As soon as Dodd Frank is executed, the political-dating scene starts pitching, throws you into the pool owned by the banks. I think we’ll see fireworks blazing, parallel to fiduciary ethics’s total obliteration, fully exposed to daylight. We’re lost, for a second, “in the slumbering gaze” equipped with unsound investments yielding bad advice.

I feel obligated to bequeath my place at the rear of the line to defeated generations swimming backwards, expecting a shield.