situation, I have none of that. I have no institutional bona fides which makes me in some sense one of the few independent sources of information and actual honest brokers. That’s the usefulness of disgrace.” And then there is too, that he is right. Since I began working on this piece in September, Epstein predictions about the price of oil, yen, ruble, and euro have all born out. (If I had invested $100,000 the way Epstein said I should in early September, by the end of January I would have made $2.3 million. Alas, I did not.) And something else, which perhaps also surely accounts for Epstein’s continuing relationships with the rich and powerful: Most everyone who is now of a certain age and certain ambition and certain status grew up in, and found they were temperamentally suited to, the new age of wealth that started in the late 1970s. A meritocracy on steroids, or, as Vanity Fair would baldly and ingratiatingly dub it, the new establishment, an increasingly parallel world, a self-invented one, at further and further remove from the ordinary one. In some sense, Epstein is just one version, picaresque, as well as louche, of this shared story. He often tells, with some obvious marvel, his middle class to riches tale. He was born in 1953 in Coney Island. His father worked for the city’s Parks Department. His mother was a housewife. He has a younger brother, Mark. Epstein was distinguished by little other than his math talents. The captain of the math team at Lafayette High school in Bensonhurst, he goes on to Cooper Union where the tuition is free. He drops out after two years and begins taking classes at the NYU’s Courant Institute of Mathematics. Then, without a college degree, hence by a slight of hand, gets a job teaching math and physics at Dalton in 1974. (A few years ago, during a chance encounter with a former Dalton math department chairman, Margo Gumport, I asked her about Epstein. She said he was the most brilliant math teacher at Dalton in her 50-ye