via original usage of language
JOURNAL DATE RECORDED: OCTOBER 22
On Thursday Kapitoil predicts that prices will drop 15 cents, so I short a contract for 5,000 barrels. Before I make the transaction, I review Kapitoil’s prediction and the data that support it, in case I can decipher why it has been erroneous. But I do not detect any glitches: It is using the most recent newspaper articles in the U.S. from this morning and should be accurate.
The prices drop at first, as the program predicted, but then they fluctuate during the day, and by the end of open outcry it is up 17 cents and we again lose money.
Mr. Ray emails me:
One more chance tomorrow, or we’ll have to kill it.
I strike my desk hard, and Rebecca looks at me. “I am having a technical issue,” I say.
Several minutes later, Jefferson disconnects his telephone. “Scored two tickets, mezzanine, game three of the World Series,” he says. “Check the weather for the 26th.”
Dan clicks on his computer. “Damn. 70% chance of rain.”
Jefferson says, “Don’t be so pessimistic, baby. That’s your problem. October weather goes through volatile ch-ch-ch-changes,” and he sings this last word as he intentionally stutters.
And then I have a positive short circuit about why my program is malfunctioning, or instead why it functions at first and then stops: because it is processing articles written the previous night and published in the morning. But by the afternoon it is obsolete news, which is why Kapitoil performs poorly then. The Internet is a constant source of data, like a spacious bin the entire world is depositing trash inside, and my program is calibrated so precisely that it must process the most recent data: the trash on top . The trash underneath is less valuable.
The solitary way to profit with it, I hypothesize, is to make transactions and run Kapitoil every hour, although this poses great risk for major losses.
“Karim, check us out on TV Tuesday night,” Jefferson says.
I am frustrated that he is interrupting me when I am in the middle of an important thought, so I say, “I will, if you are not obstructed by the people sitting in front of you.” He does not understand this is a reference to his height, and resumes working.
I shoot Mr. Ray my idea. He agrees it is high risk, but green-lights me to try this new hourly strategy tomorrow.
I receive an email from Rebecca at 5:45 p.m.:
Interested in seeing the movie “Three Kings” tonight? (Short notice, I know, but I figure you’re busy next week trying to spot Jefferson on TV in vain--the camera only adds ten pounds, not ten inches.)
I know it is customary in the U.S. for a female to invite a man to socialize, but it still makes me uncomfortable. Although of course I would not have the confidence to invite her to socialize, so in some ways I am relieved. But then I have another source of confusion: I am uncertain if this is a romantic date or if it is just two friends partnering for a movie.
I reply that I would like to see the movie, which I have seen advertisements for although I do not know what it is about. She responds immediately that a theater nearby is playing it directly after work. I was hoping her writing would suggest whether she believes it is a date or friends partnering, but nothing in her email is a strong indicator, or possibly my skill at reading English is not advanced enough to analyze her words.
A few minutes after Jefferson and Dan leave, Rebecca asks if I want to go now. We get in the elevator, and it is similar to the time we went to coffee together and did not speak. She touches the material of her white shirt sleeve and gray pants as we descend.
“I’ve read really good things about this movie,” she says finally.
“I have not.”
“You heard it was bad?”
“No,” I say. “I have not read anything about it.”
She laughs, although when she laughs after I make a conversational error (she explains the error to me) it
JOURNAL DATE RECORDED: OCTOBER 22
On Thursday Kapitoil predicts that prices will drop 15 cents, so I short a contract for 5,000 barrels. Before I make the transaction, I review Kapitoil’s prediction and the data that support it, in case I can decipher why it has been erroneous. But I do not detect any glitches: It is using the most recent newspaper articles in the U.S. from this morning and should be accurate.
The prices drop at first, as the program predicted, but then they fluctuate during the day, and by the end of open outcry it is up 17 cents and we again lose money.
Mr. Ray emails me:
One more chance tomorrow, or we’ll have to kill it.
I strike my desk hard, and Rebecca looks at me. “I am having a technical issue,” I say.
Several minutes later, Jefferson disconnects his telephone. “Scored two tickets, mezzanine, game three of the World Series,” he says. “Check the weather for the 26th.”
Dan clicks on his computer. “Damn. 70% chance of rain.”
Jefferson says, “Don’t be so pessimistic, baby. That’s your problem. October weather goes through volatile ch-ch-ch-changes,” and he sings this last word as he intentionally stutters.
And then I have a positive short circuit about why my program is malfunctioning, or instead why it functions at first and then stops: because it is processing articles written the previous night and published in the morning. But by the afternoon it is obsolete news, which is why Kapitoil performs poorly then. The Internet is a constant source of data, like a spacious bin the entire world is depositing trash inside, and my program is calibrated so precisely that it must process the most recent data: the trash on top . The trash underneath is less valuable.
The solitary way to profit with it, I hypothesize, is to make transactions and run Kapitoil every hour, although this poses great risk for major losses.
“Karim, check us out on TV Tuesday night,” Jefferson says.
I am frustrated that he is interrupting me when I am in the middle of an important thought, so I say, “I will, if you are not obstructed by the people sitting in front of you.” He does not understand this is a reference to his height, and resumes working.
I shoot Mr. Ray my idea. He agrees it is high risk, but green-lights me to try this new hourly strategy tomorrow.
I receive an email from Rebecca at 5:45 p.m.:
Interested in seeing the movie “Three Kings” tonight? (Short notice, I know, but I figure you’re busy next week trying to spot Jefferson on TV in vain--the camera only adds ten pounds, not ten inches.)
I know it is customary in the U.S. for a female to invite a man to socialize, but it still makes me uncomfortable. Although of course I would not have the confidence to invite her to socialize, so in some ways I am relieved. But then I have another source of confusion: I am uncertain if this is a romantic date or if it is just two friends partnering for a movie.
I reply that I would like to see the movie, which I have seen advertisements for although I do not know what it is about. She responds immediately that a theater nearby is playing it directly after work. I was hoping her writing would suggest whether she believes it is a date or friends partnering, but nothing in her email is a strong indicator, or possibly my skill at reading English is not advanced enough to analyze her words.
A few minutes after Jefferson and Dan leave, Rebecca asks if I want to go now. We get in the elevator, and it is similar to the time we went to coffee together and did not speak. She touches the material of her white shirt sleeve and gray pants as we descend.
“I’ve read really good things about this movie,” she says finally.
“I have not.”
“You heard it was bad?”
“No,” I say. “I have not read anything about it.”
She laughs, although when she laughs after I make a conversational error (she explains the error to me) it
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