“Follow the money,” Deep Throat said at two a.m. in the damp shadows of a parking garage in Rosslyn, VA, in the shameful and pernicious year of ’72. Words of wisdom for the entire nation. Follow the money through the tangled nexus of corporations and nefarious cartels, through offshore bank accounts in the Caymans and Dutch Antilles. Follow the money over the transom and under the counter, paid to thieves and merchants of war. Untangle the links of the intricate maze that reveals greed’s coronation. Follow the money in the pockets of those who lie for the state and dismiss the disasters invoked. Follow the money past the derelicts and disenfranchised, past the stricken faces in any crowd. Sound advice for young and old alike. Follow the money in the fading years of the brief grand American experiment.