It isn't a flattering portrayal, necessarily.

In "The Wolf of Wall Street," Martin Scorsese's upcoming adaptation of a book about criminal excess in finance, Daniel Porush is an executive at Stratton Oakmont. It's a hedonistic, morally bankrupt business, and in the book and the movie, Porush (played by Jonah Hill in the movie) is a ringleader.

The real Daniel Porush told Mother Jones that he takes issue with some of "Wolf of Wall Street's" scenes — namely that they didn't happen.

From Mother Jones:

Porush says he never heard anyone at the firm refer to Belfort as the "wolf." And while sex was nearly as integrated into office life as the scams that made the firm's owners millions, Porush strongly denies a long-established piece of Stratton lore detailed in the book, and dramatized in the film adaptation: that brokers became so debauched that Belfort was forced to issue a memo declaring the office a "f**k-free zone" from 8 a.m. to 7 p.m. on workdays.

Porush also takes issue with the massive office party, complete with dwarf throwing and a monkey on roller skates:

"There was never a chimpanzee in the office," Porush maintains. "There were no animals in the office ... I would also never abuse an animal in any way." And while Porush admits the firm hired little people to attend and mingle at at least one party, "we never abused [or threw] the midgets in the office; we were friendly to them," he emphasizes. "There was no physical abuse."

Porush did, however, once tell a trader to shape up, or he'd eat the trader's goldfish. When the trader's performance wasn't up to snuff, Porush ate the goldfish as promised.

So there's that.

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This is pretty solid timing.

OneWire, the financial career site, just published its interview with Eduardo Mestre, Senior Managing Director and Chairman of Global Advisory at boutique investment bank Evercore Partners.

In the interview, Mestre talks a lot about how Wall Street has changed since the financial crisis, an apt discussion since yesterday, regulators unanimously vote to instate the Volcker Rule — a regulation meant to reduce risk (and end the reward that comes with it) in the banking system.

“The last few years have been tough for a lot of the industry," Mestre admitted. "I think the financial crisis of 2008 to 2009 was very impactful and brought into question the business model that especially the big firms created for themselves. The industry has been trying to deal with that: trying to figure out what its best path is going forward.”

Evercore isn't one of those big firms. It was founded in 1996 by Roger Altman, a former Deputy Treasury Secretary in the Clinton Administration. Since then, it's gained a lot of respect on the Street, especially for doing deals and helping companies grow.

Those are businesses that will always be needed in the American economy, Mestre argues. They're why Wall Street will never really disappear.

He explained: “At the end of the day, clients still need Wall Street, certainly in terms of raising capital—that’s a classical function—and also in terms of advice…the fundamentals are still there, but I think the industry is certainly in transition..and it may be in that state for a while as we get the complete fallout from what was a very difficult time for the industry.”

What the full interview in a video below. For more interviews with big Wall Street names, head to OneWire.com:

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Politico's Ben White and Maggie Haberman have taken a deep dive into Wall Street's fraught relationship with Washington.

Writing in Politico Magazine (the publication's new longform progeny), White and Haberman characterize why bankers are so upset with both Democrats and Republicans.

Two paragraphs get to the heart of it. From Politico:

On both sides of the political spectrum, the titans of American finance today find themselves alienated from politics to a surprising degree. On the left, the rift has been precipitated by populist outrage and a damaged, difficult relationship with the White House. The discord and disappointment has simmered for years, and is now boiling toward the surface on both sides, particularly for donors who felt burned and spurned by a White House they helped elect…

Meanwhile, on the right, the estrangement owes to the failures of Mitt Romney’s presidential campaign — a loss that has prompted Wall Street donors to sit on their cash and question the return that their investments in Republican politics can generate…This is not the first time that Wall Street has found itself at odds with one of the political parties in Washington. But it may be the first time since the Great Depression that the New York banker class has been this disconnected from both parties simultaneously.

The piece goes on to document how Wall Street's "initial rosy expectations" for its relationship with Obama — largely due to hefty campaign donations — have been all but dashed.

Read the full piece at Politico Magazine »

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Slices of ice the size of footballs are again falling off the side of the Bank of America tower in Manhattan, and the building has put out barriers and warning signs on the sidewalk to help pedestrians avoid being hit.

It's not a trivial matter: BofA Tower is, at 55 floors, 1,200-feet tall.

New York is currently in the midst of a cold snap following a brief snowstorm — and it has left everything covered in hard, brittle ice.

A source who works inside the BofA building told Business Insider that it's slightly terrifying. The ice isn't falling in the form of traditional, Christmassy icicles, but rather in "slices" or sheets. They're big enough to cause injury, we're told.

This happens every winter. The New York Times wrote in 2011:

Ice sheets the size of dinner plates slid off the Bank of America building at 42nd Street and Avenue of the Americas, a sleek glass tower whose top disappeared in fog. Chunks crashed against nearby buildings.

The site was clear of ice when we visited one recent evening, however:

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The Midtown Manhattan penthouse Leonardo DiCaprio's character Jordan Belfort used in the upcoming film "The Wolf Of Wall Street" is on the market, New York Daily News reported. 

The Penthouse B at the Milan Condominium at 300 East 55th is for sale for $6.495 million.

"Million Dollar Listing" star/Nestseekers broker Ryan Serhant has the listing, the NYDN report said.  

The apartment is the location of the infamous scene where Belfort's crew beat up the butler and dangled him over the balcony threatening to drop him.  

The Penthouse is located on the 32nd floor of the Milan Condominium in Midtown East. It offers stunning views of the East River.

This is where Belfort's crew beat up the butler, Patrick, after Belfort's mistress Nadine caught him having a gay orgy in the apartment. 'Victor threw the first punch and Patrick's face exploded into raw hamburger meat...,' Belfort wrote in his memoir.

The Wolf Of Wall Street 

After it was revealed that Patrick took $50,000 from Belfort's sock drawer, Victor Wang hung him over the ledge of the balcony and threatened to drop him.

The Wolf Of Wall Street 

There's a free screening of "The Wolf Of Wall Street" on Wednesday night at 6 p.m. EST in Battery Park City. 

You can RSVP to watch the film at TheWolfOfWallStreet.com [via Bloomberg TV].

It will be playing at the Regal Battery Park City, which is located behind Goldman Sachs' offices at 200 West Street. 

"The Wolf Of Wall Street" is the movie adaptation of Jordan Belfort's tell-all memoir from his days of running a boiler room in the 90s.  The movie stars Leonardo DiCaprio, Matthew McConaughey and Jonah Hill and it's directed by Martin Scorsese.   

It debuts in theaters on Christmas Day. 

Watch the trailer here: 

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You don't get to be the CEO of a private equity firm without seeing a few things on Wall Street.

And in an interview with finance career site OneWire, Jeff Kelter, CEO and Founder of private equity firm KTR Capital Partners says that in his time in the business, what he's seen is that the road to Wall Street glory is changing.

It used to be that you went to a bulge bracket firm (JP Morgan, Goldman... what have you) as an analyst, worked your way up to associate, then went to business school. Armed with your MBA, you could join the buy-side. And boom just like that — instant finance pro.

Not so anymore, says Kelter.

“I have kids that come see me now after graduating from college and they say I want to go through an analyst program, and then I want to get my MBA, and then I want to go into real estate. And they forget the marketing side and they forget the operating side.”

But Wall Street needs people that know marketing. It needs people that know how to run a business.

“There are a lot of people who want to do finance and not a lot of jobs,” he explains, “So sequentially, it almost doesn’t matter—if you go into marketing first and you work for a real estate company leasing space, you can check that box. Then you go to business school and you start learning the financial aspects of real estate and check that box. And then you go learn the operating side of the business. And so the sequence can be different today than it was when I did it.”

To hear how Kelter did it, watch the full interview below and visit OneWire to subscribe to the series.

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JPMorgan Chase CEO Jamie Dimon and his family (wife Judy, daughters Kara, Laura and Julia and son-in-law Joey and family dog) have an awesome holiday card. 

It's a panoramic photo that captures the chaos and love in the Dimon home in an epic indoor tennis match.  

We must say that Jamie Dimon's backhand form is pretty impressive. 

You can see the full card at Quartz.

Jamie Dimon's holiday card http://t.co/50r5Yr0b4xpic.twitter.com/uMsLuVWl6A

— Zach Seward (@zseward) December 17, 2013

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Last night was the New York City premiere of the highly-anticipated film, "The Wolf Of Wall Street." 

The movie is an adaptation of Jordan Belfort's best-selling tell-all memoir that chronicles his boozy, drug-fueled hard-partying lifestyle as a Wall Street hustler running a 90s-era boiler room. 

The film stars Leonardo DiCaprio, Margot Robbie Matthew McConaughey and Jonah Hill. It's directed by Martin Scorsese. 

Business Insider's Linette Lopez got to see it last night and has a review of the film.

We've also included photos from the red carpet in the slides that follow. 

The highly coveted tickets for last night's NYC premiere and after party.

The 'red' carpet...

The NYC premiere was at the Ziegfeld Theater in Midtown Manhattan.

CNN's senior investigative producer Scott Zamost uncovered some home videos of the real life "Wolf Of Wall Street" during his hard partying days. 

Jordan Belfort (a.k.a. "The Wolf") is the author of a tell-all memoir chronicling his boozy, drug fueled high-flying Wall Street lifestyle running a 90s-era boiler room Stratton Oakmont. 

The book has been adapted into a movie directed by Martin Scorsese and starring Leonardo DiCaprio. It debuts on Christmas Day.  You can check out a review here from Business Insider's Linette Lopez. 

In the meantime, CNN's Zamost has a bunch of video clips of the real Belfort partying it up in the Hamptons and on his yacht.  Belfort called it "Adult Disney Land for dysfunctional people." 

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Legendary investor Warren Buffett, who runs Berkshire Hathaway, made about $37 million each day this year, a new survey from Wealth-X shows.

That breaks down to $1.54 million per hour each day (yes, even while he's sleeping).  It also works out to be just over $25,694 per minute.  

According to the survey, the Oracle of Omaha's current net-worth is now an estimated $59.1 billion.

A bunch of other billionaires, especially from the tech industry, were clocking in over a million-dollars per hour, too, in 2013.  

Here's a rundown of how the ten biggest billionaire gainers made on an hourly and per minute rate: (Wealth-X made their calculations based on 345 days)

• Warren Buffett:  He made $12.7 billion this year or ~$37 million per day; ~$1.54 million per hour; or ~$25,694 per minute.
• Bill Gates: He earned $11.5 billion this year which works out to be ~$33.3 million per day; $1.38 million per hour; or ~$23,148 per minute. 
• Sheldon Adelson: The casino mogul earned $11.4 billion this year which means he made ~$33 million per day; ~$1.38 million per hour; or $22,946 per minute.
• Jeff Bezos: He made $11.3 billion this year or ~$32.7 million per day; $1.36 million per hour; or ~$22,745 per minute. 
• Mark Zuckerberg: The Facebook founder made $10.5 billion this year or ~$30.4 million per day; ~$1.27 million per hour; or ~$21,135 per minute.
• Masayoshi Son: He made $10.3 billion this year or ~$29.86 billion per day; ~$1.24 million per hour; or $20,732 per minute.
• Sergey Brin: He made $9.3 billion this year which works out to be ~$26.9 million per day, $1.12 million per hour; or $18,719 per minute.
• Larry Page: He made $9.3 billion this year which works out to be ~$26.9 million per day, $1.12 million per hour; or $18,719 per minute.
• Lu Chee Woo: He brought in $8.3 billion this year or ~$24 million per day; ~$1 million per hour; or ~$16,706 per minute.
• Carl Icahn: The billionaire investor made $7.2 billion this year, which works out to be ~$20.87 million/day; ~$869,565/hour; or ~$14,492/minute.

Here's the Wealth-X press release: 

New York, 18 December, 2013 – Warren Buffett made about US$37 million per day in 2013, according to calculations by Wealth-X, making him the billionaire who made the most money this year.

With a gain of US$12.7 billion in 2013, the legendary billionaire investor and notable philanthropist’s net worth at the end of the year stands at US$59.1 billion. That, however, does not make Buffett the wealthiest billionaire on the list. That title goes to Microsoft chairman Bill Gates, who added US$11.5 billion to his personal fortune in 2013, ending the year with assets totaling US$72.6 billion.

In number three spot on the list is American casino mogul Sheldon Adelson, who raked in US$11.4 billion in 2013 from his gambling properties in Las Vegas, Macau and Singapore. His personal net worth is estimated to be more than US$35 billion.

The individuals on the top 10 list collectively gained $101.8 billion in 2013, an average gain of US$10.2 billion each. The combined wealth of the 10 individuals now totals US$347 billion, up from US$245 billion in January 2013.

On average, they made US$29 million per day in 2013, and increased their wealth by 41.6 percent, outperforming the 24 percent returns seen in the S&P 500 this year.

Below are the top 10 gainers of 2013:

* All figures in US$ billion

Editor’s Note: Valuations are for the period between 1 January to 11 December, 2013. The amounts gained per day are based on 345 days (from 1 January to 11 December, 2013).

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Tucked behind the Goldman Sachs building at 200 West Street, the Regal Battery Park theater was a fitting venue for last night's free advanced screening of "The Wolf of Wall Street," Martin Scorsese's highly-anticipated biopic about '90s-era pump-and-dump charlatan Jordan Belfort.

Disturbing: Belfort's decadence.

Equally disturbing: the finance-heavy audience's gleeful reaction to his behavior and legal wrongdoings.

Credit Scorsese and Leonardo DiCaprio, who played Belfort, for keeping the high-octane, drug-filled movie entertaining for three hours (the longest Scorsese film by about 60 seconds).

But my one major gripe was pretty simple: Jordan Belfort defrauded a lot of people — and by the nature of his penny stock transgressions, many low-income people — out of a ton of money. He then used that money, as one does, on cocaine, hookers, cars, and yachts. It may be great cinema to document his exploits, but there's a fine line between satirizing Wall Street's excess and celebrating Belfort's lifestyle.

Put simply, the film could have done a better job making Belfort look like a villain.

Or maybe the film did do that, and we were just watching with the wrong crowd. There were a lot of finance pros there. The theater is in Manhattan's financial district and the movie has "Wall Street" in the name, after all. Plus you can actually see into Goldman's trading room floor from the escalator.

There's a lot of talk about how Wall Street has "changed" since the financial crisis. Compliance is up, bonuses are down, the holiday parties are boring.

But you wouldn't necessarily know that from what these guys were cheering at.

When Belfort — a drug addict who later attempts to remain sober — rips up a couch cushion to get to his secret coke stash, there were cheers.

Then, intercut with Popeye eating spinach, Belfort is irrevocably high on Quaaludes (or "ludes," a muscle relaxer) and dumps coke into his nose to remedy the situation — more cheers.

The worst, though, mild spoiler alert ... At one point later in the movie, the feds get Belfort to wear a wire to implicate others at his firm. Meeting with his No. 2, Belfort slides over a piece of paper: "Don't incriminate yourself. I am wearing a wire."

And the crowd goes wild. Don't rat! Stand by your firm!

Bankers: First of all, don't cheer in a movie. It's weird. You can laugh, but no cheering. Second, guffawing while Leo attempts to evade federal indictment doesn't exactly help America's perception of your societal value.

Hopefully this kind of euphoria was confined to one boozy, Financial District pre-screening (Paramount gave us popcorn and martinis upon entrance), because it would be a real shame if Martin Scorsese just accidentally inspired the future Jordan Belforts of the world.

SEE ALSO: The Best And Worst Things About 'The Wolf Of Wall Street'

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The best hedge funds get in and get out, says a study to be presented by a University of Kentucky professor.

Bloomberg reports that finance professor Russel Jame's study has found that the tpo 30% of hedge funds outperform by making short term, contrarian bets.

It also finds that 25% of a fund's annual performance occurs a month after a big winning trade.

In other words — when they score. They score big.

From Bloomberg:

The winning funds are net buyers of so-called growth stocks, which are those of companies whose earnings are forecast to grow faster than the market average. They also don’t trade more frequently or more profitably prior to corporate earnings’ announcements, undermining any idea that insider trading explains how they make profits.

Remember this one, y'all.

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Chris Arnade left his job as a foreign exchange trader at a major investment bank to pursue photography full-time.

He's not your typical photographer, though.

Arnade, who is very critical of Wall Street, spends his time in some of the city's roughest neighborhoods.

Some of his most powerful work comes from Hunts Point, Bronx, where he has photographed hundreds of drug addicts. Along with his photos, Arnade writes down his subjects' stories, with help from writer Cassie Rodenberg.

Below is a sample of photos and stories from Arnade's "Faces Of Addiction."

You can follow him on Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, and Flickr.

A small moment on a snowy evening

Sonya was past complaining about the eye. The feet were the issue. The Uggs knockoffs, great when dry, were now a frozen mush of fur and dirt.

A month of cold weather was wearing. She rubbed the eye, “I can still see out of it, so it's not getting worse.”

My phone rang. Shelly had three minutes to speak, her call of the day from Rikers. “When you coming to visit? Did you get my stuff?”

I handed the phone to Sonya who made two minutes of promises. They have been living under the same bridge for the last three weeks.

The line clicked dead before I could talk more.

“He wants his make-up saved. He hid it before he got arrested.”

Shelly. Arrested for shoplifting in the CVS. Always the same CVS. One month in Rikers. A forced detox for Christmas.

Sonya limped towards the drug dealers clustered on the corner, looking for Xanax. “Five sticks. I can make it through detox if I have five sticks.”

The Ritual of Drugs

Shelly bent over, focused on the items arrayed in front of her: Needle, cap, water, lighter, and cotton. All lit by candle.

She spilled the heroin into the cap, added water, heated it into syrup. She dropped in a small swab of cotton, inserted the needle into the swab, and drew up the liquid.

She looked down at her left forearm, slapped a vein, and slowly put in the needle, drawing up the blood to mix with the heroin.

She blew on the needle, and pushed the blood and heroin back in. Her face and body went slack.

Ritual of Drugs 2

A low needs a high, especially a low that now only gets you straight, keeps the sick away.

Find any pipe, everyone has one. Pepsi keeps hers jammed in her bra. "Jessica keep hers jammed in her pussy. Cops won't go searching there."

Place a wad of screen in end of pipe. Pour a few rocks onto it.

Two lungs full, that is all you need.

Five seconds of euphoria. Ten minutes of paranoia.

"Reality is no TV show"

Sonya knows how to look bad. It helps her make money panhandling. Today she wasn’t panhandling. It was too cold and wet for that.

She just looked bad.

The snow had beat down her camp, now a pile of garbage and just the outline of a tent. When the wind blows hard enough, like today, the Bruckner, fifteen feet above, provides little protection. It was also a dumb decision to build on low-lying land.

She sat in the mud working on her foot, the only place with a vein that wasn’t corrupted. For five minutes she sat there, snow collecting on her hair, water working its way into her pants, and tried to make a needle go where it wasn’t wanted.

The busses, BX 6 and BX 7, came by every five minutes, spraying slush over the camp. Sonya stayed still focused on the needle, on the vein that wasn’t much of a vein anymore.

“SHIT! You fucking piece of shit! Go in damn you.”

She finally quit, rolling her sock back onto her foot, her foot back into the boots. Everything was wet.

“My eye, it’s red and oozing. Hard to open. My ear hurts. It was fine last night. I might have gotten glass in it. Glass is everywhere.”

I offered to take her to the hospital, but Sonya doesn’t like help, doesn’t like doctors, and doesn’t like needing anyone. Except that dirty bastard of a husband of hers, Eric. (Yes, Eric, when you are in detox and clean and reading this, you know that is what she calls you. It’s what you call yourself after all. You know she loves you more than anyone loves someone else. Still, you are a dirty bastard of a husband.)

She smiled though. Sonya always manages a smile.

She asked about my children, about my Thanksgiving, about me. “You look tired Chris. You need some rest.”

We went into the Bodega and she watched a TV she couldn’t understand. She stood there for fifteen minutes, absorbing the heat and dry, laughing at the Spanish show, a drama about prisons and drugs.

Actors shot pretend drugs into their arms and yelled at each other.

“Everyone looks so clean. I guess they got a better drugs down there in Mexico. Reality is no TV show.”

Bedside table for a place with no bed

* Needles
* Crack Pipes
* Cigs
* Lighters
* Condoms
* Make-up kit
* Pipe cleaners
* Mixing caps
* Methadone program ID
* Semi-sterile water
* Left over McDonalds

A coincidence revealed between hits of crack, between dates, sitting in a dark van

A man had just left, a small man hidden behind jackets, a man who paid $20 to have his dick sucked. Ramone had also left, to buy gas and drugs for Sarah and himself.

Alone, Sarah and I talked about Thanksgiving, about being in the country, about being away from the city. She told of going to nature camp in Vermont when she was younger. “It was my happiest moments, we raised the animals, swam, and every night we sat in a circle and told what was on our mind. Nobody made fun of anyone else. It was a Quaker camp, called Farm and Wilderness. I stopped going my last year, I still regret that decision.”

I asked, “Farm and Wilderness, in Plymouth Vermont? My wife went to that camp.”

I called my wife and [she and] Sarah spoke, reminiscing about a place they both attended, but at different times.

Sarah put down the phone, took in hit of crack. “I loved that place. Loved it. Do you mind staying here alone for a bit. I got to run over to that truck. Will only be fifteen minutes.”

A van for three

Jennifer arrived with $200, manic and generous. Enough money to let her stay the night, enough money to start the van and run the heat, enough money for McDonalds, enough money for Ramone to run to Gilbert Street, past the man hunched against the wind, through the door opened with a brick, up the stairs, into an apartment sweet with crack.

$180 worth of drugs to bring back. Enough drugs to turn an old van into a drug trap.

Ramone couldn’t hit, his vein was too stingy. He could draw the blood out, mixing with heroin in the syringe, but it stayed there. He couldn’t push it back in. Sarah held a light to his arm, encouraged him, keeping him calm.

Jennifer laughed, crackling to herself, manic, rearranging her purse, her pipe, her dildo, her lighter, her condoms, her makeup, her purse again, her pipe again. A date was coming. A date, despite the cold, despite the wind. Can you believe it? Did you see the pipe? Did you? Do you know where the condoms are? You have a lighter? Where is the pipe? WHERE IS THE PIPE?

Jennifer left, under dressed for the cold.

Ramone pulled the needle, still filled with heroin and blood. He took in two pipes of crack, put on his layers. Back to Gilbert Street. Another bag. Maybe this one would be lucky.

Sarah, alone in the van, let in a man, hidden beneath layers. She turned off the flashlight as he lowered his pants.

Takeesha and Carmela: Hunts Point, Bronx

Both were raped by family members before they were ten.

Both escaped to the Bronx streets: Takeesha at eleven and Carmela at twelve.

Both started prostituting by thirteen. Carmela found men gave her things in exchange for her body. Takeesha’s mother sold her.

Both started injecting heroin into their bodies soon after.

Both have fought with addiction, the police, and men since.

Both now have a habit that is close to $200 a day: Heroin to kill the sickness and crack to get a “little something.”

Takeesha still believes in love. “I did love Steve. He got an anger problem but I can be a crazy bitch.”

Carmela does not. “Love? There is no love out here. People only want what they can get from you.”

Both are now together. “We stayed up the first night talking and talking. We both like, “wow this person really understands what I have been through, understands I ain’t just trash.’ We watch each other’s back. Right girl?”

The War on Drugs

The police, narcotics, and vice all swarmed Hunts Point two weeks ago in a crackdown that netted low-level possession, dealing, and prostitution charges. It also ensnared Takeesha who is now serving a two-month sentence in Rikers.

This is common. Presently ten of my Bronx subjects sit in Rikers or upstate New York prisons on non-violent drug charges.

When I left Hunts Point after Takeesha’s arrest I stopped by a bar close to my home in Brooklyn to write and drink a few beers.

I often do this to collect my thoughts. I try to choose bars without a large drug scene, without lines to use the bathrooms, without annoying coked-out customers. That is hard to do since cocaine, pills, and other drugs are a reality of the Brooklyn and Manhattan bar scene.

The drugs are done by white affluent customers.

I have never seen any arrests. I have never seen anyone worried about being arrested.

The stark difference I see between how drugs are treated in the Bronx and brownstone Brooklyn is jarring but not surprising. The statistics show exactly the same thing.

The war on drugs is a war on the poor.

It is as simple as that.

From one addict to another

She slumped, arms splayed on the table, the pupils of her eyes pinholes. He watched their stuff; six plastic bags overflowing with clothes.

They looked out of sorts in Hunts Point. White with New England accents, wearing second hand clothes, overly tight, or loose sweaters and slacks.

An hour later they were asked to leave, their table needed to be cleaned. They walked into the McDonalds parking lot, hugged, and made out. She grabbed his crotch and smiled. Both laughed.

They walked up the hill, towards the auto stores, counting their money. $9.50.

They passed Sarah and Ramone, both who where resting before the three-mile walk to their methadone clinic.

The woman stopped and looked at Sarah, “You got fifty cents? We need it for the subway.” Sarah was putting on makeup, trying to hide the dirt from a night sleeping outdoors.

Sarah smiled, “You new ain’t you.”

“We from Boston, on an adventure, towards the west. They told us to leave Manhattan, to come here. We didn’t know Hunts Point was so bad, so many drugs. We don’t do that. We just trying to make it on the cheap.”

Sarah rolled up her sleeves, held out her arms, “It’s ok, you can tell me. I been doing it all my life.”

“Naaaa. That ain’t us. We just looking for an adventure.”

Sarah handed them a quarter. “It’s all I got.”

The couple smiled. “My name’s Wendy. Maybe we see each other around.” They walked away.

Sarah went back to putting on makeup. “Why lie to another addict? Why? She don’t think I can see it in her eyes, in her clothes, in her hair? She don’t think I saw her passed out on the corner the other day? You can’t start getting clean unless you admit it to yourself and others.”

A dollar so I don't die

“I found the hat on the ground. At first I thought it was a dead animal. It’s really warm. Really warm.”

“I am sure there is a kid who lost it, who wants it back. When I am walking I am waiting for a child to run up to me and say, ‘That’s mine!’ although they probably too scared of me.”

“When I stand panhandling I always remember an old addict I knew in Philadelphia. She was cold, tired, and hungry, and nobody was giving her anything. Eventually she just started saying, ‘Can I have a dollar so I WON’T DIE! JUST A DOLLAR TO KEEP ME ALIVE.’ Some days I feel like that.”

Deja: Hunts Point, Bronx

Déjà’s mother was a crack addict and prostitute. At five Déjà started raising the other five children in the house. All shared a mother and none shared a father.

At nine her mother was taken away and the children split up. Déjà ran away from her foster family at twelve and came out as a woman. “I picked up all sorts of habits. I started doing things I don’t do, including smoking crack like my momma did.”

She has been in Hunts Point only a week, “I relapsed so here I am.”

She lives with Michael in an empty lot, working the track at night. “The only way I can prostitute is to drink and to do cocaine. How can you pretend to love and have sex otherwise? Addiction makes you do things you don't want to do.”

She sat in the cold spray of the hydrant, cooling off.

“I want the white picket fence, the Tupperware parties, the husband and kids.”

“Dream? That’s a fairy tale not a dream. Out here you can’t have dreams.”

Jennifer: Hunts Point, Bronx 

"I'm very intelligent but sometimes I feel disgusting because of what I do. I'm not really too happy with life, but I'm happy to be alive." -- Jennifer

Jennifer, 21, grew up with various foster parents. Her biological mother and father were addicts. She remembers the smell of drugs from being a child.

The sexual abuse started at 7 and continued until she fled her foster home. “My virginity was taken by my step brother. He raped me when I was 12. Raped me repeatedly.”

She now sells her body in Hunts Point for drugs, mostly heroin. She started crying as she told me her story.

"Because of the sexual abuse, sometimes I don't like having sex because it does bother me mentally. But if it's fast, quick money...like I said, I'm homeless. I have nothing. I grew up in a fucked up situation. Because of my father and brother, I'm screwed up in the brain right now. I'm not scared to say what I am and what I do. I see so many prostitutes who deny it. Don't be ashamed of who you are."

SEE ALSO: Here's the part of New York that tourists don't see [PHOTOS]

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Legendary New York Stock Exchange floor trader Art Cashin, the director of floor operations for UBS Financial Services, has released his annual Wall Street Christmas poem.  

The poem includes many of the year's events including the Fed, the Boston Red Sox, Anthony Weiner and Bitcoin.  

It's read to the tune of "Twas The Night Before Christmas." 

Check it out: 

MONDAY, DECEMBER 23, 2013

A TRADITIONAL PRESENTATION

‘Tis two days before Christmas

and at each brokerage house

The only thing stirring

was the click of a mouse

Down on the Exchange

the tape inches along

Brokers bargained and traded

as they hummed an old song

The Fed kept on printing

yet few jobs did appear

But it's time to move on

so they'll taper next year

Boston won the World Series

Baltimore took the Bowl

But Tiger still struggles

to get the ball in the hole

From Bitcoins to Binge-viewing

brand new things did occur

And the Prez took a selfie

that caused quite a stir

There was a government shutdown

most folks called it a sham

And to slow down the Senate

a guy read "Green Eggs and Ham"

In Cleveland three women

finally freed of their fears

Held captive by a mad man

for nearly ten years

The Pope said he resigned

an occurrence quite rare

A new Pope named Francis

new sits in that chair

Back tried Spitzer and Weiner

they brought little to cheer

But it’s Christmastime, Alice

and Santa is near

So stop looking backwards

have a cup of good cheer

And kiss you a loved one

raise your hopes for next year

And amidst all the trading

Christmas themes we will heed

And share our good fortune

with families in need

And tomorrow they’ll pause

as we wait on the bell

To sing a tradition

a song for old “Nell”

Don’t let this year’s problems

impede Christmas Cheer

Resolve to be happy

throughout the New Year

And resist ye Grinch feelings

let joy never stop

Put the bad at the bottom

keep the good on the top

So count up your blessings

along with your worth

You’re still living here

in the best place on earth

And think ye of wonders

that light children's eyes

And hope Santa will bring you

that Christmas surprise

So play ye a carol

by Mario Lanza

Unless you are waiting

to celebrate Kwanzaa

Hanukkah’s over

And Ramadan’s gone

Different folks, different holidays

yet each spirit lives on

Whatever your feast is

we hope you all still

Find yourself just surrounded

by folks of goodwill

Tuesday, as the bell rings

hark to your heart’s call

And as Santa would shout

Merry Christmas to All!

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A few years after leaving Wall Street, Scott Mead, a former top Goldman Sachs investment banker, made a remarkable discovery while moving some boxes from his attic.

Or rediscovery, that is. 

Mead, who is known for advising Vodafone's nearly $200 billion takeover of Mannesmann, brought down boxes of old his photographs, negatives and cameras that had not been touched in years.

"I was aware it was sort of the physical baggage--the physical manifestation of some baggage we all park in our brains.  So I brought these down just partly out of curiosity, partly for some inexplicable reason."

He described this rediscovery process to us as "the most overwhelming experience." 

Click here to see his photos »

"It was like traveling back in time," he explained adding that it was like "getting to know another person." 

Mead, who grew up passionate about photography, spent the next year educating himself again and editing and printing these photos he had taken more than 30 years ago.  

"Since then, it has been a really amazing journey — exhilarating, humbling and everything in between." 

Eighteen months after bringing those boxes down, he put on an exhibition from several of the 8x10 negatives he found and printed called "Looking Back" at London's Hamilton Gallery.

Since then, he has done a number of exhibitions. Of the photographs he sells, 100% of the proceeds go to charity.

Mead has kindly shared some of the photos from his "Looking Back" portfolio with us in the slides that follow.

A few things you should know about the collection before you see them — The reason the images in this portfolio are round is because that's the way the human eye sees the world, Mead explained.

This technique brings the viewer back to a more authentic perception of what an eye, or in this case the camera lens, sees.  The black around it, particularly with the portraits, helps create a framing, highlighting the center of the compositions, he told us.  

Mead told us he first started taking photos at age 13 when he was given a press camera by his grandfather, who was a press photographer and journalist.  

From there, he taught himself how to develop photographs and spent a huge amount of time in his parents' basement.  

He was so enthusiastic about photography, that he studied it in high school and in college.  He focused on photography intensively until his 20s.  

When he began his 22-year investment banking career, photography eventually moved to the back-burner.

That being said, one of the key messages from his work is to highlight these beautiful moments that we might otherwise miss in our extremely busy lives.

"They are about finding what are ordinary places, times of day, patterns of light or shapes which we often overlook in the day to day of all of our busy lives and making them special through composition, print quality and balance—and hopefully conveying a sense of tranquility and peace," he told Business Insider.

First, let's meet our photographer, Scott Mead.

Here's a more recent photo of him. Amazing, right?

Apple Tree, 1974

If you're considering going to Wall Street, you should really know what you're getting into.

Yes, you will get paid better than average people all over the world. Yes, you will get to learn new things constantly. And yes, you will be involved in important deals (well, hopefully).

You're also likely to meet some extraordinary people.

However, there are downsides, and they are generally all in your head.

A Wall Street veteran, who will remain anonymous, gave us a laundry list of ways working on the Street can actually ruin your life.

Wall Streeters have to deal with a distorted sense of money, questions about self-worth, arrested development and most importantly, the fact that they never ever have enough time. They can try and pay for it, but that only gets you so much.

The point is — you better love finance if you're getting into this business, because it's going to take over your life.

You'll be working 80-plus hours a week, so it's going to be hard to date.

"You will work insane hours in your first five years meaning stable relationships are a no go." 

Expect to always be on your work BlackBerry.

"And it will be a huge problem with any significant other." 

And you'll be so tired you can't even go out when you're still young and single.

"You won't have the energy to go out on Friday nights by 30 even if you're still single." 

First, my confession

Before this week, I had never watched Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life.

I know I should not admit this in a public place.

I know this will land me on the Un-American watch-list with the data-miners at the NSA faster than shouting my support for Al Qaeda in Times Square.

But there it is, the cold truth.  I had never watched It’s a Wonderful Life.

Well, nothing unites the themes of Christmas and suffering bankers as well as this movie, so I sat down to watch it with my eight year-old this week.

Little did I know I would soon be writing a blog post about a) Bank runs and b) The origins of Bankers Anonymous.

***SPOILER ALERT***

For other people who have never seen It’s a Wonderful Life (like me, living under a rock, clearly hating America’s freedoms) I will divulge plot points of this movie that’s played constantly on TV since 1946.  Ok, thank you.

***END SPOILER ALERT***

Ready for snark

I settled in to my couch with a bag full of Harry & David’s chocolate caramel popcorn (aka Yuppie Cracker Jack) in one hand, and a metaphorical pen full of snark on the other.  A syrupy-sweet movie about finance that everybody loves?  I knew I was going to hate it.

The first scene certainly opens up the film to snark.  The starry night, with a couple of disembodied voices, looks worse than an iMovie my eight year-old would make on a bad day.

With those kind of movie production values I’m going to slash through this movie faster than a pint of dulce de leche on a Friday night home alone.

But then I started to relate to the George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart) character

He doesn’t dream of being a banker.  He’s eager to travel, to have adventures, to break away from his hometown.

In fact, he’s really not a good banker at all.  He is what I call “improvident and cheerful,”[1] and runs the Bailey Building and Loan Association nearly into the ground a few times as a result.

Bailey’s also no saint.  When the ultra-capitalist Potter tempts him with a job offer to work for The Man, Bailey nearly goes for it.  Even knowing Potter’s unethical behavior, Bailey wants more money to provide for his family and to gratify his ego.

As a father and husband Bailey takes his blessings for granted.  He complains to his wife about his drafty old house, with a faulty wooden banister ornament.  He resents his young children for making demands on his time, or for practicing the piano loudly as he seeks peace and quiet at home.

When the children in Bailey’s household become especially annoying, I silently looked daggers at my eight year-old on the couch as if to say, “See how you are?”  She just smiled back sweetly and continued making compound interest calculations on her notepad.  (Good girl.)

I sympathized with George Bailey’s woes.  I also started to appreciate the movie’s solid presentation of a few key banking concepts.

Solid banking concepts – fractional reserve lending and bank runs

A) Fractional Reserve Lending

In the first bank run on the Bailey Building and Loan Association – on the eve of George Bailey’s honeymoon – we learn the basics of fractional reserve lending.

Banks never actually hold your money in a vault, as George Bailey explains, but rather they lend it out to others.

One household’s deposits, Bailey explains to his frightened customers, are lent as a mortgage for “Joe’s house, that’s right next yours, and the Kennedy house, and Mrs. Maklin’s house, and a hundred others.”  At any given moment, most deposits do not remain in the bank, or even in liquid securities or cash.  Instead, banks these days hold about 8 to 10% of their total funds in accessible funds, and try to loan the rest out at a profit.

Because all banks, just like the Bailey Building and Loan Association, operate on a fractional reserve lending policy, all banks also run the risk of a bank run.[2]

B) Bank Runs

When Potter calls in a large loan, and probably as a result of a Potter whispering campaign, the people of Bedford Falls lose confidence in Bailey’s bank.  When the depositors of the Bailey Building and Loan Association fear for their accounts, they demand their money in full, an impossibility for a fractional reserve lending bank that isn’t covered by depositor’s insurance.

We get a sense for the panic that sets in when people lose confidence in fractional reserve lending.  Banks that are not too big to fail simply cannot meet the demands of depositors if they all want cash returned at the same time.

Rock Bottom

George Bailey’s faults warmed me up, the accurate banking concepts earned my trust, and then Bailey hit rock bottom and I am completely captured…

On Christmas Eve morning, the unthinkable happens.  Bailey’s uncle misplaces $8,000 just as the bank examiner for the Bailey Building and Loan Association arrives.  The bank, always thin on capital, will go under without the $8,000.  Bailey’s nemesis Potter – who surreptitiously pocketed the money himself – alerts authorities to the missing money, leading to a warrant for Bailey’s arrest.

The stress breaks Bailey, pushing him to reject his family, drink too much, crash his car, and contemplate suicide.

Suddenly I realize that I am George Bailey.

My George Bailey moment(s)

My own ‘bank run’ and business failure played out over a longer period of time than one night, from the Fall of 2008 until the end of 2011.

Up until this point with Bankers Anonymous I haven’t wanted to share the story of my investment business, nor the origins of this blog, because nobody cares for a banker pity-party.  Many people suffered far more than me in the Great Recession, and I cannot compare my own losses to theirs.  But the pop-culture phenomenon of It’s a Wonderful Life – the entire plot hinges on a banker pity-party! – encourages me to at least share my story.

I started my investment company in 2004, and it began to grow in earnest in 2006.  When the jitters of the Summer 2008 turned into the wholesale panic of the Fall of 2008, a majority of my investors requested their money returned.

Two of my institutional investors, both “Fund of Funds” firms[3] requested their entire investment back, each request within a week of each other.  It turns out, both Fund of Funds clients had been wiped out of capital by redemption requests from their own investors.  Simultaneously, a few of my early individual investors also asked for capital returned in the Fall of 2008.

Although I didn’t operate a bank, my nascent fund was hit by a “bank run” just the same.  Too many folks needing their money back all at once meant that other investors demanded their money back, just to avoid being left holding the bag.  Just as depositors do with the Bailey Building and Loan Association.

My remaining investors, many of whom were friends or family, didn’t ask out of the  fund, either out of their belief in me or an unwillingness to abandon a sinking ship.  But by hanging on to these remaining investors I would end up leaving them with illiquid pieces of a dying fund.  By the end of 2008 I realized that to be fair I needed to return money to everyone in the fund at the same time.

The fund manager or banker, subject to a bank run from his investors, rarely seems like a sympathetic character in popular culture.  If I hadn’t lived it myself, I could easily think that the person unable to meet immediate demands for cash was irresponsible with money, or an idiot, or a crook.

Well, I’m none of these things.

And George Bailey’s predicament hit home for me.

Unlike George Bailey, I couldn’t stop the bank run.

Not suicide, but a kind of living death

I never spent that a George Bailey Christmas Eve getting drunk, crashing my car, and looking over a bridge contemplating the end.  I’m relatively lucky that I’m not really wired like that.

Instead, I spent three years, from 2008 to 2011, thinking about my own business failure.  First, I made the phone calls to say that you could not have all your money back right away.  Later, I made the phone calls and wrote the letters to say that you should expect losses now, and your money remains at risk of more losses over time.  I liquidated assets as best I could, knowing the range of outcomes was between mildly crappy and terrible, depending on how well I did.  Three years of phone calls and letters to people who had believed in me, keeping them updated on my attempt to turn a smelly dung heap into a useful compost pile.

Three years, walking around, feeling like an fool.

A few examples of my mindset

Just about every waking hour, and many hours asleep, I returned to the ‘bank run’ on my fund, and the subsequent losses for investors, and the loss of my entrepreneurial dream.

Having dinner with my wife.  How do I look my investors in the eye again?

Playing with my growing daughter or holding my newborn.  I can’t believe I had to shut down the fund.  How could I have fucked it up so badly?

Moving to a new city, finding a wonderful home and neighborhood with compatible friends.  Why is a smart guy like me so stupid?  Do they know what a fucking failure I am?  The important thing, of course, is to not let anyone in on my failure.

What do you do for a living?

Whenever any new acquaintances asked me during those three years about what I did for a living, I would mumble something vague about ‘winding down my fund, trying to figure out the next step.’  Something in my tone no doubt implied I didn’t seek any follow-up questions.  My mysteriousness probably gave the mistaken impression that I had plenty of wealth and didn’t really worry about ‘working for a living.’[4]

On the contrary, I obsessed about ‘working for a living.’  How come I failed to provide for my family?  What could I possibly do next?  I was too gun-shy to start another investment company.  Yet I found facile objections to all other professional directions as well.

Occasionally someone close to me would point out how blessed my life seemed.  I would smile and try to nod in agreement, but inside I certainly didn’t feel blessed.  What about my business failure?  Aren’t you forgetting about that?  Because I’m not.

An inscription to make me weep

At the end of the movie, George Bailey’s guardian angel Clarence gives a book to Bailey, with the inscription:

Remember no man is a failure who has friends.

George’s wife Mary saves him by appealing to the townspeople of Bedford Falls.  Remind George of your friendship, she urges, and they bail him out financially, as well as spiritually, expressing their love for him on Christmas Eve.

At that point in the movie, cynical me is blinking back tears and snuggling closer to my eight year-old.

After watching me dwell daily, even hourly, on my business failure for three years, my wife took a page from the Mary Bailey strategic playbook.

For my fortieth birthday she asked my closest friends and family to each write a letter expressing appreciation for my friendship.  The result, presented to me in 2012, stunned me. One after another[5] after another[6] after another[7] stunned me with love[8] and thoughtfulness.[9]  You mean, despite my failure, I am worthy of love?

It’s A Wonderful Life captures this kind of moment on film.

These letters’ effect on me

First, of course, waterworks.  Stomach-churning, ear-roaring, and eyesocket-wringing tears.

Second, I had the letters bound into a book.  What’s the one physical possession I would grab and take underground with me when the zombie apocalypse begins?  This book.

Third, I met with a web-designer friend that week about starting a blog called Bankers Anonymous.

Discovering the Bankers Anonymous motto

At the beginning of the first bank run, as he steels himself to save the Bailey Building and Loan Association for the first time, George Bailey glances at a picture of his father.  An inscription next to his father’s photograph reads:

All that you take with you is that which you’ve given away.

Well, I started Bankers Anonymous eighteen months ago to try to give away some financial knowledge I have gained.

Engaging in a dialogue about finance seems the best way I can think of for preventing the next great bank run, the next Big Crash.  If we better understand Wall Street and how it’s regulated, maybe we won’t repeat the same errors.

If we better understand our own personal financial situations, maybe our households won’t be so devastated by the next Great Recession.

Those ideas are what I’ve been trying to give away, and in the process I’ve been able to take with me so much.  Every time a reader comments on my posts or sends an encouraging email, I feel the truth of that inscription at the Bailey Building and Loan Association.

If you celebrate Christmas, and you find yourself begrudging the trip to the mall to acquire an ugly tie for your colleague or the must-have Skanx doll for your pre-teen daughter, all I can suggest is a return to that inscription from It’s a Wonderful Life.

“All that you take with you is that which you’ve given away.”

Peace to All.

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Tags: its a wonderful life, movie review, origin story

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While one may criticize now-ex CFTC commissioner Bart Chilton for years and years of sound and fury signifying nothing, countless promises of regulatory enforcement (all of which fell short of the target) and finally putting an end to precious metals manipulation only for the world to discover that while every other asset class is manipulated (involving such individuals as JPM's chief currency dealer), gold and silver are exempt, one must admit the former regulator does have a way wtih words (and of course haircuts). Sure enough, Chilton's most memorable parting gift will not be something he did, but rather what he said.

William Cohan memorializes his parting message: "As we long suspected, Wall Street continues to use every trick in its playbook to do whatever it can to eviscerate numerous post-financial-crisis rules. The arsenal includes high-powered lobbyists who outnumber lawmakers 10-to-1; $1,000-an-hour letter-writing lawyers who gain strength from negotiating over arcana; and the occasional hoodwinking of a president whose knowledge of the ways of finance are close to nil."

Chilton's take home message: “The lesson for me is: The financial sector is so powerful that they will roll things back over time,” Chilton says. “The Wall Street firms have tremendous influence, and they can impact policy to a greater degree than any one regulator or a small group of regulators can.”

Well, one sure can't say that those 30 years he spent in Washington of which nearly 7 years at the CFTC were lost on the Alexander Godunov lookalike: at least he figured out who runs the show. Of course, finding a way how to prevent the financial sector from being in charge, i.e., doing his job, would have been preferable, but close enough for government work.

What are Chilton's other laments? Why being underfunded of course. Because if the CFTC only had more money, all would have been fixed.

In fiscal 2013, for example, the CFTC requested funding of $308 million and got only $195 million ($10 million less than the previous year) despite many new responsibilities. “There are crooks who are getting away with crimes because we don’t have the resources to go after them,” Chilton says. The SEC has a similar discrepancy between its appropriation and what it needs to fulfill legal mandates.

With its regulators overwhelmed and underfunded, Wall Street firms then move to the relentless negotiation stage. “As you try to deal with the regulatory agency,” he says of Wall Street, “the first thing you do is you say, ‘Well, would you exempt us?’ And when that doesn’t work, you try to ameliorate your regulation.” If that strategy fails, the industry defaults to litigation.

Sounds like the generic justification anyone would make for failing at their job. But it could be just us.

Some more deep thoughts from Bart Chilton:

Chilton said he has noticed one additional tactic that Wall Street has been employing lately: stalling or thwarting nominees to regulatory agencies. The nomination of Timothy Massad, the U.S. Treasury Department official who managed the Troubled Asset Relief Program, to replace Gary Gensler as CFTC chairman came late in the year and a confirmation vote has now been delayed, probably to February 2014. That means further Dodd-Frank rule-writing and enforcement could be delayed, too, because only two of five commissioners will be seated and they would both have to agree to get anything done. “It’s a gift to Wall Street,” he said. “This is what they’ve been trying to do. They’ve been trying to stop Dodd-Frank.”

Chilton knows why Wall Street always seems to win. Financial-industry executives contribute more money “in every election, than any other sector, and they have made more profits in every single quarter since the fall of 2008 when many of them helped crash the economy,” he explains. “So while the rest of the nation is suffering still, and trying to get a leg up to get out of the ditch, the financial sector didn’t miss a beat.”

In case you didn’t catch Chilton’s meaning, here is the shorter version: Unless and until Wall Street’s disproportionate ability to bully Washington is curtailed, the rest of us will be held hostage to its agenda. For those interested in the fuller version, Chilton has been writing a book. Its working title: “Theft.”

Oh, we caught Chilton's meaning all right. What we are more interested in is how long after Theft is a monetary failure will the silver-haired regulator apply for a job at Goldman, JPMorgan or Citi. Because one thing we have learned observing Washington apparatchiks, is that in addition to sharing deep thoughts on occasions (if unmatched by actions), hypocrisy also happens to be a recurring theme.

For those who yearn for one last dose of Chilton's deep thoughts, here is his most recent speech, "The Boss", appropriately enough before the Society of American Business Editors and Writers, New York City. After all, the man has to get in with the publishing lobby next.

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Martin Scorsese's "The Wolf of Wall Street" is giving moviegoers around the world a stylized glimpse into the corruption and opulence that can plague the finance world.

Its loads of sex, drugs, and money have critics wondering if Wolf's attempt at a morality tale is just one loud cheer for gonzo greed.

It isn't the first time audiences have had this debate either. From "Trading Places" to "American Psycho," Hollywood loves examining what goes on behind the scenes on Wall Street.

But there are some "based-on-a-true-story" tales that have yet to become blockbusters.

So here are the 10 true Wall Street sagas — and the corresponding must-cast actors — that should be movies.

10. 'The Rise and Fall of Jon Corzine.' Corzine went from top dog at Goldman Sachs to a senator and governor to seeing his firm MF Global collapse in spectacular fashion.

Starring Charles Dance (AKA Tywin Lannister)

9. 'The Collapse of Bear Stearns.' The top brass at Bear were known for their wild boys club, but it all came crashing down when JP Morgan almost bought the bank for $2 a share as the market crashed.