The thirty-third chair is the one you are sitting in. Every other seat at this table was a trader before you; this one is the trader now — a futures day trader keeping the same watch Thales kept, in a tower lit by screens instead of oil lamps. The seats before him left teachings. He leaves a journal, and the journal is music.

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The Journal

These are the MoneyWizard songs — written at the desk, between the bell and the close, the way another trader might keep a diary. Press play and the table shuffles through them. This is the sound of the roots: the 9:30 open, the fold, the bloom, the algos in the bag.