It’s coming, slow but sure (or at least pretty sure): delicious meat made of peas and stuff, not the vast quantities of water and oil and suffering required to make a steak or chicken salad. Click here: ” Good Food Institute Aims to Make Animal Products Obsolete.”
Meanwhile, your fellow reader Janet Tavakoli has resurrected William Worthington Fowler’s 1880 Twenty Years of Inside Life in Wall Street or Revelations of the Personal Experience of a Speculator, annotating it for the modern reader.
In 1985 [she writes], I attended Salomon Brothers’ infamous Liar’s Poker training class. My boss handed me a copy of Edwin Lefevre’s [classic] Reminiscences of a Stock Operator, the entertaining biography of Jesse Livermore. I thought it was a pretty good book. But I later learned it pales in comparison to William Worthington Fowler’s much earlier autobiography . . . as relevant today as it was in 1880.
The physical book is expected in a few days, but click here and then “look inside” (click just above the book’s photo) to read her foreword. You may decide to blow $9.99 on the Kindle edition, as I did.
Where you or I will find time to read this enticing volume is an open question. I still haven’t seen Straight Outta Compton or switched to Fios or cleaned my windows (Renee is wonderful four hours a week, but Renee doesn’t do windows) — all items on a very long to-do list . . . nor visited most of the 250 places on this list nor raised nearly enough money to assure the best possible outcome November 8, which sounds like just one more thing to do but actually will determine the nature of the Supreme Court for the next 20 or 30 years, among much else . . . and it is the Court that gave us Bush and the Iraq War and a wrecked national balance sheet, and then — moved further right by Bush — gave us Citizens United, McCutcheon, and the decision that gutted the Voting Rights Act, all serving to shift yet more power to the already powerful.
So much to do! (Click here.)
Fortunately, it’s only Monday.
Quote of the Day
Oil's been discovered in hell! shouts a stockbroker at the Pearly Gates. All bolt; he follows. I know why THEY'RE running, St. Peter says, but why you? Who knows, says the broker. Maybe there's something to it!~old joke
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