Walking away from MSNBC and his Tribeca loft.

Is it really surprising that former MSNBC host Dylan Ratigan is fleeing his Tribeca loft? The political pundit and anti-Wall Street crusader was definitely a little too close for comfort to those Greedy Bastards living at 55 North Moore Street, so we're not shocked to see that he's sold it for $1.38 million.

Mr. Ratigan announced in June that he was leaving his eponymous show, a move telegraphed by what appeared to be his growing frustrations with the limitations of talking things out on cable news. Now, he's appears making an even bigger move. Either Mr. Ratigan is fleeing Manhattan, cesspool of corporate thieves that it is, or he's shopping for something a little more in line with a man of his prominence. After all, Tribeca and loft sounds impressive, but his one-bedroom was scarcely more than 1,000 square feet.

Did Ratigan finally see the light? These windows might be South facing, but they're hopelessly second floor.

Perhaps Mr. Ratigan was just depressed walking by the Zuccotti Park and the dregs of the once-promising movement that lived there? He bought the loft for $999,999 back in 2004. With 14-foot high beamed ceilings, South-facing windows and limestone floors, we're sure it will make a lovely home for buyer Jason Tauber, even if he did pay more than the $1.32 million ask.

The spread, listed with Brown Harris Stevens broker Sophie Ravet, is right near by the Tribeca waterfront. It would seem an ideal place for healthy walks, something Mr. Ratigan is appear to be in sore need of—he told Rachel Maddow that his frustrations with the corporate welfare were such that he'd gained weight and started smoking.

And the co-op, besides the fact that is increasingly playing home to the rich and entitled—media scion Samuel I. Newhouse IV bought a loft there in 2009—has quite liberal admittance policies that allow pied-a-terres, pets and parents who want to buy for their children.

True, we still don't know what Mr. Ratigan will do next, but we can be sure that he won't be doing it from apartment 2F.

kvelsey@observer.com

Illustration by Drew Friedman.

"THIS IS NOT SOME OPINION! This is a mathematical fact!"

In a now-infamous Aug. 9, 2011, taping, a cable news host has just boiled over at his assembled panel of guests. He's yelling, at full volume. "I've been coming on TV for three years doing this," he bellows, exasperated. "And the fact of the matter is that there's a refusal on both the Democratic and the Republican side of the aisle to acknowledge the mathematical problem, which is that the United States of America is being extracted!" He has now erupted. "It's being extracted through banking! It's being extracted through trade! And it's being extracted through taxation! And there's not a single politician that has stepped forward to deal with this!"

Five months and a couple hundred thousand views later, answering The Observer's call from a hotel room in San Juan, Puerto Rico, the 39-year-old host of MSNBC's The Dylan Ratigan Show sounded nothing like the man whose unhinged, frothing-at-the-mouth rants on unmitigated corporate greed went viral last summer. Nor did he sound like the man who frustrated Ed Schultz, of all people, to the point where he ended the segment in disgust, or the man who has been known to cut off guests completely. It didn't even sound like the guy whose favorite New Yorker was Teddy Roosevelt, and whose first book, hitting bookstores in barely a week, bears the unsubtle title Greedy Bastards!

Dylan Ratigan answered the phone sounding like a calm, collected New York City bachelor enjoying a tropical vacation. One couldn't help wondering if maybe the apoplectic, vein-popping madman wasn't perhaps a bit of a TV creation?

Not quite. Mr. Ratigan's rants, he assured us, were "100 percent spontaneous."

Even the notorious "extraction" rant, the episode the show's website refers to as his Network moment, was pure, unvarnished Ratigan, he insisted. "It's terrible and embarrassing behavior," he said. "It's unprofessional to behave that way in public, for God's sake."

Not that he regrets the outburst. "If I had just gone on and said those things, then no one would have watched it," he explained. "So I walk away and I'm like, 'At least everyone is going to hear about the bank extraction.' Not because they want to, because they want to hear Ratigan lose his shit. It's kind of funny," he laughed. "If I could do it on a premeditated basis, then I'd do it more often. I'd be more famous."

Instead, the host, whose live show airs weekdays at 4 p.m., said he would rather promote a more thoughtful sort of discourse. More calm, nuanced, and positive—conversation that is, in his own words, "fuelled by compassion."

MR. RATIGAN, who is 39, grew up in Saranac Lake, N.Y., the only child of a single mother, a social worker, whose Hungarian, Jewish father (a "hero" to his grandson) came through Ellis Island without knowing any English, but somehow built a flourishing carpet business. Mr. Ratigan's grandfather died in a work-related accident, climbing spools of carpet in his Astoria warehouse. "Having watched how hard that man worked," he said with a sigh, "you always kind of feel like … the nature of the work that I'm doing? It's really not that hard."

After graduating from Union College upstate with a bachelor's in political economics, he worked for a time as an auditor for parking garages around the city, winding up living in a townhouse owned by his boss. His neighbors happened to include Susan Brown, the ex-wife of Michael Bloomberg—"We used to sit in the garden and smoke cigarettes together"—and the couple's two daughters, Emma and Georgina, the three of whom he became friendly with. After leaving New York briefly to travel the country by train for a year (he was in his 20s, he explained: "It sounded like fun, so I did it"), he returned to the city and paid Ms. Brown a visit. She asked what he planned to do with his life; Mr. Ratigan had no idea. So Ms. Brown harangued her ex-husband about hiring the young man, and finally Mr. Bloomberg relented.

The timing was good. As Mr. Ratigan tells it, "The company was in the middle of an explosion of growth, and it went from 8,000 to 250,000 terminals while I was there."

At Bloomberg, Mr. Ratigan went from reporting on mergers and acquisitions to editing. He eventually landed on-camera, winning a Gerald Loeb award for his reporting on the Enron scandal. Despite his sometimes overbearing demeanor (most notably, a loud voice that sometimes caused Mr. Bloomberg scream at him lovingly across the newsroom to "Shut up, Ratigan"), he was ultimately elevated to global managing editor for corporate finance, a position created for him. He hated the work, though, particularly the endless rounds of meetings. He left the company for a brief consulting job with Boeing, and was eventually lured to CNBC, where he co-created and hosted the daily stock market analysis show Fast Money.

Despite viewing Mr. Bloomberg as a mentor, Mr. Ratigan took issue with the mayor's handling of the Occupy Wall Street protests, which Mr. Ratigan supported and visited on several occasions with an MSNBC camera crew. Though Mr. Ratigan identifies himself as a conservative, and stands more than a few notches to the right of some of his MSNBC colleagues, he seems to have an instinctive sympathy for the underdog. "I've spent a lot of my career dealing with the wealthiest, most powerful 1 percent as a reporter by covering them and interacting with them," he pointed out, "and as a social worker my mother has spent the bulk of her career dealing with some of the most impoverished 1 percent."

The Bloomberg administration's approach to the protests, Mr. Ratigan said, "was disappointing for me." He pointed out the unique opportunity the mayor has to address issues like wealth inequality. "Mike is in a position to do that, and I think to do that in a way a few people could," he said, quickly adding a note of optimism: "Listen, I'm still hopeful that he may do that, although there is certainly not any indication."

While Mr. Ratigan's career as a talking head seems to be speeding along a well-traveled route—hopping from one network to another amid a spasm of leaked news reports; moving from straight reporting to loudly articulated opinion; unleashing a made-for-YouTube tirade; publishing a book—he insists it's all been a reaction to circumstances. Primarily, he cites the financial meltdown, and what he sees as the financial press's failure to prevent it, see it coming, or at minimum explain it to viewers.

"It's negligent," Mr. Ratigan said, "to be in the national media covering a national unemployment crisis, covering a national housing crisis, covering a national education crisis, covering a national poverty crisis," and not be communicating the basic underlying principles to your audience.

For instance, the idea that credit derivatives are not backed by actual assets, he said, "is utterly insulting beyond all comprehension. It's one of those things where the more you learn about it, the more horrifying it becomes."

And the Obama administration hasn't helped matters, he said. "We've seen no change. We've seen the Obama administration and [Treasury Secretary Timothy] Geithner actually codify and advance" the broken system. "Instead of blaming George Bush or Bill Clinton or Barack Obama, you realize that they're all doing it!"

As for financial journalism's role in the economic meltdown, he said, "It's grossly disappointing." He laughed. "What do you want me to tell you? It's embarrassing."

Mr. Ratigan left CNBC in April 2009. "I'm happy to not be a journalist," he said, noting that the constraints of the profession had made it impossible to see the big picture. "My old style was, ‘Well, this is a sport [in which] we try and figure out what's the best idea to put money into,'" he said. In his new role, he can step back and impart a larger point, namely: "This is a fundamentally corrupt global system that people don't understand."

Righteous though he can sound, Mr. Ratigan is not altogether unimpeachable. In December 2010, MSNBC announced that steel company Nucor would be sponsoring The Dylan Ratigan Show's "Steel on Wheels" tour of the country. At the time, Mr. Ratigan told TVNewser's Gail Shister: "I won't talk about Nucor on the air, absolutely not," in light of the potential conflicts. But in a February 2011 episode, he toured a Nucor factory in Seattle.

When The Observer asked him about the discrepancy, Mr. Ratigan exhaled loudly. "That's an absolutely fair criticism," he said finally. "I recognize that was a mistake," he added, explaining that he should never have promised not to cover Nucor in the first place.

That might not satisfy a professor of journalistic ethics, but it's more of a mea culpa than one might expect. "Your ego is a huge liability to your judgment, and when you get into these jobs, your ego only gets bigger," Mr. Ratigan said. "How can I go on TV and blather about integrity and all this nonsense and then not exhibit it? I'd be a real asshole."

It's another reason he doesn't necessarily consider himself a journalist. "I'm an advocate who hosts a show, let's be honest," he said. The advocacy Mr. Ratigan is referring to is his Get Money Out! movement, which aims to introduce a new Constitutional amendment banning corporate campaign contributions. Mr. Ratigan said the group is the largest nonprofit in the world pushing for corporate political finance reform, "by dollars, by people, by staff, and by signatures." While he said he has ruled out running for office (at least until his amendment passes), he intends to keep pushing the issue.

"I will do as much as possible to address what I see as the structural misaligned interests in America," he declared. "I'm hoping that we'll be able to enlist tens of millions of people." And to those who question the propriety of such an effort by a newsman, he said, "To the extent to which I am able to acquire and amass and advocate resources around an agenda that is transparent, and people know what I'm doing, it's what I'm going to do. I'll start a circus. Are you kidding me? We have to do this. Who cares if Dylan Ratigan is a journalist?"

GREEDY BASTARDS!, Mr. Ratigan said, was conceived as a response to the economic decline of the last three years. It was written with a team of five researchers, a ghostwriter, and a close college friend—a PhD in stem-cell biology—to help "logic-proof" the 245-page text.

That title notwithstanding, the book doesn't actually go after the bastards themselves, but instead takes aim at a cultural tendency, what the author calls "greedy bastardism," which can be adopted or discarded at will.

The antidote to greedy bastardism, Mr. Ratigan writes, is a systemic set of values he dubs V.I.C.I. (or vici, Latin for ‘I Overcame'), which translates into Visibility, Integrity, Choice and Interests.

That formula might not be quite vehement enough for some of Mr. Ratigan's fans, who presumably expect a bit more red meat with their reading. "I'm sure they'll be taken aback," he admitted. "They might be a little confused. But I'll be able to reveal my own process of self-discovery, because my reaction to all of this has been fury and frustration, and what I've learned is that it's not constructive."

Indeed, the rage-aholic outbursts that have fueled Mr. Ratigan's rise—leading The Daily Beast to dub him "The Angriest Man in Cable"—seem to be abating, and not a moment too soon. "Over the past year," he said, "I've gained 25 pounds. I've started smoking again. It has made me miserable."

Mr. Ratigan, who lives in Tribeca, is indulging a softer side. He has been known to get on stage with one of his favorite bands, Fountains of Wayne, and play the gourd at their concerts. He has taken up paddleboarding. "It forces you into the present tense, you know?" he said. And he recently sought out Deepak Chopra personally to get the guru's advice on chilling out.

"I'd like to lose some weight and I'd like to be happy," said the broadcaster, who has been engaged twice but is currently single. "I still want to do this job, you know, and I have to find a way to do that, and the only way to do it is to have some compassion."

He stops, and then adds: "Including compassion, by the way, for the bankers. And the politicians."

How will that play on cable, we ask him, where everyone knows anger is what sells?

"We're going to find out if compassion sells."

fkamer@observer.com | @weareyourfek

Mr. Ratigan was down at Zuccotti Park most of last weekend, interviewing participants and chatting them up about his new crusade on behalf of campaign finance reform. Late last month, Mr. Ratigan established a foundation called Get Money Out with the goal of amending the Constitution to forbid private campaign contributions. Since September 27, he’s racked up more than 170,000 signatures.

“Some love it, some hate it,” he told Off the Record of the protesters.

But he’s not asking them to organize around his cause, or any other one, for that matter.

“The desire to create a list of demands is a function of those who are threatened, trying to put them in a box,” Mr. Ratigan explained.

By contrast, he’s been asking demonstrators about the various personal reasons that inspired their involvement. He’s compiled their answers for an entry on his Huffington Post blog and submitted it to the Occupied Wall Street Journal, though he is unsure whether or not they will publish it.

Just because the movement’s scattershot doesn’t mean there’s no solidarity, he noted.

“We’re asking, ‘Why am I here?’ and ‘What am I doing?’” he said, of the protesters. “That energy seeks to harmonize with itself,” he went on, building up some momentum. “It’s a million points of light, that’s a digital matrix of identity. It’s harder to digest the subject-object relationship. Simply one group of Us, this one gigantic group of Us.”

Mr. Ratigan’s recommends activists focus on principles and goals—what he calls an “open source” movement—rather than the existing mechanisms of change and power.

“We want to release our own egos from ideas and affiliations,” he said, “but we should probably exhibit a bit more compassion for the legacy systems—Mr. Business, Mr. Government, Mr. Media—the people who are threatened because they’re afraid they’re going to lose all that money,” he explained.

Like, say, cable news anchors?

“Yes!” he said. “That’s why I’m doing everything I can to define my voice, and get out of the business of going on television and reading information to people, which was the job I came into ten years ago.”

MSNBC has been slowly drifting out of that business, he elaborated, and looking instead for journalists who are also advocates. Glenn Beck, Keith Olbermann, and Rachel Maddow are advocates, he pointed out.

He was eager to note that the two-party system served us well through the 19th century.

“We need to honor and thank those systems,” he said...before we supplant them with the open-source movement.

But this is a revolution! Shouldn’t we burning something?

“To burn yourself in the town square is an indulgence of your own ego,” Mr. Ratigan told us. “Harness the anger to the threshold to burn yourself, organize it into a principled force of change. For me that’s what this amendment is, a positive channel for our frustration. And it’s a positive tool to begin a positive conversation.”

Toure holds court in Brooklyn.

What’s in a name? A lot, if it happens to be Touré: not only did the young Rolling Stone writer and MSNBC contributor deliver a passionate takedown of 9/11 coverage on Dylan Ratigan last week, but in the days that followed, he’s also managed to a) Start a Twitterversy about what your tipping percent says about you as a person, b) release a book about what it means to be black in today’s culture,  c) and announce that he’ll be co-authoring Nas’ memoir. Last night in Brooklyn’s Greenlight bookstore, Touré celebrated the release of his latest book Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness. Hosted by Terry McMillian, the party got hot amidst the crushing fans all trying to squeeze their way into the Forte Greene venue.

MSNBC anchor and occasional Today host Tamron Hall could be found back in the kid’s fiction section, wearing a sexy black leather dress that definitely put her ahead of Kathie Lee or Ann Curry in terms of morning show style. Considering all the bodies pressed into the room, wasn’t she sweating under the thick material?

"I’m from Texas…anything under 80 degrees and I’m cold," laughed Ms. Hall.

A more recent MSNBC hire and former congressional candidate Krystal Ball was also on hand, discussing her recent move from Virginia to Harlem. Although she wasn’t technically sure it was Harlem (maybe just the Upper Upper West side?), but "Touré told me to say it’s Harlem to help with my street cred."

Not that she needs any help in that arena. "I grew up having to deal with this name,"  sighed Ms. Ball, whose infamous Christmas photos involving her husband as Rudolph with an X-rated nose effectively squashed her campaign in October 2010 while keeping her in the top Google search terms for the rest of the year.

Not wanting to reopen that can of worms, we asked if this was because she grew up having people asking for tarot card readings.

"No, because it sounds like it belongs on a stripper," said Ms. Ball.

At least she’ll never deal with the pain of trying to find a stage name, unlike the artist currently known as Mos Def, who announced last week that he would be changing his own in 2012. Judging from the excited whispers of the crowd when he showed up late to the party, it may take awhile for the new moniker to stick: Not one person mentioned that someone calling himself Yassir Yasiin had suddenly entered a Brooklyn bookstore. Zadie Smith and Miss Info -- both of big-name fame -- were in attendance, along with artists Julie Mehretu and Sanford Biggers.

Afterwards a small faction moved to the backyard of Stonehome Wine Bar on Lafayette Street, where Prozac Nation and Bitch author Elizabeth Wurtzel was overheard talking about her boyfriend, who wasn’t there yet but was coming, oh wait, here he is. Former Rolling Stone writer and Touré’s current independent agent Sarah Lazin made the table rounds, pausing long enough to ask if The Observer was mainly a real estate paper now, and  if The Forward had a website (it does) and if its comics are printed in Yiddish (they aren’t).

At the end of the night, our waiter added tip to the bill and an extra section for an “extra tip,” but we left before we could ask the author on the proper etiquette for the elusive double-tip.

Update:

Touré's diplomatic statement on last night's dinner charge: "I always tip 20 percent."

About the event Touré told us today: "I didn't want to have a traditional book event, I wanted to have a real party. DJ, wine...I wanted it to be fun. I think it worked."

To date, both shows have attracted plenty of media attention and generated headlines. But, at the same time, both shows have struggled to attract the young viewers coveted by advertisers.

According to The Observer's analysis of Nielsen data, so far this month, Mr. Ratigan's show is averaging 93,000 viewers aged 25-54 during the 9 a.m. hour: a 1 percent drop versus the same time period last year for the time slot. At 10 a.m., his program is pulling in 95,000 in the key demo, a 7 percent drop from 2008.

Ms. Snyderman's struggles in the key demographic are far worse. So far this month, her show is averaging only 54,000 viewers aged 25-54, a significant 34 percent drop versus the same time period last year.

One sign of hope for MSNBC executives is that both Mr. Ratigan and Ms. Snyderman are attracting more total viewers than last year's programming over the same stretch. Mr. Ratigan is up 25 percent in total viewers at 9 a.m. and up 23 percent at 10 a.m. For her part, Ms. Synderman has enjoyed an 8 percent increase in total viewers.

That said, viewers over the age of 55 don't count for much in terms of generating advertising revenue. And, at the moment, MSNBC and its parent company can use every dollar they can get.

But apparently not everyone at Englewood Cliffs found the interview endlessly interesting.

Twice, during the interview, the camera cut to CNBC anchor Dylan Ratigan. The first time, the camera caught him looking down, seemingly lost in thought. The second time, Mr. Ratigan was shown mid-interview flashing a huge manic smile, reminiscent of Jack Nicholson, poking his head through the bathroom door in The Shining.

Here's Dylan!

Well, in any case, it’s several thousand miles from Wall Street. And on Friday, CNBC's Fast Money with Dylan Ratigan will be broadcasting live from the Computer History Museum in San Jose, CNBC announced today. The cross-country brand extension, according to a CNBC press release, is part of a broader "cradle of innovation tour." No word yet on how the Fox Business Network, which had suggested it plans to position itself as Main Street to CNBC's Wall Street,might counter.

Although, the front lawn of, say, the Computer History Association of California, must look mighty tempting right about now.