Custom Search

Nero Tulip became obsessed with trading after witnessing a strange scene one spring day as he was visiting the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. A red convertible Porsche, driven at several times the city speed limit, abruptly stopped in front of the entrance, its tires emitting the sound of slaughtered pigs. A visibly demented athletic man in his thirties, his face flushed red, emerged and ran up the steps as if he were chased by a tiger. He left the car double-parked, its engine running, provoking a angry fanfare of horns. After a long minute, a bored young man clad in a yellow jacket (yellow was the color reserved for clerks) came down the steps, visibly untroubled by the traffic commotion. He drove the car into the underground parking garage—perfunctorily as if it were his daily chore.
That day Nero Tulip was hit with what the French call a coup de foudre, a sudden intense (and obsessive) infatuation that strikes like lightning. "This is for me!", he screamed enthusiastically --he could not help comparing the life of a trader to the alternatives. Academia conjured up the image of a silent university office with rude secretaries; business inspired him a quiet office staffed with slow thinkers and semi-slow thinkers who express themselves in full sentences. ...

ORDER BOOK