Back when I was a boy, radio dramas involving American spies going into Asia sometimes introduced something called the Chinese water torture. The good guy, or the good guy’s partner, was captured by the wily orientals. They would try to get him to talk. He wouldn’t. So, as a last resort, they would tie him down on a bench and place over his forehead a bucket with a tiny hole in the bottom. Then they would fill the bucket with water. Drip, drip, drip: the drops of water would eventually drive him mad. There would be no marks, no signs … Continue reading The Wall Street Water Torture