And on the few occasions that a broadcast danger did arise, Belfort was likely to swiftly swat it away. There were little to no public forums on which victims could alert others and news didn't travel as fast. So now question remains, how did he do it? How could one firm be solely dedicated to ripping off every investor that it called up and actually prosper for a multitude of years?įor one, the lack of connectivity throughout the world probably helped Stratton's cause. The nature of the books and movie based on Belfort's career of scum-bagging is beyond outrageous but, by all accounts taken, very much true. "Some actually laughed when a guy would send in $50,000," says this testimonial from 1998. In layman's terms, using what's called a classic "pump and dump" scheme, Belfort screwed his own customers to the tune of $200 million with no remorse. It makes computers hypocrites.Even if you haven't seen the movie or read the book, both of which are based on his life, by now you might already be familiar with the story of Jordan Belfort, on whom " The Wolf of Wall Street" is based.Īt 27, the Bronx, New York native founded a brokerage firm called Stratton Oakmont in 1989 with partner Danny Porush. Stratton Oakmont made its name by selling hyped shares of businesses that the firm personally invested in, only to sell the firm's own shares once the prices were inflated by their own salesmanship, leaving their clients with the losses as soon as the prices dropped back down to earth. (And note: We are aware the comments section, run by an outside vendor, does not allow profanity to be used. We broke down the data into four graphical treatments - a list of every curse word and how many times it was said, a chart showing just the F-words, a chart showing all of the curse words listed in relation to each other, and then a breakout of which characters are the most profane.
Rogers! Fuck you, bow tie! A real fucking idiot!”) (After Jonah Hill’s Donnie swallows a junior trader’s goldfish, for example, you hear unspecified co-workers yell, “Get the fuck out of here! Fuck off, Mr. Good job, Slate! But that doesn’t mean that this new area of exploration can’t keep moving forward: I can be the Edison to Slate’s Ben Franklin in advancing the study of counting depraved stockbrokers yelling “fuck.” While they kept their research to the F-word family (and, for the record, while both of us disagreed with Wikipedia, we came up with different numbers: Slate’s 544 to my 569), I also noted every shit, dick, cock, and so on - delivered by all characters, be they main, supporting, or even lost in a crowd. Then, my research done and sent to our art department to graph, those fucking fucks over at Slate had to publish a very similar piece last evening.
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