I’m writing this in a Parisian cafe in the year 2050. I’m doing a reverse Hemingway, trying to become a better writer as I get into my 70s while I do part-time consulting in what has, to my surprise, become the center of the western financial world. Unfortunately, my writing is also doing a reverse Hemingway, in terms of quality, not that it was ever close to begin with. I always loved sitting on these porches sipping coffee for hours paying in Dollars that made everything in Europe feel...
