Horst

[Fiona Shnapple]

Horst, a stolid guy when he's with his kids, can't possibly survive,
let alone succeed in the Chicago Pits unless he can put on a game face
and fight. He doesn't like to lose, lose control, or lose his
aggregates, his collections, of baseball cards, of B&J's Chunky Monkey
Ice Cream.

But he's gonna lose his seat. You need a seat to trade.  The computer
traders buggy whip his job. His seat loses value. The bomb in the
basement, then the planes, accelerate the inexorable force of
technology, a force fiercer and greater than greed.

It's magic. Fortune's wheel forces Horst up through the faults. His
timing is of the essence. He is at the bottom of the wheel when the
super cycle in commodities turns him into a super rich man.

But the computer traders are fucked too. Those that are commodities
traders. So Horst, got lucky when the planes hit in so many ways, he
can't even count his blessings. Maybe that's Grace?

That super cycle just ended.



 http://online.wsj.com/news/articles/SB10001424127887324144304578619672666497416
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Pynchon-l / http://www.waste.org/mail/?list=pynchon-l