In Gone with the Wind, Rhett Butler wryly notes that there is "just as much money to be made out of the wreckage of a civilization as from the upbuilding of one." Having observed the near-Roman excesses of New York's money men over the past couple of years, I might go even further and argue that the end of a civilization tends to be even more outrageously profligate than its beginning. After all, it's hard to imagine stern, conservative men like J.P. Morgan and Andrew Mellon giving in to the incredible excesses of the latest round of would-be magnates.

While tales like Stephen Schwarzman's million dollar birthday and Dick Fuld's five homes tend to capture the public's attention, these outrageous expenditures are only the tip of the iceberg. From $175 hamburgers at the Wall Street Burger Shoppe to John Thain's $1.22 million office redecoration, it has become increasingly clear that New York's financial workers have spent the last few years living in a completely alien world. What's more, they are either unable or unwilling to adapt to the changing realities of America's economy.

I'm not sure when it happened, but I think that I've slipped into a Charles Dickens novel.

I got my first clue that something was up back in September, when Lehman Brothers filed for bankruptcy. Amid scandals over bailouts and backroom deals, congressional testimony and AIG retreats, one figure quickly emerged from the mass of bloated plutocrats and greedy execs clamoring for bonuses. Everything about Dick Fuld, from his cartoonishly aggressive management style, to his whining over Congress' refusal to bail out Lehman, to his striking resemblance to Rocky and Bullwinkle's Fearless Leader, made him the perfect poster boy for corporate greed. As more details leaked out, including the story about Fuld being pummeled by one of his employees, much was made of his name. In the public mind and this writer's heart, Richard Fuld was permanently transformed into a complete Dick. All in all, I was hardly surprised to see Lehman fold.

Another clue came when the story leaked out that Merrill Lynch CEO John Thain tried to collect a $10 million bonus. The fact that this bonus was, supposedly, based on Thain's performance in a year when Merrill lost billions of dollars made Thain's chutzpah almost legendary. My wife, who has had dealings with Thain in the past, noted that this aristocratic sense of entitlement permeated every single one of their interactions. I, on the other hand, couldn't help but remember the words of the witches in Macbeth, who hail the Scotsman as Thane of Cawdor, Thane of Glamis, and King hereafter. There seemed to be something ironic about an ambitious, clawing Thain who so clearly felt himself deserving of the spoils of war.

There have since been others. For example, when I first heard of Bernie Madoff, I thought nothing of his last name. However, when I learned that the proper pronunciation isn't "MAD-off" but rather "MADE-off," I couldn't help but laugh. For somebody who "made off" with billions of dollars, Bernie has a name that would put Dickens to shame. Following him, of course, there's been Joseph Forte, the Ponzi schemer who put on a "strong" front, but couldn't hide the fact that making money wasn't his forte. Frankly, punning off these guys is so easy that it's almost embarrassing.

As the sordid tale of Bernard Madoff continues to unspool, it has become increasingly clear that somebody -- in fact, a lot of somebodies -- were asleep at the switch. Beyond the standard warning signs, like Madoff's incredible secrecy, his surprisingly consistent rate of return, and the clubby nature of his selling staff, there were far more obvious portents. For example, Madoff's chief compliance officer was his brother Peter, and one of the compliance attorneys was his niece. For that matter, the fact that Harry Markopolos, a Boston accountant, has been urging the SEC to investigate Madoff for the last nine years should have been a hint. The same, of course, goes for the 2006 SEC investigation that found violations, but didn't feel obliged to take any substantive action.

As the SEC attempts to assign blame in finest Three Stooges form, it's worth noting that this is hardly the first time that a lack of serious governmental regulation has reared its ugly head this year. At the moment, mobs are currently clamoring for Dick Fuld's head, with a healthy side order of Hank Greenberg, John Thain, John Mack, Lloyd Blankfein, Jimmy Cain, and pretty much everyone who works in New York's financial district. The general perspective seems to be that these men engaged in business practices that ran the gamut from risky to actionable and now should be forced to pay for the economy that they have ruined.

This post is part of AOL Money & Finance's Best & Worst in Money 2008 feature.

In the decades to come, business school students will be faced with a plethora of examples from 2008 in studying how not to do something.

Picking one business decision as the worst is sort of like choosing a favorite child. Each was wretchedly awful in their own unique way. They each deserve their own wing in the hall of shame, but there only can be one winner. In my mind, the company that consistently shot itself in the foot with a heretofore unknown precision was American International Group Inc. (NYSE: AIG).

Of course, AIG is now owned by the U.S. government, largely thanks to two bailouts. The government ripped up the first $85 billion deal after determining that the New York-based company needed an even bigger life preserver of $150 billion. Even then, it managed to post a $24.5 billion loss.

What set the standard for corporate hubris, though, were the junkets. There was a fun-in-the-sun getaway to a resort in California, only days after the $85 billion bailout went through. Recently, it was disclosed that another junket was held in Arizona. Though the amount of money involved in the gatherings was piddly, the principle at stake was not. AIG was telling people -- especially members of Congress who approved the bailout -- that nothing had changed when, of course, everything had.

The credit crisis is turned some of the super-rich into the super-poor.

When AIG (NYSE: AIG) was trading for $70 the share former CEO Hank Greenberg and his affiliates had about $20 billion in the stock. Now that number is probably less than $1 billion. AIG now trades around $3.

According to The Wall Street Journal, "Mr. Greenberg said in a Securities and Exchange Commission filing earlier Thursday that he intended to engage in open-market sales of AIG shares for liquidity and other purposes."

Liquidity indeed. The lifestyles of many billionaires includes hundreds of millions of dollars in donations to charities, multiple homes, art collections, and even a private jet. Yesterday former Lehman CEO Dick Fuld began the process of auctioning off his art collection. Being very rich is not what it used to be.

The news about Greenberg and Fuld points to a new wrinkle in the economic crisis. The trouble may not just bring down some of the nation's leading financial companies. It may make some of the country's most wealthy people bankrupt.

Greenberg is in his early 80s. That makes starting all over again pretty tough.

Douglas A. McIntyre is an editor at 24/7 Wall St.

Lehman Brothers CEO Dick Fuld has been in seclusion since the company's bankruptcy filing last week, but get out your popcorn and soda: he's set to be in Washington this week to testify before the House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform. Fortune's Patricia Sellers reports that "Fuld is supposed to explain what led to Lehman's collapse and explore the impact on financial markets and the U.S. economy."

For those of you who are playing along at home, there are essentially two possibilities for what Mr. Fuld will offer as an explanation:

• "I screwed up. We borrowed too much money to make bad investments that we didn't understand, and when the crap start to hit the fan, I was dumb enough to buy back stock instead of raising cash. Can you believe that? I take full responsibility for this mess and, no, I'm not giving back my money."
• "My company was destroyed by mean nasty short-sellers who spread mean nasty rumors about the company, and then drove down the stock through naked short-selling. If the SEC would have reined in market speculators and manipulators, we would still be alive and I'd still have that cushy leather desk chair."

I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest that Fuld's explanation will be mainly the latter. But take it with a grain of salt: when former Enron CEO Jeff Skilling was hauled before Congress to explain that company's collapse, he said that "It is my belief that Enron's failure was due to a classic run on the bank, a liquidity crisis spurred by a lack of confidence in the company."

But the reality is that Enron and Lehman filed for bankruptcy protection because they didn't have enough assets to cover their liabilities. Period. And it's wrong to blame that on the few short-sellers who were prescient enough to see through optimistic and misleading "forward-looking statements."

Lehman Brothers Holdings Inc. (NYSE: LEH) Chief Executive Richard Fuld is running out of rabbits to pull out of his hat.

The troubled Wall Street bank, which reportedly is set to take a $4 billion write down in the third quarter, is desperate to raise capital. The Wall Street Journal says it's shopping around its investment management business, which includes Neuberger Berman. During the second quarter, the business reported net revenue of $800 million, down from $1 billion a year earlier. Its assets under management were $277 billion. Though these results were hardly spectacular, they stood in contrast to the Capital Markets business, which reported negative revenue of $2.4 billion.

Selling the asset management business would bring in between $8 billion and $10 billion, according to analysts cited by the Journal. Lehman's market capitalization now stands at about $10.4 billion thanks to the 77% decline in the stock price this year.

"Any change in the unit's ownership structure would be bittersweet for Lehman," according to the Journal. "The division has been a strong performer ever since Lehman bought it in 2003, holding up well despite the mortgage crisis. While a sale would give Lehman a cash infusion, the investment bank would lose a steady source of revenue."

Lehman acquired Neuberger for $2.6 billion in 2003, and some unhappy Neuberger executives are eager to dump their shares, the paper said.

Not all investors, however, believe that all hope is lost. Lehman's shares rose Friday on a report that billionaire George Soros boosted his stake in the company.

If the sale goes through, there is no way that Lehman will be able to remain independent.

MAJOR PAPERS:

• The market for private mortgage insurance has narrowed and is tougher to obtain, further pressuring home buyers and affecting the market, the Wall Street Journal reported. "Clearly, the pendulum had swung a little too far in terms of flexibility in underwriting," said Len Sweeney, the chief risk officer at AIG United Guaranty, a part of American International Group Inc (NYSE: AIG).
• In a agreement with Viacom Inc (NYSE: VIA), Google Inc (NASDAQ: GOOG) said it will remove visitor data from YouTube before it fulfills a judge's order to send data to Viacom, as a part of a larger copyright lawsuit, the Wall Street Journal reported.

OTHER PAPERS:

• As part of its effort to emerge from bankruptcy protection, the Detroit News reported that Delphi Corp (OTC: DPHIQ) announced plans to sell its brake business. Delphi has retained W.Y. Campbell and Co to help sell the unit, which has around 1,000 employees worldwide.
• The New York Post learned that Dick Fuld, the CEO of Lehman Brothers Holdings Inc (NYSE: LEH), is seriously considering ways to take the company private. The Post said that talks centering on the privatization of Lehman have "gotten very serious consideration," according to sources, although details on how a maneuver may work remain unclear.

TheStreet.com's Jim Cramer says denying liquidity concerns isn't enough. Bear needs mimic Lehman's Fuld and step in as a buyer to stem the talk.

Guess it was only a matter of time before we started hearing about the liquidity problems.

Typical that they start with Bear (NYSE: BSC) (Cramer's Take), it being like the homebuilder who tipped it all off, the first broker that was crushed by a mortgage bet.

Of course the denials come quickly. It's a terrible thing to even have to deny. So much better to keep your mouth shut. But when your stock is being raided down precipitously and your book value of $84 can't be real because what the heck is your stock doing in the $70s, then there's no protection either.

In 1998 it happened to Lehman (NYSE: LEH) (Cramer's Take), and Lehman didn't bottom until Dick Fuld called everyone and his brother not with denials but with bids, as in $31 bid for 1 million Lehman.