Invisible Hand; Mother of inflated Hope, Mistress of Despair.
Yes, it is 5:30 in the freaking morning. I have to get a story on this mess (PDF) ready for bed today and still have time for lunch with the publisher and other non-editorial bigwigs. I generally like to get up early, download news from my Global Domination Info Control Panel, and generally contemplate the universe before diving into the dirty details.
But not this early, sucking down Cafe Bustelo and $1/pack Indian reservation Internet cigarettes--I got to stop that this coming year--in my robe and slippers, perched on my new Aeron.
Human beings, it turns out, are wired to make dumb investing mistakes. What's more, we are wired not to learn from them, but to make them again and again. If there is consolation, it is that it's not our fault. We are born suckers. ... we are, in fact, sweating, breathing, herding, hoarding, pleasure-seeking, pain-avoiding animals who employ a looser definition of "rational" than computer chips.
I guess that it's not his fault, either, by the same token, that he's banned from the industry for life. He was just herding and hoarding and helplessly hedonistic.
Small triumph: Vindication for a controversial scoop we ran.