Seen

November 3, 2011 By Leave a Comment

Opulent, magnificent, and fucking ridiculous are all words that come to mind.  I’m told its perfectly suited decor for China’s nouveau riche, whose money is spent as easily as it comes.  The damn thing is probably 20-feet high…and there are two of them.  (From the Ritz Carlton Hong Kong Lounge & Bar.)

Filed Under: Travel Tagged With:

Slice Of Awesome: Explicit Edition

October 31, 2011 By Leave a Comment

Filed Under: Awesome

Quote Of The Day

October 26, 2011 By Leave a Comment

The trouble with quotes on the Internet is that it’s difficult to determine whether or not they are genuine.

- Abraham Lincoln

h/t BP

Filed Under: Misc.

Slice Of Awesome

October 26, 2011 By Leave a Comment

Filed Under: Awesome

Occupy Hollywood

October 24, 2011 By Leave a Comment

Interesting piece by Frank Bruni in today’s NY Times, which takes to task the uncomfortable hypocrisy on display when (insanely) rich entertainers consort with the Occupy Wall Street (OWS) crowd.  Though it strikes an inherently sympathetic chord for the OWS movement, I appreciated the article’s larger point: That many of the well-to-do musicians and actors lending their support (e.g., Michael Moore, Kanye West, Susan Sarandon, Alec Baldwin, etc.) are quite guilty of the “crime” that lies at the heart of the protests, which is that of benefitting from massive inequality in economic outcomes (i.e. income disparity) and/or helping to feed the machine that perpetuates said inequalities (i.e. corporations).

Entertainers are members of the well-connected economic elite against which Occupy Wall Street ostensibly rages, whether or not they want to see themselves that way. True, they’re not bundling mortgages, and they often have their extravagantly beating hearts in the right place. Many donate generously to charity. Many do remarkable good. But they nonetheless make oodles of money for themselves and for major corporations with lavishly compensated executives: the corporations that bankroll and distribute their television shows, movies, record albums and concert tours; the corporations that peddle the clothing, electronics and ever-so-important cosmetics and styling products that entertainers are paid so handsomely to model and endorse.

On a somewhat related tangent, it’s a slippery slope when one makes value judgments on the income of others and/or how those with money choose to spend it (assuming such wealth is not ill-gotten).  When it comes to this, Michael Moore is a hypocrite of monumental proportions, and it is equal parts sad and maddening to see so many on the left fall prey to the man’s totally insincere and self-serving machinations.  When I saw Moore conduct a capitalism-bashing interview from Zuccotti Park with hoards of OWS supporters behind him, I wanted to jump through the screen and slap some sense into the throng.  Don’t they realize that his presence there is part of a promotional calculus that serves to brandish Moore’s self-fashioned image as a populist?  When in reality the man is a populist only to the extent that it facilitates his ability to be a capitalist (i.e., make more money)? Side note: According to most reports, Moore’s estimated net worth is $50 million, which comfortably places him within the top 1% of Americans singled out by OWS as the enemy.

When I think of Michael Moore and his ilk, with all their faux (or simply misguided) anti-capitalist pulpit-pounding, I can’t help but be reminded of the corrupt politician from Martin Scorsese’s Gangs of New York whose populist rhetoric – which underpinned his own political survival – helped fuel the fire of revolt.  And when that mob succumbed to a violent inertia, it visited upon that politician – sequestered away in his opulent mansion – its own form of fiery “justice”.  Taken to its logical conclusion, what did that politician expect would happen when protest fueled by populist passion reached its fever pitch?

I’m a firm believer in the notion that economics does a pretty good job of explaining pretty much everything.  And though the OWS crowd has some legitimate complaints (e.g. corruption in politics), most of the systemic ills it seeks to address have long existed without much concern.  But for the fact that unemployment remains stubbornly high and wage growth has been stagnant for a decade (on average), OWS would simply not exist.  The reality is as sad as it is simple: A lot of people are struggling to make ends meet and most of them don’t see much reason for hope.  In such times, it’s easy to bash Wall Street and global financiers because Washington and the media need a convenient scapegoat (for needs of diversion and villainy, respectively).  But at the end of the day, income disparity exists across the industry spectrum, and Wall Street certainly doesn’t own a monopoly on ridiculous pay packages (see Silicon Valley, the NBA/NFL/MLB, and Hollywood for a few other examples).  What Moore et al. fail to recognize is that they in many ways personify the “evil” that has become the system and should therefore be careful what they wish for.  After all, as The Economist reminded us this week, “Populist anger, especially if it has no coherent agenda, can go anywhere in times of want.”

Filed Under: Finance, Media, Politics Tagged With: , , ,

Slice Of Awesome: Hedonism Edition

October 14, 2011 By 1 Comment

Long live Hedo Rick!

Filed Under: Awesome, Comedy Tagged With: ,

Occupy Herbstreit

October 14, 2011 By Leave a Comment

Stumbled upon a great little photo collection called Occupy Herbstreit today.  It chronicles the work of a guy who has jokingly infiltrated the Occupy Wall Street protests with his own signs that bring college football into the mix.  (Note: Kirk Herbstreit is a well-known college football analyst for ESPN).  Good stuff.

Filed Under: Comedy, Politics, Sports Tagged With:

The Playboy Interview: Steven Jobs

October 14, 2011 By 2 Comments

Still smarting from the passing of our generation’s greatest innovator, I took some time this evening to reread an interview that Playboy did with Steve Jobs back in 1985.  The insight displayed in the piece is magnificent, showing a 29-year old who is quite clearly wise beyond his years.  Jobs’ range is a truly sight to behold; he offers penetrating thoughts on topics as diverse as philosophy, economics, management, psychology, philanthropy, organizational behavior, and (of course) technology.  This edition of Playboy might be one of the few that was actually purchased for the articles!

h/t Adam for reminding me.

Filed Under: Literature, Tech Tagged With: ,

Time To Get My Run On

October 9, 2011 By Leave a Comment

So tomorrow’s the big day.  Months of training culminate in one final, early morning run.  This time, of course, I’ll be joined by 45,000 other runners and cheered on by thousands of onlookers.  Should be a good time, save for the fact that I came down with a cold on Friday and have spent the entire day today coughing, sneezing, and discharging massive amounts of mucus.  My goal of 3.5 hours will likely be unattainable given the phlegm in my chest and the pounding in my head.  But the goal of simply finishing will be just fine by me.

Anyone wishing to track my progress is invited to sign up for updates that allow you to track me online or by your cell phone.  For reference, my bib number is: 47889.  And for those of you who plan to attend the actual event, I’ll be the dude rocking the shirt below.




Filed Under: Personal, Sports Tagged With:

Livestrong

October 5, 2011 By Leave a Comment

As many of you know, I’ll be attempting to recreate the run of the Greek messenger Pheidippides on the streets of Chicago this coming Sunday.  There are important differences between me and the Greek legend, of course.  For one, I’ll be tackling the 26 miles and 385 yards in modern-day running gear instead of a toga and sandals.  Two, I won’t be announcing a defeat of the Persians at the end of my journey, as I’ll instead be more inclined to tell the story of my victory over blisters and cramps.  Three, I’m pretty sure Pheidippides didn’t have thousands of cheering fans lining his path to Athens, helping him power through those inevitable moments of desperation that accompany such physical feats (yep, I’m pretty sure the poor guy suffered alone, silently).  And four, I don’t plan on collapsing and dying once I reach the finish line, but I suppose no one actually plans for such things so I guess I’ll just have to hope for the best.

I’ll be dedicating my run to the memory of Bob “The Wheel” Lampe, about whom I wrote a little while back.  As you may recall, Bob passed away recently after a battle with cancer.  I’ve decided to sign up for Team Livestrong to honor his memory this weekend.  Anyone interested in supporting me in this effort is encouraged to visit my fundraising website where any amount given, large or small, would be greatly appreciated.  Livestrong!

Filed Under: Chicago, Personal Tagged With: ,

Slice Of Awesome: Arrested Development Edition

October 4, 2011 By Leave a Comment

Great news from The New Yorker festival this weekend regarding the best sitcom of all time.  It sounds like a movie is indeed in the works, which will be preceded by ten brand new television episodes.  It appears there may in fact be a god.

From a Jason Bateman tweet:

It’s true. We will do 10 episodes and the movie. Probably shoot them all together next summer for a release in early ’13. VERY excited!

h/t Justin for the scoop.

Filed Under: Awesome, Comedy, TV Tagged With: ,

Guy On A Buffalo

October 4, 2011 By Leave a Comment

The clips below are incredibly funny in a weird and random kind of way.  They are from an obscure 1970s film called Buffalo Rider, which just so happens to be one of the strangest movies I’ve ever come across.  It’s apparently about a dude who rescues a baby buffalo from some coyotes, tames it, and rides adult said buffalo around fighting Indians, saving babies, and grappling with various forms of wildlife (including literally punching a cougar in the face).  The clips are hilarious, thanks mostly to some brilliant music written specifically for them.

Episode 1: Bears, Indians, & Such

Episode 2: Orphans, Cougars, & What Not

Amazingly, there is very little information about this film on the Interwebs, which is a shame because I find myself intrigued by its WTF randomness.  Lucky for us, though, the film can be seen in its entirety for free on YouTube.  Anyone wishing to go down the rabbit hole after some serious imbibing is highly encouraged to give this thing a shot!

h/t Ryan for the intro.

Filed Under: Comedy, Movies Tagged With:

Who Should Feel Worse – A UBS Shareholder Or A U.S. Taxpayer?

September 30, 2011 By 1 Comment

Much of life is relative to me, which is to say that I enjoy measuring things in comparative fashion so as to provide a proper perspective.  For example, my morning runs often see me pass a homeless couple camped out underneath a Lakeshore Drive underpass.  No matter how groggy or pained I am on those runs, the mere sight of this couple helps to minimize my perceived plight.  And when the Mrs. and I would occasionally lament the struggles of our expatriate posting in Tokyo, I’d often resort to the refrain of, “Oh well, things could be worse.  For example, at least I don’t work for the State Department where our relocation options could include places like Baghdad or Kabul.”  That’s admittedly a bit of a stretch, but the practice of contextualizing brings with it myriad psychological benefits.

Naturally, this little habit of mine causes me to view news headlines with a certain sense of curiosity.  This is perhaps best illustrated by my response to the news that (yet another) rogue trader had brought considerable misfortune to his employer.  In this particular case, a UBS trader apparently managed to rack up $2.3 billion in “unauthorized” losses for his firm, an act of financial subterfuge the eventually felled his firm’s CEO.  That’s obviously a magnitude of loss that deserves plenty of attention (both internally and externally).  And it just so happens to come at a time when the global financial system is having its fair share of problems.  But in an era defined by President Obama’s “soak the rich” class warfare rhetoric, the sense of schadenfreude in the media’s coverage of the affair is disconcerting.  Especially since there are other stories of profligate behavior and/or fiscal mismanagement that, in my mind, deserve much more attention than a random rogue trader.

For example, lost in the hoopla surrounding the UBS debacle was the case of the missing $6.6 billion in cold hard cash in Iraq.  Of course, everyone knows the massive money pit that Iraq and Afghanistan have represented for a country as financially strapped as ours ($4 trillion and counting).  But the most blatant display of fiscal carelessness for me has been the story of C-130 Hercules cargo planes that were loaded with shrink-wrapped bricks of $100 bills and flown to Iraq for eventual disbursement to…um…well, it appears nobody knows exactly who got the money.  Indeed, of the $12 billion or so that was transported to Iraq in such fashion (ostensibly for reconstruction purposes), almost half of it has up and disappeared like a fart in the wind.

This is admittedly an extreme example of how our hard-earned tax dollars are being wasted, but it serves as a reminder of the severe mismanagement of resources that can occur within the halls of government.  Moreover, it represents the largest theft of funds in national history yet has received very little airtime relative to the UBS story.  So I ask, where is the greater feeling of being wronged – as a UBS shareholder or as a U.S. taxpayer?

Filed Under: Finance, Japan, Politics, Travel Tagged With: , , ,

Slice Of Awesome: Queen Edition

September 28, 2011 By Leave a Comment

This is a smashing rendition of Queen’s “Somebody To Love”, where Canadian singer Marc Martel pulls off an uncanny Freddy Mercury imitation.  The video was submitted as an audition for Queen Extravaganza, which is a North American talent search (headed by Queen drummer Roger Taylor) where the winners will headline a live touring show to pay tribute to the band’s 40th anniversary.  Can’t imagine anyone will be able to beat this guy out for the role of Freddy.

Filed Under: Awesome, Music Tagged With: , ,

Quote Of The Day

September 22, 2011 By 3 Comments

From Francisco’s “Money Speech” in the Ayn Rand classic, Atlas Shrugged.  Apropos to the moment:

When you see that trading is done, not by consent, but by compulsion – when you see that in order to produce, you need to obtain permission from men who produce nothing – when you see that money is flowing to those who deal, not in goods, but in favors – when you see that men get richer by graft and by pull than by work, and your laws don’t protect you against them, but protect them against you – when you see corruption being rewarded and honesty becoming a self-sacrifice – you may know that your society is doomed.

Filed Under: Books, Finance, Politics Tagged With: , ,

Slice Of Awesome: North Korea Edition

September 21, 2011 By Leave a Comment

This is a fantastic compilation of random North Korean “celebrations” set to the song “Party Rock Anthem” by LMFAO.  The choreography is great, not to mention the dichotomy struck between the inherent joy of the music itself and the  superficial glee put on display by oppressed masses through force and intimidation.

Filed Under: Music, Politics Tagged With: , ,

On The Grinds Of Travel And The Delights Of Home

September 18, 2011 By 1 Comment

Having spent the better part of three weeks on the road (in London, Hong Kong, and Singapore), I returned yesterday to the delights of home.  My journey home from Singapore followed a great Friday night out with friends that included dinner at Luke’s Oyster Bar and Chop House and drinks at some bar on Club Street whose primary differentiating feature was a wall full of random mix tapes.  After toying with the notion of playing through until my 4 AM departure for the airport, I decided instead to head back to the hotel for a power nap at around 1 AM.  I awoke at 3:30 AM to groggily begin my 20+ hour journey home.

After being asked to show my boarding pass on (literally) six different occasions while making my way to the gate at Changi, our United 747 pushed back at 6 AM and we were touching down in Hong Kong for our connection to Chicago about 3.5 hours of interrupted sleep later (being seated next to the galley is the kiss of death for the road-weary traveler).  Our layover was theoretically scheduled for a very manageable two hours.  However, once we boarded, we found ourselves sitting at the gate well past our scheduled push-back time.  Turns out the flight was being held up for a connecting passenger.  I can understand why this should happen (putting myself in the shoes of that wayward traveler); however, as our delay worked on the one-hour mark, I became rather perturbed.  If we were waiting for a group of travelers, that’s one thing.  But the announcements made it sound like we were being held up for just one person.  I looked it up and this particular flight (on a Boeing 747-400) had a seating capacity of 374.  And since this was a sold out flight, 373 eager passengers – many of whom were due to connect to myriad flights of their own upon reaching Chicago – were being held up by just one individual.  I’m not sure how these decisions are made by the airlines – and I appreciate the difficulty of managing such complex systems – but this particular practice could surely use a revisit.  Especially since the passenger in question never even arrived, causing our flight to be further delayed as the person’s bags were removed!

Once airborne, I used the 14.5 hour flight to take in a movie (the predictably mediocre Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides), sleep intermittently for about eight hours (this flight was an especially bumpy one), read Haruki Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running (which provided motivation for my upcoming marathon as well as fuel my dreams of becoming a writer someday), and watch a couple episodes of MTV’s Challenge: Rivals (one of the greatest reality franchises around).  I finally arrived in Chicago around 3 PM on Saturday and was greeted by my two ladies who happily drove me home with the moonroof open on a gorgeous Fall day.  Once home, I flirted with the idea of a run only to succumb to the comforts of the man cave, where I happily took in a much-need Irish victory over Michigan State.  I then caught up on Curb Your Enthusiasm (this season is superb) before drifting off to sleep to the sounds of the Florida State-Oklahoma game.  Bliss.

I awoke this morning around 6 AM to the beeping of our carbon monoxide alarm (no worries, just a unit error), which was fine since I’m jet-lagged anyway.  I relaxed with a coffee, bagel, the news, and Sportscenter before nailing a 13-miler at a 7 minute 37 second per mile clip.  These past few weeks have surely set my training back.  But the clip on this morning’s run was my second-best and I felt pretty good doing it, so I have no idea what to make of anything when it comes to all this training stuff.

I just watched Manchester United lay waste to Chelsea (thanks in large part to some monumental brain farts by Fernando Torres).  And now I’ll saddle up with a collection of newspapers and magazines that have piled up in my absence while watching the Bears game.  Following that, I’ll saunter on down to the Houndstooth Saloon, which is a mere two blocks away and just so happens to be a Dallas Cowboys bar.  While I typically don’t advocate day-drinking or drinking on Sundays, I will make an exception today because it just feels like the right thing to do.  Ah, the delights of being home!

Filed Under: Books, Chicago, Movies, Sports, Travel, TV

Unbroken

September 13, 2011 By 2 Comments

I’ve just finished devouring one of the most fascinating books that I’ve ever read.  Unbroken – written by Seabiscuit author Laura Hillenbrand – tells the story of Louis Zamperini, a world-class runner turned World War II bombardier who is definitely one of the toughest bastards our country has ever produced.  Among many other things, the dude survived a B-24 crash into the Pacific Ocean, 47 days adrift at sea, and more than two years of torture at the hands of some rather sadistic Japanese captors.  Anyone interested in an inspirational story of super-human fortitude and perseverance that is superbly researched and written is highly advised to give this book a go.  Mr. Zamperini is the quintessential personification of our country’s greatest generation, a man whose unfathomable strength and courage are examples for us all.  I will take this story with me for a long while, for it is a reminder of how trifling are my daily travails and how thankful I am for those who risk everything to serve our country.

Filed Under: Books Tagged With: , ,

The View From My Window

September 10, 2011 By Leave a Comment

From the 27th floor of the Grand Hyatt in Hong Kong, 6:30 AM local time on a Sunday.  Kinda surreal to see the streets so empty, but such are the rewards of jetlag.

Filed Under: Travel Tagged With:

I Just Threw Up In My Mouth

September 10, 2011 By Leave a Comment

This photo perfectly captures all that is wrong with American politics.  Plenty of laughing and glad-handing to go around, which quite obviously belies the precarious nature of the moment (spurred in large part by our horrific ruling class).  Look at what great leaders we are!  We’re all so very happy!  And we all get along!  Hooray for us!

Filed Under: Politics Tagged With:

WTF?: Hong Kong Bathroom Edition

September 7, 2011 By 1 Comment

Hong Kong is notable for many things, not least of which is its infamous property market.  And the rather stretched nature of the city’s real estate may or may not inform a strange dynamic I’ve noticed regarding one’s ability to access toilets in public spaces.

You see, in the city’s numerous mall complexes, it is often a challenge to locate a public restroom.  And once you do, you’ll often find that the doors are locked, thus requiring you to venture into one of the nearby shops to ask for a key to the door.  Kinda strange, to be sure.  Even stranger, though, was something I saw earlier today.  While waiting between meetings in the food court at the bottom of Citibank Tower (home to Pacific Coffee, Starbucks, and Pret A Manger, among others), I decided to embark on a little adventure (i.e., attempt to take a piss).  As I passed through multiple doors leading down long, winding hallways with little-to-no signage, I finally found the door leading to the men’s restroom.  Naturally, it was locked.  But, lucky for me, there was a harried stranger behind me armed with a magic key, so I just followed him right in.

Once inside, I noticed that the doors to the stalls were marked by each of the food companies located outside (just as certain stores back home attempt to reserve parking spots for their customers).  For example, one stall had signage that literally read “For Starbucks Customers Only”, situated right next to one that read “For Pret A Manger Customers Only”.  I chuckled at the silliness of such rule-setting (only Elder Price from The Book of Mormon would feel guilty about using the Pret stall if the Starbucks one were occupied after downing a grande non-fat decaf latte).  But the silliness was magnified when I ventured over to the sink to wash my hands, where the corporate land grab amazingly persisted.

The (poor quality) photos below attempt to capture this oddity.  In this one you can slightly make out the Pret sign above one sink, located next to another one for Starbucks customers.

And here you can kinda sorta make out the sink specifically assigned to Starbucks customers.  I really wish I would’ve seen someone dutifully waiting behind an occupied sink while all of the others sat empty.  Classic stuff.

Filed Under: Travel Tagged With:

Becker On Buffett

September 4, 2011 By Leave a Comment

As a (mediocre) student of the markets, I admire Warren Buffett.  The man is among the most successful and thoughtful practitioners in the history of finance.  However, his latest diatribes pertaining to the “rich” paying their “fair share” in taxes (quotations used because defining both terms requires a large degree of subjectivity) have me hot under the collar.  While Buffett whines that he and his super rich contemporaries pay too little in the form of income taxes, he fails to elaborate on his own tax machinations that enable him to pay such low rates.  The way he recognizes income as CEO of Berkshire Hathaway quite clearly allows him to take advantage of a system he claims to want to fix.  Plus, his calls for higher estate taxes is a wonderful example of hypocrisy, coming from a man who has donated the lion’s share of his monstrous net worth to charity (therefore allowing him to avoid such taxes, not to mention enjoying the deductions associated therewith).

I certainly don’t begrudge Buffett’s decision to donate his wealth to charity (and convince many of his similarly-situated peers to do the same).  But it begs the question of why he didn’t donate all that money to the government instead.  After all, we are all free as U.S. citizens to donate money directly to our Treasury to help pay down our country’s debt.  However, judging by the roughly $2 million in contributions this year, most of us choose to take the Buffett route and divert our resources to more accountable and efficient causes, which Gary Becker of the University of Chicago pondered in a recent blog post:

Warren Buffett has persuaded 68 other billionaires to follow his example and promise to give at least half their wealth to charities. But why hasn’t Buffett proposed also that the very rich make large gifts to the federal government to offset what he considers ridiculously low taxes on their incomes and wealth? My guess is that he and the others who pledged to give away their wealth to charity would have little confidence in how the government would spend such gifts. Buffett, for example, is giving most of his wealth to the Gates Foundation, not to the federal government, and is relying on how this foundation will spend his vast gift. Given this reluctance to make large gifts to the federal government, why should anyone have confidence that the federal government will spend additional tax revenue in a sensible way?

So as he calls for higher taxes on himself and his ilk during our nation’s time of need, Buffett has simultaneously chosen to divert his massive wealth away from the government through both savvy navigation of the tax code and targeted charitable giving.  That’s what I call voting with your feet!

Filed Under: Finance, Politics Tagged With: , ,

Boycott Congress!

September 4, 2011 By 1 Comment

In light of today’s stupendously ineffectual political environment, Starbucks CEO Howard Schultz has issued a call to arms: Let’s boycott donations to the President and Congress.  As we all know, money makes the great world spin, and this is especially true when it comes to politics.  I, for one, find our political establishment today to be woefully inadequate.  And I abhor the political process and would welcome any effort to make it purer.  As a result, though my default setting is one of annoyance when it comes to Schultz (not sure why), I’m happy to support his effort when it comes to calling our political leadership to account.

Filed Under: Politics Tagged With: , ,
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