I just randomly came across this sad obituary in the Times. It immediately reminded me about reading this article about him and his friends several years ago--and thinking "Who are these people? I must pass them on the street sometimes. How do they manage to live like this without consequences?" But I guess I was naive. "The things he did to cope with the strain of his own life were often misunderstood as partying.” Okay.
The feeling I had reading the 2007 NYMag article was different but not unrelated to the one I get when I read things like this, or that I once got listening to a hedge fund managing director rhapsodize about the beauty and benevolence of the financial markets while an eight-foot-tall pointillist image of his firm's owner stared down at him from his office wall. A combination of envy and incredulity. It's exhilarating to live in determined, richly compensated obliviousness, whether that compensation is in traditional wealth, attention, or hedonistic rewards.
FWIW here's the complete text of Matt Taibbi's amazing Rolling Stone article from last week.