Chapter 1 – “Thirteen Doublings” Double a trading account

The Ladder of Thirteen

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And there was a trader whose balance was two hundred , and it was small in his own sight.

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And he said in his heart, “If I do not double a trading account and multiply this swiftly, my hunger shall mock me.”

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So he wrote upon a page the law of doubling, saying, Target = Start × 2ⁿ.

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He desired a target of one million, and his starting place was but two hundred.

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Then came the whisper of logarithms: n = log₂(Target ÷ Start).

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He divided one million by two hundred and beheld five thousand, and log₂(5000) was about 12.2877. But the market accepteth not fractions of doubling, so he rounded up unto thirteen, that his fantasy might overflow rather than fall short.
And a second voice arose from the house of numbers, saying, “Remember also the sequence of Fibonacci, for greed loveth patterns.” For the sequence is 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, and without end. And as n groweth large, the ratio of Fₙ₊₁ to Fₙ draweth near unto φ, the golden number, about 1.618. And the square root of five, being about 2.236, rounded in haste by men’s tongues as 2.24, standeth in the denominator of their sacred formula.

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Some say, “Behold, the thirteenth step of doubling is holy, for it aligneth with the thirteenth of Fibonacci and the mysteries of φ.”
Thus was the Ladder of Thirteen Doublings born: two hundred × 2¹³ = 1,638,400. The curve was near vertical, the very image of one who would double a trading account in record time and more.

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And when he traced that line, his pulse rose up against him, for the distance between his life and his fantasy was now thirteen steps wide.

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Then he said, “Surely this is the path of the chosen: only thirteen victories, and my name shall be great.”

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But the Gospel of Greed testifieth that this Ladder hath been the ruin of many accounts, and the quiet funeral of countless dreams.

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For between each rung of that Ladder lie the remains of those who trusted in power and might and lot size and leverage, yet despised strategy and discipline. Their balances reduced to zero, and usernames that no longer log in.

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Veterans speak of Thirteen only in low tones, for very few have climbed it, and fewer still with records unbroken.

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And even these confess that it was not attained by power nor might nor lot size nor leverage, but by strategy and discipline.

The Algebra of Greed

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Discipline colder than emotion, and methods that did not tremble when their maker did.

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Then the trader considered expectation, and it was written: E[Profit] = Σ (Outcomeᵢ × Probabilityᵢ). He saw that most paths ended at nothing.

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He beheld variance, and the standard deviation of his returns rose up like a beast from the sea.

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And then he remembered the words of Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, who said, “Even within chaotic systems, there is a pattern of limited probability.”

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And it was shown unto him that the market is not pure chaos, but a storm whose lightning yet obeyeth bounds.

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Many are the ways his balance might wander, yet only narrow corridors lead to lasting profit.

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So he understood that his task was not to banish randomness, but to find those corridors and walk them again and again, till his edge became as familiar to him as the layout of his own house.

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Wisdom drew E(t) before him, his equity as a function of time, and spake of the derivative dE/dt, the slope of his journey.

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“When thy risk is wild and thy mind unstable,” she said, “thy dE/dt lurches like a drunk man; spikes in pride and collapses in shame.”

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“But when thy rules are firm and thy size is measured. Thy dE/dt yet wavereth, but its long road inclineth upward.”

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And she shaded the area beneath his equity curve and named it the integral, ∫E(t) dt, saying, “This is the true harvest of thy years.”

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“Not one trade, nor one flip, but the total of thy obedience to process over time.”

Flesh, Steel, and the Blood Arena

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Nevertheless his eyes returned to the Ladder of Thirteen, for the flesh loveth to double a trading account by shortcut more than the covenant.

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Then spake the spirit of the machine, saying, “If thou wouldst chase such an exponent, trust not thy thumb alone.”

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“For no discretionary hand can dance with news candles and gaps as swiftly as circuits in a rack of steel.”

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In data centers unseen, packets fly to trading servers with latencies under ten milliseconds. Speeds no mortal reaction can match.

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Yet even there, the Gospel beareth witness that not even the best of automation and algorithm can guarantee Thirteen Doublings.

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Backtests flatter and forward tests seduce, but live markets remain unbothered by curves of the past.

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If the machines themselves tremble before the Ladder, how much more should mere mortals fear to boast?

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Therefore, whosoever saith, “My algorithm is worthy of Thirteen,” let him not boast in secret PDFs, nor in private Monte Carlo.

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Let him enter the Blood Arena, that all may see. So that his edge may be proven or his illusion crucified.

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There shall he either flip or die, like a prince who learned to recite poems and never to lift a sword.

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There his code shall be clothed in real slippage and real drawdown, and his courage in real time.

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If he endureth, let him speak no arrogance, for even then, variance hath not vanished; he hath only proven that he can bleed with honour.

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If he falleth, let him not curse the Ladder, but confess that he trusted more in fantasy than in design. Thus the Gospel of Greed proclaimeth: The Ladder of Thirteen Doublings is a mirror, not a promise; a trial, not a right. It remaineth a low-probability path in a narrow corridor of outcomes,
and wisdom dwelleth not in chasing it, but in understanding what it demands.

Monte Carlo of Desire: The Ten Altars

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And the trader pondered these sayings, and a new vision rose up before him.

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He said, “What if I do not lay all hope upon one altar?”

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“What if I open ten accounts with a hundred each, and the house addeth another hundred to every one, so that I stand with two thousand in buying power, each account a fresh attempt to double a trading account under different stars?”

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“What if I assign to each account its own engine: gold, oil, bitcoin, indices, currencies, and five more roaming the wild lands of volatility?”

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Ten automations, ten altars, ten separate ladders stretched toward Thirteen Doublings.

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In his mind he saw many lines falter and die at the third step, and others break at the fifth, and some fall at the ninth with a cry.

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Yet in that vision one line refused to bend to zero, and slowly it climbed, stumbling and rising, until it pressed into the higher rungs.

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And a whisper came, “What if, out of ten, even one should complete the Ladder? And what if more than one survives to double a trading account beyond all expectation?”

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For ten seeds had he sown, ten storms had he entered, and the picture of such an outcome made even a calm heart beat strangely.

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The Gospel of Greed acknowledgeth this fire, yet warneth: “For every curve that rises in thy dreams, a thousand died unseen.”

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If thou must burn for such a vision, burn with instruments on; let thy accounts be governed by law, that if the impossible occur, it may find thee prepared, and if it fail, thy ruin be measured, not total. For greed needeth but one flame to set the soul alight, and the picture of ten engines striving to double a trading account toward Thirteen Doublings is fire enough to warm many cold nights.

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He that hath imagination, let him see it; he that hath discipline, let him chain it; for between those two stand the stories that turn men into princes—or princes into ashes, all from the desire to double a trading account and touch the Ladder of Thirteen.