If there will be Justice, without which we will at a later date mimic this “financial crisis” like a funhouse mirror, the American economy SHOULD get substantially worse before it gets better.
All this meddling and micromanaging, aside from bolstering yesterday’s ineptitude by undermining tomorrow’s productivity, serves chiefly to mitigate the losses of the richest and most rapacious men on earth. They went overboard, like Midas. An exhilarating ride gone off the tracks — reminds me of the old Wild Mouse ride, at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk back in the day. HAIR RAISING.
Now we’re all scrambling like chickens with our heads cut off trying desperately to interrupt as little as possible the same reckless spending that got us into trouble in the first place. In order to keep the same kingpins in their dominant positions, albeit with everyone’s numbers adjusted by the Creative Accounting Index. This is Theater of the Absurd, nothing less.
My countrymen are cowards, nothing more.
Unmitigated Assholes are not only freewheeling with impunity, they are being hyper rewarded with bailouts and bonuses. Soft, spoiled, and selfish, an apparently commanding majority of Americans are prepared to let it slide so long as their personal prosperity and security can be re-established . . . albeit with everyone’s numbers slashed by the Cheating Index. Please don’t hurt us.
“Not in the face” has been replaced by “Don’t take my remote control.”
Government agencies investigate one another. Police investigate their own brutality. Federal Falderal. I’m coining that term, right here and now — captured in the bowels of the electronic archives that my sneaky, pervy Uncle Sam is collecting. The other day, I coined Slackerocity. I coined it at a Board That Shall Not Be Named unless its elder statesmen start standing up for women when Hostile Sexists spew their venom. I confirmed coinage of Slackerocity in an email. Here’s what I know. If I said something on a Board and confirmed it by email and it offended my sneaky, pervy Uncle Sam, he wouldn’t hesitate to declare it sufficient grounds to persecute me. He would assert with the clout of his iron fist that my damning words were a MATTER OF RECORD. So too, then, with Federal Falderal and Slacerocity. I am ON RECORD.
See, I have had an Epiphany. I’ll get to all the paperwork when and if I get to all the paperwork. Life is short and the world is big, and we are wasting both while Political High Flyers fly high on the backs of the Working Poor. And I’ve got hard news for you-You. I don’t care WHAT your lifestyle — it matters not, how modest OR HOW GRAND — if all you do is work in order to keep that boat afloat and your own nose above water, you are Working Poor.
When Henry Paulson browbeat Congress into authorizing a blank check for TARP funds, a lot of the scare was that companies would not be able to meet bankroll without passage of the Welfare Wizardry. Why are we not talking about the APPALLING revelation that so many organizations which accrue payroll liability do not have the next payroll banked? Will the people with the perky parachutes please ponder what is liable to happen if a large workforce that lives hand-to-mouth puts in two weeks’ labor only to discover that there is no money to cover their paychecks? Municipal Mayhem, that’s what.
Shy of Force, there is only one venue to play hardball and it’s the marketplace.
That is why before America attacks a mutinous-some-might-say-willful country, “we” impose Economic Sanctions.