Wall Street is a thoroughfare with a river at one end and a cemetery at the other. Not long ago, brokers were fantasizing at the water's edge, wondering whether they should buy the Boston Whaler or peddle a few more shares and go for the 46-ft. cabin cruiser. Today they are at the other end of the street, dressed in black, standing at the grave and stealing furtive looks at one another, wondering who will be the next to go.
No one can say the warning wasn't loud and clear. Loud, anyway. There was the eminent economist Charlie Sheen, strutting through...
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