May

27

I hope us young guys can offer old timers a different perspective. Just kidding, dailyspeculations is my favorite blog on the web and I share mine below.

Hypothesis I thought of the other day daydreaming:

A test of lows or highs is similar to how when you break up with a lover you always go back for a second try to probe to see if you made the right decision. Both parties are usually willing (bulls/bears and man/woman or etc/etc. If test falls short, low/high rejection a new trend is formed or new high/low is formed and trend is resumed. If two partners give it a second try either their relationship moves to new deeper levels of intimacy or they split up and look for new partners.

Of course break out failures and failed failures happen, but at least the scenarios can be confined to a limited set of outcomes.


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2 Comments so far

  1. david on May 28, 2010 7:32 am

    Yeah, its amazing how may out comes a flip of a coin has……..

  2. douglas roberts dimick on May 28, 2010 8:46 am

    Romancing a Stone?

    A contra-indication of this low/high analogy is the notion of diversity. We hear a lot about the importance of not “putting all one’s eggs in one basket” from season industry professionals and speculators. Yet consultants and therapists indicate that intimate human relationships develop best when the two, committed parties concentrate, focus on their “investments” in each other. As a result, notions of hedging and risk management with “the market mistress” may not be analogous but in contrast to when it comes to loving though perhaps of consideration when speaking of being “in love.”

    My preferred analogy concerns the circularity of relations relative to the metacircularity of the markets…

    Carousel

    Created in tandem,
    she posts high
    and I rail down –
    a fixed gallop
    dancing on ferry ground.

    Her mane gleans of tulip,
    and her masked face
    without lines and enameled
    remains aside my constant pace.

    Each poled at the center,
    elevated from platform brown
    yet open to stars and wind
    enveloped with sweet and joyous sounds.

    Still (to each) we are boundless,
    though children young and old
    straddle us for fun and frolic
    imagining their lives so told.

    The mechanics of our union,
    concealed with painted facade,
    all controlled by a single lever
    starting and stopping –
    a mortal collage.

    Our love seems then like a ticket;
    presented for collection,
    sometimes torn when redeemed,
    only then embarking
    or that already seen.

    And often I site at our far side,
    undetectable with her single glare,
    that overalled hand of fate
    operating expressionless –
    as one does stare.

    So wonder I must,
    as tent tops fold and wheels roll,
    how to keep her with me
    when our days to turn are sold.

    dr

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