Mike Mayo – Exile on Wall Street

When I saw this book I felt that the last thing the world needed was another book about the crises. I don’t know if it is because it is the first global financial crises that I have lived through in my adult life (hopefully the last), or because I have been in business school right after its peak (and you can imagine it comes often as a topic in several classes) or because I have read too much about it – it just seemed that there was nothing else new to be said about it.

Nevertheless I bought the book and decided to give it a try; I like polemic and skilled people that are able to piss off people (who are wrong) with sound analysis and facts. Maybe is the hero version of analysts of consulting firms and investment banks around the place.

So, what did I think of Mayo’s book?

It is definitely not a deep analysis of the most recent financial crises; if you are looking for that I recommend wither (i) “The Big Short”, from Michael Lewis - if what you are looking for is a peep on the back stage of all the meetings that went through, who are the villains and who are the winners; besides that Lewis writes in an amazingly engaging way (check “Moneyball” and “Liar’s Poker” also), (ii) “Fault Lines”, from Raghuram Rajan – for a deep analysis on what are the factors and institutions that lead to the current system (the fault lines) that resulted in the latest financial natural disaster – it is impressively comprehensive and innovative in the analysis of a crises that has been clearly over covered by press and literature.

It is also definitely not a declared biography; Mike Mayo is not a notorious or historically important figure to deserve one. Sure he is a very good research analyst, and respected within the financial literature (check any banking sector article in “The Economist” and there is a high likelihood that you will find Mayo’s name in there), but I am pretty sure my mother has never heard of him. Or several of my business schools classmates, for that matter!

Exile on Wall Street is more like a diary, that tells the story of an underdog hero in his battle against more powerful villains, armed with facts, analysis and the courage to tell the truth and challenge the status quo. It is an appealing plot to someone like me, that has briefly worked in the financial sector and has always been interested in the it but I warn you – you may get bored quite fast if your relationship with the banking sector is through an ATM.

If you like the topic, go for it! It is an entertaining, not intellectually demanding fairytale for market junkies.

Studies of Tom Ze: Understanding thinks so I can confuse you

The first time I saw Tom Ze live was in a concert in my university, during my college days. The event included offensive exchanges with the public, object thrown at the stage and an early end of the concert – it left on me an image of a bitter artist, struggling to cope with fact that he was left out of the popularity that the “Tropicalista” movement has achieved and the ostracism (as per his words) he had experienced in his home country, yet didn’t undermine my admiration for his genial work.

I continued to listen and appreciate him during the years, ever discovering new albums (new to me, to make it clear) that blew my mind. So when I came across this new box that was released in the US in 2010 I purchased in a heart beat (Tom Ze: Understanding thinks so I can confuse you).

As the box arrived I was marveled with the quality of the records and the beauty of the box, that included the three studies that Tom Ze had done (Samba, Pagode and Bossa Nova), a single with a couple of songs and also a CD with a conversation of Tom Ze, David Byrne (the American producer that brought Tom Ze for the US in the 80s) and some others.

The records were not new to me, but if they are to you definitely listen to them. Tom Ze provides a beautiful tour of the music style I each of the records, showcasing the musicality and techniques present in them and the lyrics are a marvelous (and often ironic) critique of the inception and evolution of the genres. They are also permeated by the experimentations that Tom Ze lived for.

But the box also brought something new to me; listening to the hour-long conversation I discovered another side of Tom Ze. As it happens when we are confronted with evidence that discredit our beliefs, I started to dig deeper to try to understand better him.

After watching countless videos of interviews and performances that were available in the internet my impression on Tom Ze changed substantially. He was not a brilliant but bitter musician that seized every opportunity he had to get back to a public that has so long overlooked him.

He is a very intelligent person (not just a brilliant musician) that struggles to cope with both the fact that he has made more success abroad than at Brazil. The difference is that he verbalize this constant struggle, as oppose to most of us, who internalize our struggles and externalize our rationalization of them.

He is not afraid to be seen as incoherent and confuse; he rather provide you an insight to his thought process and let you make your judgment. The result is a narrative that in the same paragraph is utterly arrogant, but finishes with a sentence that is a textbook example of humbleness.

If you want to get a glimpse of this, watch his interview at Roda Vida (you can easily find in youtube). One of my favorite part of it is this piece, especially starting at 3:41, when he recounts the time he was arrested - Tom Ze's interview at Roda Viva. His description of the struggle with the left in Brazil at that time is also amazing, starting at 5:38.

Testing a new idea

I have always liked photography (or more like I have always been obsessed with it) and this includes using them to decorate my place. However the problem with framing a picture is that you have little incentive to change them and revamp the look around once in a while (especially for a master of the procrastinating art as myself).

Therefore I have decided to do something different to see if it works: I have decided to do a sort of “clothesline” and hang pictures on it, with a sign that says “If you like any of the pictures, take it. It is yours”. The idea is to both provide a natural incentive to change pictures hanging on the wall (as they go) and also a more interactive way of sharing pictures, a sort of a vintage offline blog.

Let’s see if it works…

Valter Hugo Mãe - A Maquina de Fazer Espanhóis

Esse livro me chegou como chega a maioria dos livros que gosto; por recomendação de um grande amigo no qual confio no gosto literário. Normalmente nestes casos eu nem faço caso de que seja capaz de dizer a qualidade do livro por uma página lida em pé na livraria; compro sem sequer ler a orelha.

O livro conta a historia do senhor silva, que apos perder a esposa - amor de sua vida por 48 anos – é colocado pela família em um asilo. A narrativa se assemelha ao descascar de uma cebola; em cada capítulo m episódio do presente ou passado que vai revelando a personalidade e as ramificações de um silva amargurado, ateu e omisso fascista (?). Ao mesmo o desenrolar emocional transforma-se em uma ode a amizade.

Angolano de nascença, Valter Hugo Mãe empresta o estilo narrativo de Saramago, onde dialogo e narrativa se confundem e clarificam-se umas as outras. Empresta também da prosa poética de Neruda e Mia Couto, com construções que demandam uma pausa na leitura; não para compreende-las, mas sim para evitar que uma outra frase sem a mesma poética lhe enterre de imediato nas linhas lidas.

Mais um autor que entra para o pequeno rol de favoritos, e le-lo se parece com assistir um novo parto da língua portuguesa. Eu sei, parece exagero; mas quem assim falou não fui eu, foi Saramago. Sugiro fortemente que leiam a tirem a prova, que eu vou para o próximo dele que encontrar.

PS - alias a edição brasileira da Cosaicnaify deste livro esta espetacular; obra-prima editorial

Imagens são minhas palavras

Eu não tiro foto, eu conto minha historia com imagens.

Porque o que deus abundou no sentir, economizou na capacidade oratória. E fico ai, com excesso de sentir e falta de contar, a pegar carona no texto, musica, poema alheio. Eis que me acusam de plágio; ora pois, que mesquinhagem - que custa emprestar poética? Não estou eu sempre disposto a lhe emprestar razão (mesmo quando esta não cabe)?

Então me recorro a imagens. Afinal, dizem por ai que elas valem mais que mil palavras. Mas o problema não é elas falarem; o problema é a gente entender - desaprendemos lentamente a língua das imagens e esta está perigosamente perto de ser extinta.

Mas quem disse que preciso ser entendido? Eu só preciso falar...

Records!

I collect records (I mean vinyl records, or LPs, if you prefer); actually one can say that my preferred form of music is through records. Of course I am not a fundamentalist – if I haven’t got the record or it does not exist in old school format, I consume it in the way it presents to me, disk, virtual or cloud!

I started around 10 years ago, when I moved from my parents’ place. I was wandering in the city center and entered into a great music place (when itunes wasn’t around yet) and felt in love with this old sound system for sale, with one of the first record players to come to Brazil. I bought and then on my Saturday mornings suddenly become scavenger hunt in downtown Sao Paulo after records.

However I have never truly figure out the answer for one of the questions I get the most, which is, why do you like / prefer records? I don’t use the vague “records have a better sound than other formats”. Honestly I probably wouldn’t be able to use this bullshit sentence and get passed a blind test.

A good explanation could be that I truly enjoy the whole process involved, in shopping for great records in obscure locations, the interactive process of browsing through used (or new ones, since they started pressing again) and eventually discovering a great artist that would have gone unknown to me if I just shopped as a responsive effect (i.e. looking for an artist I know) as most of online purchase I usually do.

Another very plausible explanation is that I love the social aspect of owning a good record collection (as I write I have something like over 350 records in Brazil and close to 100 here in the US). I have lost track of how many times that was the excuse to gather some friends at my place, to listen to some records and have beers and good talks from dusk till dawn.

Whatever the explanation the truth is that I like and it makes me feel good, so why the hell do I need to know the reason? To get by this question lately I just borrow my brother’s punch line: “ I like music with texture”.

Endings...

People are different (and also strange, according to the Doors) and react differently to similar situations. For me one of the most insightful dichotomies is how people deal with relationship break-ups.

There are some people that only remember the bad aspects and moments, or the times when the partner let you down. Either consciously (or most likely unconsciously) those people block all the good memories, the happy moments. This approach makes a clean and clear break-up much easier, and it usually lead to people drifting apart even as friends... after all, why would I want anything to do with THAT person?

Then there are those that once the relationship is over only remembers the good part of it, those lovely moments where everything made sense. All the small annoying details, the painful habits, all gone. Those are the ones that struggle to move on, and every now and then wonder "why did it end?...".

No matter on which side of the field you identify yourself with, it is always good to be aware - otherwise you may risk being either a sad person attached to these perfect ex-girlfriends, miserable cause you lost them, or a miserable person, unhappy about all those bastards (or bitches, pick your genre) that you have met and that wasted your time with bad relationships.

After all; life is not so black and white as our recollections and memories try to lead us to believe...