Market-driven failure

I’m prejudiced. Yes, I am. I admit it. And not ashamed. I bear my prejudice on my sleeve. My prejudice is like-a Beckhamesque tattoo, complex, a list of interwoven resonant words with the odd fig leaf, and a subtly curved lethally sharp-edged scimitar which only becomes visible after careful viewing, but then, once found, dominates … More Market-driven failure