If blogging were a piggy bank, I’d owe it a long post,
followed by a continually compounded interest rate of words upon sentences upon
paragraphs. In other words, I’m long overdue for writing some thoughts here.
Apologies!
However, in lieu of one super long post, I am leaving a series
of short reflections. Some may be humorous, others amusing, but all of it based
true stories.
J’apprends une
langue!
If French were a programming language, I would have never
passed that Intermédiarie Français class.
Instead, every grammatically incorrect statement would have led my French TA (au fait, il s’appelle Clément) to morph
into Agent Smith, Matrix-style. Eventually, a swarm of Agent Smiths would build
up to alter the definition of baguette and
“pam-pleh-mousse” for some evil purpose. Yes, this is what I picture happening when typing a flawed
line of code while practicing Visual Basics. No, I’m pretty sure the Chosen One
is someone else.
A Real-Life Matrix Experience
To continue on the Matrix theme, I recently finished a book
that reads like the film trilogy (in about 300 pages, give or take). The crazy
part is it’s a real-life account. The crazier part is it’s written about
financial industries while being a
page-turner.
Titled Dark Pools,
author Scott Patterson provides an electrifying tale of how stocks became
increasingly traded between algorithm-filled machines in the millionths and
billionths of seconds. In less than an eye’s blink, trillions of dollars switch
hands across the United States. Trillions! For anyone interested in equities
and stock markets, this is a must-read. If you enjoyed the Matrix movies, I
would also recommend this book.
Okay, I’ll stop making that reference now.
An Almost Love Poem
Can you write love poems without being in love? Is it like finding
rain without clouds? Is that an entirely over-used parallel?
The following poem started out as a belated Christmas gift
for a friend, in a sarcastic, inside-joke, kind of way. But it made me wonder
how perspectives are shaped on poetry or art in general.
For example, while my friend “enjoyed” my poem, she also
wrote “That’s it?” in response to a Neruda line: I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees. But
that was before I told her who had written those words.
Before I ramble on, here was my poem. Be warned, it probably
won’t be submitted for a Pulitzer Prize.
After-dark
And what of love
In my mind, in the
after-dark,
But morning dew before
yellow hues.
She holds her form,
the only shimmer
That dots the blackened
figure.
And what sparks shine
upon lights
But that of love,
In my mind, in the after-dark.
