Fables of the Reconstruction

I’m no knee-jerk fan of either major party, so the ugliness of this election season has triggered one of my depressions. For me, these are characterized by what I call “wheels within wheels” phases, in which the world seems to reduce to the meshing of an impossibly complicated set of gears. I get stuck probing away at the mechanisms, trying to make sense of a planetary gearset that leaves no room for randomness, irrationality, or serendipity. It’s paranoia both grand and personal, but I’ve gotten better about getting it under control.

More importantly my wife helps ground me and elevate me, and that’s why I love her so.

This morning, I considered what I want to share with you about 9/11 this time around, and that’s when I reached the conclusion that the reconstruction of Ground Zero should remain perpetually in progress. After all, anything that actually gets finished will only be a letdown after all this buildup. Plus, it’ll boost employment among construction workers, city-state-federal lobbyists, starchitects, and Sheldon Silver.

And most importantly, it’ll be a fitting symbol of our state of endless war.

In the words of James Brolin, “Happy 9/11!”

In the words of my wife, “I hope Josh got his mom’s brains. Whoever she is.”

Six-month chipmunkiversary

On our evening walk yesterday, it occurred to me that it had been six months since Rufus joined our home! I felt bad about missing the anniversary, but since we brought him home in the evening(ish) last March, I figured he wasn’t holding it against us.

So, after getting him home, I headed down to the supermarket to get him a present! (the pet store in town was closed). Without further ado, our anniversary celebration!

City of Glass

This week’s ish of New York Magazine has a neat article by Justin Davidson; it consists of a meditation on NYC’s architecture boom and how it fits in the city’s history, complemented by 50 before-and-afters of recent buildings. I’m conflicted about some of his points, especially on the relationship of new buildings with their neighborhoods, and the “walking travelogue” aspect gets a bit precious, but I think it’s an awfully worthwhile article, with some good conversation about the nature of the city. Mr. Davidson cops to a certain sadness to all the buildings that are lost, but, also understands that freezing any one moment in time is impossible:

Intelligent preservation is precious, but nostalgia is cheap, and every era nurtures its own variety. Those late-nineteenth-century Upper West Siders who still thought of Broadway as the bucolic, elm-lined Bloomingdale Road of their youths resented the incursion of brownstones in the 1880s. Their children must have been horrified in turn when those same houses were wiped away by the now-classic apartment buildings that line West End Avenue. Bitterness springs eternal.

I suppose I’ll always have Ben Katchor‘s Julius Knipl comics to fall back on, for That New York that I’ve lost.

As a plus, the article also turned me on to Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York!

Oh, and the “history of Columbus Circle” sidebar sent me spiraling back to 1982 or thereabouts, when my dad took me to a gift trade show at the New York Coliseum for work. I hadn’t thought of that day in decades, and thinking about it now makes me a little sad, because of all the other memories locked away in time’s vanishing city.

What It Is: 9/8/08

What I’m reading: The Death of Ivan Ilych, Montaigne’s essays, and Berlin: City of Stones.

What I’m listening to: Pure, by the Golden Palominos.

What I’m watching: Almost done with the final season of The Wire! Aaiee! What’ll I watch after this? Well, at least football season has started!

What I’m drinking: Yuengling lager

What Rufus is up to: Holding it in, as he refused to crap Saturday evening during the tropical storm that was belting the area. That said, he was willing to brave the elements for a pee-break or two, from which we returned looking like a pair of drowned rats.

Where I’m going: Nowhere, although I really oughtta get into NYC for this Charles Burns exhibition.

What I’m happy about: That my in-laws’ homes didn’t get demolished by hurricane Gustav! (Oh, and that I got a new dishwasher last week. And that when Lowe’s sorta screwed up and overcharged me by $50, they called a few hours later and credited me.)

What I’m sad about: That my pal Tom got mugged in Rome last weekend, and that I got this news five minutes after receiving a not-so-nice letter from the IRS.

What I’m pondering: How and when to rip up all the forsythia in the backyard and transplant 3 or 4 of them in the side yard.

Monday Morning Montaigne: Back Next Week

I was too busy/addled this weekend to write my Monday Morning Montaigne post, dear readers. But I did finish the Apology for Raymond Sebond, and have (what I think) are some neat observations about it. I was gratified to see that M. loosened up a bit more in this last section, including anecdotes about a farting contest and Diogenes predilection for, um, taking care of hisownbadself out in public.

Anyway, I promise I’ll get to this next week and wrap up the Apology. Then it’s back to the shorter essays!

Long-Term, my ass

I recently read When Genius Failed, Roger Lowenstein’s chronicle of the rise (1994) and collapse (1998) of Long-Term Capital Management, a hedge fund staffed by Harvard and MIT Ph.D.s. The LTCM team developed “risk management” models that would allow them fund to “vaccuum up nickels” in massive (leveraged) quantities. The formula worked for a while, until it didn’t, at which point people started to realize that LTCM was leveraged out the wazoo, and that the value of its derivatives bets was literally incalculable.

Once the bottom fell out, the Fed had to coordinate a bailout of LTCM by the world’s leading banks. Many of these banks were treated as doormats by LTCM during its meteoric rise. Trust me; it’s a really entertaining story that Mr. Lowenstein tells. As David Pflug, Chase’s head of global credit, put it, “You can overintellectualize those Greek letters [in LTCM’s formulae]. One Greek word that ought to be in there is hubris.”

Two major issues — beyond the failures of “risk management” — struck me while I read the book. For one thing, LTCM’s collapse was precipitated by a series of regional financial crises in 1997-98. The final straw came when Russia defaulted on its foreign bonds in order to pay workers at home. This means, “Russia welched on its worldwide obligations because it barely had money to keep its government afloat.” And this occurred only ten years ago. So if oil futures didn’t rise 1000% in the past few years, how brazen would Russia be right now? (and if they drop significantly, where will Russia end up?)

The third issue was that the behavior of LTCM and the major banks sounded remarkably familiar to our current mortgage-driven crisis (right down to Lehmann Bros. suffering rumors about its underfunding and impending collapse). The exotic derivatives, the incalculable, illiquid assets, the “too big to fail” mentality: this could be 1998 writ large! Had these financial genii — and many of the major players involved in the recent Bear Stearns collapse also figure into When Genius Fails — managed to ignore every lesson from LTCM’s failure?

Near the end of the book, Mr. Lowenstein wrote:

Permitting such losses to occur is what deters most people and institutions from taking imprudent risks. Now especially, after a decade of prosperity and buoyant financial markets, a reminder that foolishness carries a price would be no bad thing. Will investors in the next problem-child-to-be, having been lulled by the soft landing engineered for Long-Term, be counting on the Fed, too? On balance, the Fed’s decision to get involved — though understandable given the panicky condition of September 1998 — regrettably squandered a choice opportunity to send the markets a needed dose of discipline.

That’s why I was really gratified to open today’s NYTimes and discover that Mr. Lowenstein has a great essay on exactly that topic, “Long-Term Capital: It’s a Short-Term Memory”! He does a good job of explaining the issues without getting overly technical (one of the complaints others have had about his book).

Give it a read; I bet you’ll dig it. (And get irate, when you start reading about the Fannie Mae / Freddie Mac seizure. . .)

Maybe his brother can suit up!

I’m kinda astonished that the NFL season starts tomorrow night. I figure I’ll order up some pizza on the way home from Amy’s train and watch the Giants begin their defense of the champi —

— oh, who am I kidding? The Giants could go 3-13 this year and I won’t care! They beat the Patriots in the Superbowl and derailed The Perfect Season!

Anyway, I was just clicking around on ESPN.com and noticed that Baltimore’s starting QB Kyle Boller last year is gone for the season. I wondered who’s going to start for new head coach John Harbaugh, and I read the following sentence:

Boller entered the preseason competing for the starting job with Troy Smith and top draft pick Joe Flacco, who ultimately won the job because of Boller’s injury and Smith’s lengthy battle with infected tonsils.

So that means that Baltimore is starting a QB because one of his competitors wrecked his shoulder and the other got tonsilitis.

I know this team won a Superbowl with Trent Dilfer at QB (beating the Giants), but I have a feeling the Ravens fans will be covering their eyes and saying, “Nevermore!” a week or two into the season.