I recently wrote an e-mail to my Congress-critter, John Shadegg, (Reptile) AZ, regarding the bank bailout. I was absolutely livid that Congress was even considering such a grand scale theft. It amounts to $2100 for every man woman and child in the USA. When the first vote came, and the original bank bail out failed, I was ecstatic. At last, Congress had developed a spine! And MY Congressman, John Shadegg, was one of the House Republicans who helped defeat the bill. Then came Wednesday, when the Senate considered its version of the bill, passed it, and submitted it to the House. On Friday, the House voted, and this time, the "new and improved" larded up version of the bail out bill passed. Guess who voted FOR the new bill? The Honorable John Shadegg! Furious, I fired off another e-mail, and this is the response I got. I print it here for your edification.
Years ago, when I took several courses in newspaper writing in college, I learned to edit using a blue pencil. Following that tradition, my editorial comments are in blue.
Dear Mr. Farah:
Thank you for contacting me about the Wall Street rescue package proposed by the White House and Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson. I am grateful you took the time to contact me and I appreciate your concerns and your passion on the subject. I hope you'll take a moment and consider my reply.
As you know, I strongly opposed the legislation when it was first proposed and severely criticized Secretary Paulson for not giving Congress more notice and for using fear as a lobbying strategy. I hope you also know that, based on Secretary Paulson's handling of the matter, eight days after he sprung this crisis on the American people I called for his resignation. Fat lot of good that did! And, you may be aware that I led the fight against the original bill. The Arizona Republic acknowledged, "Shadegg led the resistance, as he so often does, against cutting a blank check to bail out Wall Street." I was proud of you too, you duplicitous jackal.
You may be surprised to know and may not agree, but had it not been for the intervention of Senator John McCain who stood up to (1) the White House, (2) Senate Republicans, (3) Senate Democrats, (4) House Democrats, and (5) Senator Obama, the first bill would have been dramatically worse. No, it wouldn't have because it was the SECOND bill that got passed. When Senator McCain sided with House Republicans, the bailout bill supported by Senate Democrats and the White House included funding for ACORN, the community activist group which has fraudulently registered thousands of voters, and would have allowed judges to rewrite legally binding contracts. If Senator McCain had agreed with all other parties in the White House Cabinet Room that day, it would have been over. House Republicans would have been rolled and a disastrous bill would have passed. Are you saying House Reptillians have no moral fiber except when being led by a post traumatic stress fighting, whiskey slurping adulterer? It took courage to say no to the President and the Democrats with the economy in the balance. The bill I voted against, and that failed on the House floor on Monday, was a terrible bill and I am convinced that was the right vote. So am I.
In the week leading up to the first vote, not a single Arizona businessman called me to urge support for the bill. I reached out to bankers, investment bankers, mortgage lenders, and others in Arizona. But, no bankers called me to say the rescue was necessary. You think maybe they had been blind-sided, like rest of us?
Following the first vote, I wrote an op-ed in USA Today, which is attached, or you may find at http://blogs.usatoday.com/oped/2008/09/opposing-view-t.html#more. In it, I expressed my strong objections to the bill and insisted that two changes were essential. Only two changes? Two little changes to the biggest theft in the history of the planet? And pray, tell, what were those changes? Investigation of the shennanigans of the corporate officers of these companies? Guarantees that the companies that would be bailed out would pay back every dime of the bail out plus interest? Vetting the bill to see if it passed Constitutional muster? NO! The first was a modification of the mark to market rule, which as they were applying it, required that mortgage backed securities be marked down by financial institutions to the value at the moment, usually a firesale value, even if the owners of the property were making payments. The mark to market rule requires assets to be listed at their fair market value. What other standard would you use John? Magic Bean Counting? Pull it outta your ass accounting? This rule was forcing institutions to undervalue these assets, according to the experts with whom I spoke. "Experts" who helped create the mess, and also, now have a vested interest in Congress bailing them out. Forty minutes prior to the vote I was approached by a Republican leadership aide who said they would promise to alter the mark to market rule if I voted for the bill. 40 whole minutes? To decide the fate of the free world? I said, I don't deal in future promises; make the change in writing and I will be able to vote for the bill. Way to show principled leadership, John! The second change I pushed for was an increase in the FDIC insurance limit for bank accounts, a critical step toward calming the fears millions of Americans have for their retirement savings and small businesspeople have for their operating accounts. Calming fears is important? Those fears, John, happen to be based upon facts. The fact is that due to heavy mismanagement of the economy, primarily by the Federal Reserve, the US Treasury and the Congress of the United States, our banking system is a house of cards, and now those cards are collapsing. In other words, John, those fears you are trying to calm are fully justified! You shouldn't be trying to calm them; you should be addressing the underlying cause of the fears.
As you know, both of these changes were made. And thereby, in John Shadegg's small mind, the theft of over $700 billion dollars was suddenly justified! Shortly after the first vote failed, I spoke with Securities and Exchange Commission Chairman Chris Cox. He agreed to put into place a process by which mark to market would be reformed, and the SEC issued what is called "guidance" to correct the interpretation of the rule. And, the Senate bill, which passed the House, increased the FDIC limit to $250,000. I honestly argue that I didn't change my vote; they changed their bill. HA AH HA HA HA! OH MY GOD THAT'S FUNNY! HA HA HA HA!
But there was more than these two reforms. Between the defeat on Monday and the vote on Friday, numerous Arizona business people did call me to express their support for the rescue package and their concern about the economy. One businessman said that he would not be able to make payroll the next Friday if credit remained frozen. A farmer told me that he could no longer get chemicals for the herbicide applicator he uses to spray his crops unless he paid in cash, in full, in advance. National automobile sales fell by 27% in September; in Arizona they were down 32%--salesmen and mechanics are going to lose their jobs. Losing jobs and economic contraction is part of a free economy, John. It is a necessary part of economic freedom. It is painful, yes, but it weeds out the bad performers from the good ones.
The mainstream media blamed Wall Street greed for the entire mess. And, it's true that Wall Street greed played a role, but make no mistake, Congress laid the foundation for this debacle. Congress, working with Democrat administrations, enacted policies pushing easy money and "liar" and "subprime" loans on the market, forcing banks to make loans to people who could not afford them. As the hit on the economy became clearer, and because I believed the government was largely responsible for this mess, I did not feel it was defensible to do nothing and allow an Arizona auto mechanic, innocent of any wrongdoing, to lose his entire livelihood. Congress should have stayed and worked out a better bill, but that was not going to happen. The Senate was already gone and would not be returning for at least 45 days. The choice was between action and inaction: voting for a flawed bill we can hopefully fix in the future with a different Congress, or doing nothing and watching innocent people lose their jobs. Three things, John: First, you are leaving out the resposibility of the Federal Reserve whose loose money policies and artificially low interest rates were the fuel that fed this conflagration. Second, stop playing partisan politics. The Reptillians controlled the house for the vast majority of the timespan to which you are referring. They could have stopped this dog and pony show any time they wanted to. Third, I am glad that Congress's vacation is far more important than the largest theft/bail out in the history of planet Earth.
I hate the structure of the bill Paulson proposed. But you voted for it anyway. House Republicans wanted systemic reforms like a cut in the capital gains tax or the corporate rate income tax, both of which would stimulate our economy and create jobs for American workers. How about reigning in the Federal Reserve? How about reducing spending (by ending wars and corporate welfare)? How about balancing the budget and paying off the national debt? However, we were told these ideas weren't acceptable to the other parties. I believe the Paulson idea of having the government buy "troubled assets" and stock in banks move us toward socialism. I am not happy about it. Wrong. It is not socialism. It is Communism. One of the planks of the Communist Manifesto is centralization of credit in the hands of the State. Congratulations, John, you've voted for a major step towards Communism in this country.
House Republicans did force Paulson to accept our proposal for an insurance fund paid for by the Wall Street banks themselves. Forced Paulson? How is it that a mere cabinet member has any say at all in the laws of this land? Where did he get all the power? And why the fuck is Congress cow-towing to him? I voted for the final version, holding my nose, with the knowledge that I will fight for the changes, particularly the changes in Congress, which are necessary to protect our economy and ensure that the government limits its involvement in the market as much as possible and gets out as quickly as possible. HA HA HA HA! When has any government anywhere EVER limited itself?
You may not agree, but I hope now you have a better understanding of why I cast this vote and that it was my intention to do the best that I could for America and for the people here in Arizona. What I cannot understand is why you are lying to your constituents in your radio ads on KTAR that claim that you opposed the bank bailout. But I can understand why you backed the bailout. It's because you are a duplicitous jackal.
I appreciate your willingness to consider my response. Please do not hesitate to continue this dialogue and let me know your thoughts. You really do not want to know my thoughts, Mr. Shadegg. They are not very pleasant.
Sincerely, (!!)
John Shadegg
Congressman
Arizona 3rd District
U.S. House of Representatives
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Ramifications of a Bailout?
Almost everyone that I get into my taxi these days has something to say about the poor shape of the economy. They ask me if my business is down. They tell me if their business is down. I have recieved literally a dozen calls to see if I am hiring in the last two months. I am not hiring; I am quite satisfied with the size of my company now, and I need less, not more, headaches. Bringing in a new driver would just make the headaches worse. One woman called me from Sacramento California. Another guy called me from Saginaw Michigan. Both wanted to know if I was hiring and what the economy was like here in Phoenix. Now, I am no Human Resources director, but I do know that a cab driving job is not the kind of job one normally moves hearth and home to take in another state. It is rather odd.
Chief among the economic concerns is the bank bailout. No one knows what it's all about. No one knows what is going on. No one likes the bailout and no one trusts the government. In the last few weeks, of the hundreds of people I have had in the car, only one, a securities lawyer, mentioned the bail out in a positive light. And he did not seem too thrilled with the idea. He was referring to it as a necessary evil.
The amounts of money are what scares people the most I think. No once can fathom what a billion dollars is, much less make it apply to their own life. Actually, it is rather easy to figure out. There are 350 million Americans. That is a little over a third of a billion people. So, if you want to know how much is your share of these multi billion dollar give aways, simply knock off the word "billion" and multiply the remaining number by three. Thus, the $83 billion AIG bailout cost YOU $249. It also cost your wife another $249. And $249 for each one of your kids. (The good news is it also cost your worthless brother in law $249, too.) The $700 billion bank bailout cost YOU and everyone else $2100. Each. Now, I cannot fathom $700 billion, but I can fathom $2100. It's a third the price of a taxicab. I can't imagine $83 billion. but I can comprehend $249. that's the price of a rifle. (Hint hint).
Where are they getting this kind of money? No one really says. But if you look deeply enough, you can see only one of three options: They can borrow it. They can steal it (taxes). Or they can just make it the hell up out of thin air (inflation). The sale of bonds, which is what borrowing the money means, inevitably means higher interest rates (which will kill the rest of the sub-prime borrowers). Higher taxes means the Guvmint Goon Squad steals more of your cash. Inflation is... well, it's inflation. If you didn't live through the 1970s, you will find out what it's like soon enough. Either way it is disasterous for the economy as a whole.
Not to worry though. The government, in exchange for those dollars they just made up or stole or borrowed, is going to end up with ownership stake in all the major banks of the United States. Oh goody. Has anyone thought this through? If they own stock in the banks, won't they demand representation on each bank's board? If they have representation on every bank board, won't they have access to all the bank's records? Including yours and mine? "Badges? We don't need no stinkin' badges!" As board members, won't they have ability to approve and disapprove loans? Think about that for a minute. Every loan is suddenly a government loan. And forget about private equity funds, since the government has access to all the money, it can set interest rates in such a way as to put all the private funds out of business. Just exactly where is this authorized in the Constitution by the way? Or does anyone give a damn about that any more? What about defaulting on your property loan? If the government owns the mortgage company that owns the loan, then doesn't the government own the loan? Ever try to get out of paying a government loan? It doesn't work. Those are loans that are EXEMPT from bankruptcy discharge. Hey, at least we solved the mushrooming foreclosure problem!
Yes boys and girls, your Congress has just sold you and all of your freedoms to the banks and created a financial dictatorship. We have now gone back into the days of old King George, who could do anything he damn well pleased, because he was the king. I guess it is right what they say: If PRO is the opposite of CON, then Congress is the opposite of Progress! Back to the lead mines everyone!
Chief among the economic concerns is the bank bailout. No one knows what it's all about. No one knows what is going on. No one likes the bailout and no one trusts the government. In the last few weeks, of the hundreds of people I have had in the car, only one, a securities lawyer, mentioned the bail out in a positive light. And he did not seem too thrilled with the idea. He was referring to it as a necessary evil.
The amounts of money are what scares people the most I think. No once can fathom what a billion dollars is, much less make it apply to their own life. Actually, it is rather easy to figure out. There are 350 million Americans. That is a little over a third of a billion people. So, if you want to know how much is your share of these multi billion dollar give aways, simply knock off the word "billion" and multiply the remaining number by three. Thus, the $83 billion AIG bailout cost YOU $249. It also cost your wife another $249. And $249 for each one of your kids. (The good news is it also cost your worthless brother in law $249, too.) The $700 billion bank bailout cost YOU and everyone else $2100. Each. Now, I cannot fathom $700 billion, but I can fathom $2100. It's a third the price of a taxicab. I can't imagine $83 billion. but I can comprehend $249. that's the price of a rifle. (Hint hint).
Where are they getting this kind of money? No one really says. But if you look deeply enough, you can see only one of three options: They can borrow it. They can steal it (taxes). Or they can just make it the hell up out of thin air (inflation). The sale of bonds, which is what borrowing the money means, inevitably means higher interest rates (which will kill the rest of the sub-prime borrowers). Higher taxes means the Guvmint Goon Squad steals more of your cash. Inflation is... well, it's inflation. If you didn't live through the 1970s, you will find out what it's like soon enough. Either way it is disasterous for the economy as a whole.
Not to worry though. The government, in exchange for those dollars they just made up or stole or borrowed, is going to end up with ownership stake in all the major banks of the United States. Oh goody. Has anyone thought this through? If they own stock in the banks, won't they demand representation on each bank's board? If they have representation on every bank board, won't they have access to all the bank's records? Including yours and mine? "Badges? We don't need no stinkin' badges!" As board members, won't they have ability to approve and disapprove loans? Think about that for a minute. Every loan is suddenly a government loan. And forget about private equity funds, since the government has access to all the money, it can set interest rates in such a way as to put all the private funds out of business. Just exactly where is this authorized in the Constitution by the way? Or does anyone give a damn about that any more? What about defaulting on your property loan? If the government owns the mortgage company that owns the loan, then doesn't the government own the loan? Ever try to get out of paying a government loan? It doesn't work. Those are loans that are EXEMPT from bankruptcy discharge. Hey, at least we solved the mushrooming foreclosure problem!
Yes boys and girls, your Congress has just sold you and all of your freedoms to the banks and created a financial dictatorship. We have now gone back into the days of old King George, who could do anything he damn well pleased, because he was the king. I guess it is right what they say: If PRO is the opposite of CON, then Congress is the opposite of Progress! Back to the lead mines everyone!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Hank and Benny's original message to Congress
Leave $1.8 trillion
In a brown paper bag
By the phone booth,
Or you’ll never see your
Economy
Again!!
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
On Flag Worship
Yesterday, I was at a Residence Inn that I hang out at, waiting for walk up customers to come out, or for the front desk to call us. In order to be truly successful in Phoenix, a taxi driver has got to solicit hotels or bars. You have to give them excellent service in clean cabs, and be available when needed. It is just the way the market rules our lives. Most of the larger hotels have contracts with large taxi companies, or town car services. But there are dozens of smaller and medium sized hotels and motels that need help. Those are the ones to go after.
So I am sitting outside the Residence Inn which I have tried so hard to service these last months when Jenna, the desk clerk at the Residence Inn, comes out, and starts fiddling with the flag pole, which I am parked about five feet from. Being the nosey guy that I am, I decided to help.
The flagpole is hollow, and the ropes that run the flag up and down are hidden inside the pole itself. Access is gained by unlocking a tiny door on the side of the pole about five feet up. The maintenance guy unlocked the flagpole door for Jenna, and they looked at the mechanism for a few minutes before figuring it out.
Then the discussion began. What is the “proper” way to lower a flag to half mast? Jenna was of the opinion that you lower it all the way down, then raise it back up half way. The maintenance guy wasn’t so sure. I was of the opinion that you lower it halfway and be done with it.
“Why are you lowering the flag anyway?” I asked.
“There was a bombing in Pakistan. Someone blew up a Marriott Hotel.”
Helpfully I suggested, “Why don’t we raise a Pakistani flag to half mast then?”
Jenna just looked at me uncertain if I were joking or a raving lunatic. (It’s the latter.)
“It’s on orders from corporate.” Residence Inn is a Marriott property, so, apparently, all the Marriott hotels are lowering their flags.
When the flag came down, it was rather dirty from having been flown day and night for the last few weeks. I suggested it be laundered.
“How do we launder a flag?” asked Jenna.
“I don’t know. Can’t be too hard. It’s just a piece of cloth. There must be laundering instructions on it.”
I unclipped the flag from one of its clips, and looked at the margin, hoping to find a tag that said “colorfast, machine wash in cold” or something. I dreaded finding a “dry clean only” sticker on it since that would mean sending it out and what would corporate say?
“No, I mean what is the proper etiquette for washing a flag?”
“I think you’re supposed to burn it, ceremonially,” said the maintenance guy.
“Don’t let it touch the ground!” said Jenna.
“I wouldn’t worry,” I said, “I don’t see any boy scouts or Marines around.”
I didn’t find a cleaning instruction label; all I found was a small tag that said “Made in China” on it. I kept my idiot comments to myself.
“Well, let’s put it back up. We’ll wash it another time.”
They started reeling the flag back up the pole. About two thirds of the way to half mast, I noticed that I had reclipped the flag to the wrong clip, and the top was hanging nicely, but the bottom was kind of bunched up and weird looking. I pointed that out to my fellows, and down we lowered the flag again. After reattaching the flag properly, back up it went. But we hadn’t figured out how to tie it off and make it stay at half mast. The maintenance guy let go of the rope, and the flag came screaming back to the ground. Jenna grabbed it just before it touched earth.
I peeked into the guts of the flagpole through the little door, and fiddled with the workings. In a minute, I had worked out how to make the flag stay in place.
“The rope runs through this little groove thing here,” I said.
“Yeah, and then this little brass thing pushes down and locks the rope,” said the maintenance guy.
Up the flag went. Two thirds of the way to the halfway point, the maintenance guy says,
“Shouldn’t we salute?”
So all three of us saluted, and the rope slid out of the maintenance guy’s hand, and the flag skittered back down the pole. Maintenance guy grabbed the rope and hauled the thing into its proper place, while Jenna and I held our right hands over our brows in a very patriotic salute. I quickly snapped the flag’s rope into place, and Jenna locked the little flag pole door.
I sincerely hope no Pakistani ghosts were watching us. Or anyone from Marriott corporate for that matter.
So I am sitting outside the Residence Inn which I have tried so hard to service these last months when Jenna, the desk clerk at the Residence Inn, comes out, and starts fiddling with the flag pole, which I am parked about five feet from. Being the nosey guy that I am, I decided to help.
The flagpole is hollow, and the ropes that run the flag up and down are hidden inside the pole itself. Access is gained by unlocking a tiny door on the side of the pole about five feet up. The maintenance guy unlocked the flagpole door for Jenna, and they looked at the mechanism for a few minutes before figuring it out.
Then the discussion began. What is the “proper” way to lower a flag to half mast? Jenna was of the opinion that you lower it all the way down, then raise it back up half way. The maintenance guy wasn’t so sure. I was of the opinion that you lower it halfway and be done with it.
“Why are you lowering the flag anyway?” I asked.
“There was a bombing in Pakistan. Someone blew up a Marriott Hotel.”
Helpfully I suggested, “Why don’t we raise a Pakistani flag to half mast then?”
Jenna just looked at me uncertain if I were joking or a raving lunatic. (It’s the latter.)
“It’s on orders from corporate.” Residence Inn is a Marriott property, so, apparently, all the Marriott hotels are lowering their flags.
When the flag came down, it was rather dirty from having been flown day and night for the last few weeks. I suggested it be laundered.
“How do we launder a flag?” asked Jenna.
“I don’t know. Can’t be too hard. It’s just a piece of cloth. There must be laundering instructions on it.”
I unclipped the flag from one of its clips, and looked at the margin, hoping to find a tag that said “colorfast, machine wash in cold” or something. I dreaded finding a “dry clean only” sticker on it since that would mean sending it out and what would corporate say?
“No, I mean what is the proper etiquette for washing a flag?”
“I think you’re supposed to burn it, ceremonially,” said the maintenance guy.
“Don’t let it touch the ground!” said Jenna.
“I wouldn’t worry,” I said, “I don’t see any boy scouts or Marines around.”
I didn’t find a cleaning instruction label; all I found was a small tag that said “Made in China” on it. I kept my idiot comments to myself.
“Well, let’s put it back up. We’ll wash it another time.”
They started reeling the flag back up the pole. About two thirds of the way to half mast, I noticed that I had reclipped the flag to the wrong clip, and the top was hanging nicely, but the bottom was kind of bunched up and weird looking. I pointed that out to my fellows, and down we lowered the flag again. After reattaching the flag properly, back up it went. But we hadn’t figured out how to tie it off and make it stay at half mast. The maintenance guy let go of the rope, and the flag came screaming back to the ground. Jenna grabbed it just before it touched earth.
I peeked into the guts of the flagpole through the little door, and fiddled with the workings. In a minute, I had worked out how to make the flag stay in place.
“The rope runs through this little groove thing here,” I said.
“Yeah, and then this little brass thing pushes down and locks the rope,” said the maintenance guy.
Up the flag went. Two thirds of the way to the halfway point, the maintenance guy says,
“Shouldn’t we salute?”
So all three of us saluted, and the rope slid out of the maintenance guy’s hand, and the flag skittered back down the pole. Maintenance guy grabbed the rope and hauled the thing into its proper place, while Jenna and I held our right hands over our brows in a very patriotic salute. I quickly snapped the flag’s rope into place, and Jenna locked the little flag pole door.
I sincerely hope no Pakistani ghosts were watching us. Or anyone from Marriott corporate for that matter.
Friday, September 19, 2008
The Wicked Witch of Western Style Banking
Remember that scene in the Wizard of Oz where Dorothy throws water on the Witch, and she screams "I'm melting! Oh what a horrible world!" Well, its happening on Wall Street and.. what do you mean "plot spoiler"? That stinking movie has been out since the last Depression these banksters caused!
Anyway after a second thought I realized that I am far too ignorant of these things to comment intelligently, so I will leave that up to the guys at www.lewrockwell.com, at www.dailyreckoning.com, and at www.globaleconomicanalysis.blogspot.com . These guys can provide solid analysis about what is going on, and advise you what to do with the pathetic lump you have left in your 401K.
I can tell you how to survive this shit-storm when you have no money and are nothing but a working class guy. The Book of Proverbs says, "Go to the ant oh sluggard! consider her ways, and be wise!" (You know, I think that is the first time in literary history the words "Book of Proverbs" and "shit-storm" have ever been used together in a paragraph! Hurrah for firsts!)
My Proverb is "Go to the cockroach, thou bone-head! Consider her ways and survive!"
Cockroaches are difficult to kill. Just ask the ones that inhabited my kitchen for three years, non-stop. They were all over everything, and it did not matter what I did, I could not get rid of them. I tried sprays, bombs, traps. I even offered to buy them a trip to Flint Michigan, where my useless brother in law lives. What finally worked was when a pipe broke under the bathtub drain. The plumber had to cut a hole in the wall beneath the kitchen cabinet to get at the bathtub drain and repair it. Well, that's where the roaches had their little safe haven. Once that area had been exposed, the poisons made fast order of the little insect bastards. But I did learn a lot by observing the little critters.
Roaches can eat anything. They aren't choosey. You should be too. Learn to eat a thousand different cuisines because you never know when your going to end up somewhere where the only place open is a cheap dive that serves borderline Chinese food (Our chow mein is made with real chows!) More importantly is where you get your food--or ability to survive. You should have by now at least a dozen different salable skills. I am not talking about "career choices" I am talking about job skills that you can use in a pinch. Can you clean a pool and mow a lawn? You can work in landscape and yard care. Can you change oil and do basic mechanics on cars? Can you care for whiny brats, and change diapers? Can you sell anything? All these are marketable skills Hone them., Be prepared because you may have to use one or more of them to save money or to live on.
Roaches can live anywhere and are not concerned much about property values or the view. Oh no! you lost the McMansion? Well, buck up and lease a flat in the lesser part of town. I myself have lived in trailer parks and cheap ass apartments. One apartment was SO bad, the cockroaches would wake you up at night to tell you you had termites.
Roaches can dodge almost any destructive force, such as a shoe or a flyswatter because they are so damn observant. Keeep your eye out for forces that want to destroy you. This would include the IRS, the child protective services, and most importantly the cops. Remember the key phrase when dealing with ANY government official who is asking stupid questions: "I will say nothing without my lawyer present." Anything you say can and WILL be used against you--even if they have to make it up or take it out of context. The only thing they cannot use against you is silence. Keep your head shut.
Roaches have little or no loyalty. And your loyalty should be limited to close personal friends, and relatives. Under no circumstances should you be a patriot, or be "loyal to your country". Are you loyal to your city? Would you give your life to save the cultural goldmine and beacon of freedom and democracy that is Glendale, AZ? No? Then why the hell are you loyal to an even bigger boon-doggle? Patriotism will get you killed. Why? Because it clouds your mind to possible escape routes. Think of all those patriotic Russians who decided to stay and support the mother land when the Communists took over in 1917. Or those patriotic German Jews who thought they could work with the system and change it. Their corpses DID make interesting grainy black and white photographs.
Roaches breed like crazy. And you should too. Well, maybe not actually produce children, but you should cultivate excellent relations with the family. You made really need their support and skills sometime. Even your brother in law.
Roaches are really good at hiding. You should be too. Be unobtrusive. Don't stick your neck out, express radical opinions in public, or write on blogs (unless you just don't care anymore). Hide all your financial paperwork that you can. Keep your gun in a safe hiding place.
Roaches keep multiple food sources handy. Never ever keep more than you can afford to lose in a single bank account. And diversify. You should have accounts in several banks. If one of them goes tits up (and you won't know about it until it is way too late) you may not lose your money, but your access to it will certainly be delayed. Possibly by weeks.
Using these tactics, the common roach has been around since the days of the dinosaur. You can survive too! Just use the tactics of the roach! Consider her disgusting ways, and survive!
Anyway after a second thought I realized that I am far too ignorant of these things to comment intelligently, so I will leave that up to the guys at www.lewrockwell.com, at www.dailyreckoning.com, and at www.globaleconomicanalysis.blogspot.com . These guys can provide solid analysis about what is going on, and advise you what to do with the pathetic lump you have left in your 401K.
I can tell you how to survive this shit-storm when you have no money and are nothing but a working class guy. The Book of Proverbs says, "Go to the ant oh sluggard! consider her ways, and be wise!" (You know, I think that is the first time in literary history the words "Book of Proverbs" and "shit-storm" have ever been used together in a paragraph! Hurrah for firsts!)
My Proverb is "Go to the cockroach, thou bone-head! Consider her ways and survive!"
Cockroaches are difficult to kill. Just ask the ones that inhabited my kitchen for three years, non-stop. They were all over everything, and it did not matter what I did, I could not get rid of them. I tried sprays, bombs, traps. I even offered to buy them a trip to Flint Michigan, where my useless brother in law lives. What finally worked was when a pipe broke under the bathtub drain. The plumber had to cut a hole in the wall beneath the kitchen cabinet to get at the bathtub drain and repair it. Well, that's where the roaches had their little safe haven. Once that area had been exposed, the poisons made fast order of the little insect bastards. But I did learn a lot by observing the little critters.
Roaches can eat anything. They aren't choosey. You should be too. Learn to eat a thousand different cuisines because you never know when your going to end up somewhere where the only place open is a cheap dive that serves borderline Chinese food (Our chow mein is made with real chows!) More importantly is where you get your food--or ability to survive. You should have by now at least a dozen different salable skills. I am not talking about "career choices" I am talking about job skills that you can use in a pinch. Can you clean a pool and mow a lawn? You can work in landscape and yard care. Can you change oil and do basic mechanics on cars? Can you care for whiny brats, and change diapers? Can you sell anything? All these are marketable skills Hone them., Be prepared because you may have to use one or more of them to save money or to live on.
Roaches can live anywhere and are not concerned much about property values or the view. Oh no! you lost the McMansion? Well, buck up and lease a flat in the lesser part of town. I myself have lived in trailer parks and cheap ass apartments. One apartment was SO bad, the cockroaches would wake you up at night to tell you you had termites.
Roaches can dodge almost any destructive force, such as a shoe or a flyswatter because they are so damn observant. Keeep your eye out for forces that want to destroy you. This would include the IRS, the child protective services, and most importantly the cops. Remember the key phrase when dealing with ANY government official who is asking stupid questions: "I will say nothing without my lawyer present." Anything you say can and WILL be used against you--even if they have to make it up or take it out of context. The only thing they cannot use against you is silence. Keep your head shut.
Roaches have little or no loyalty. And your loyalty should be limited to close personal friends, and relatives. Under no circumstances should you be a patriot, or be "loyal to your country". Are you loyal to your city? Would you give your life to save the cultural goldmine and beacon of freedom and democracy that is Glendale, AZ? No? Then why the hell are you loyal to an even bigger boon-doggle? Patriotism will get you killed. Why? Because it clouds your mind to possible escape routes. Think of all those patriotic Russians who decided to stay and support the mother land when the Communists took over in 1917. Or those patriotic German Jews who thought they could work with the system and change it. Their corpses DID make interesting grainy black and white photographs.
Roaches breed like crazy. And you should too. Well, maybe not actually produce children, but you should cultivate excellent relations with the family. You made really need their support and skills sometime. Even your brother in law.
Roaches are really good at hiding. You should be too. Be unobtrusive. Don't stick your neck out, express radical opinions in public, or write on blogs (unless you just don't care anymore). Hide all your financial paperwork that you can. Keep your gun in a safe hiding place.
Roaches keep multiple food sources handy. Never ever keep more than you can afford to lose in a single bank account. And diversify. You should have accounts in several banks. If one of them goes tits up (and you won't know about it until it is way too late) you may not lose your money, but your access to it will certainly be delayed. Possibly by weeks.
Using these tactics, the common roach has been around since the days of the dinosaur. You can survive too! Just use the tactics of the roach! Consider her disgusting ways, and survive!
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Scott McClellan and His Marvelous New Book
THE LAST PRESS CONFERENCE
So Scott McClellan has come out with a new tell all book about his days as liar in chief er... press secretary for the Bush Administration. Not long ago, General Petreus testified before Congress about what was going on in Iraq, and columnist pundit and all around curmudgeon Fred Reed proposed some questions he would have liked to ask Herr General. In this same spirit, I imagine myself with press credentials, sitting in Mr. McClellan's book tour press conference. These are the questions I would ask:
More than a million Iraqis have been killed in this war, millions more have been injured, two millions have become expatirate refugees, and another two millions have been turned into internal refugees. With one press conference, you could have derailed the run up to the Iraq war, and prevented all this. Yet you chose to present half truths and falsehoods to the American people instead. Do you think anyone regrets your decision?
What childhood experiences led you to choose a career that enabled you to become a shill for an administration so dedicated to the worship of raw power?
After spending several years as White House Press Secretary, every day stabbing America in the back by telling us half truths and falsehoods, and grossly inflating both our successes in Iraq and the dangers posed by withdrawal, you have now turned around and betrayed the Administration. Does your wife trust you? Does she suspect you will betray her trust as well?
Speaking of your family, do your children talk to you? Do your parents?
When you enter a restaurant, do the respectable patrons leave when they see you?
How would you compare yourself to Joseph Goebbels, the Nazi Propaganda Minister?
When you are in a shopping mall or at an airport, and you see a young man in a wheelchair, do you feel a twinge of guilt?
You deliberately covered up your involvement in the Valerie Plame affair. What does she think of you? Does she expect an apology, and if you gave one do you think she would accept it?
Can you explain to me why you should not be in prison right now?
Since several prominent members of the Bush Administration have been indicted in Europe for war crimes, do you worry about traveling abroad?
The 1991 Gulf War only killed 91 Americans, while more that 4,000 American troops have been killed in this current war. Do you think this conclusively proves that George W. Bush's penis IS larger than his father's?
There are so many people who cannot make it out to Borders Books, because they are stuck in wheel chairs, or bed bound, or find it difficult to get around with a colostomy bag. Would you care to do a book signing at the Veteran's Administration hospital?
Have you been to Mass recently? If so, did the Holy Water burn your skin?
* * *
I called up the Alan Colmes radio show last night, which I get on my XM receiver. When I got to talk to Alan, I told him that if I had a chance to ask Scott McClellan one question, it would be that first one I proposed. Alan said that I was very angry .
Very angry? That does not begin to describe how furious I am with this administration and its duplicitous conduct, lies and murders. And Scott McClellan, Ari Fleischer, and Tony Snow are right at the top of my list of people to despise since they enabled it.
The very first documented victim of the war was a taxi driver from Jordan who was working in Bahgdad when the first wave of "Shock and Awe" began. He stopped to use a pay phone outside the Ministry of Justice, and a missile blew him to pieces. Should I be angry about that?
The book Generation Kill tells the tale of an Iraqi family whose car was shot up by Americans on patrol. It tells how an American GI pulled from the car the lifeless body of a three year old girl whose brains had been blown out by American machine gun fire. How the GI handed the tiny body to her father, and how her father wept bitterly. Should I be angry at that?
I think a better question is why aren't you very angry at that, Alan?
When I compared the Bush administration to the Hitler administration, Alan claims that I went too far; there was no comparison. He may have a point. After all, Hitler was a brilliant man. Rather, we should compare Bush to another US president--Ulysses S. Grant. Grant, a drunken sot and pathetic excuse for a man (just like W) had the US cavalry wage unrestricted warfare against the plains Indians because the tribesmen armed with sticks and rocks posed a "threat" to our way of life. Don't remember who Grant was? Well, pull a fifty dollar bill out of your pocket, and look at it. His face is there.
What's that? You don't HAVE fifty dollars? Gee, I wonder why? Maybe that's something else I just shouldn't be angry about.
I do have one more question for the former Press Secretary, though: "Mr. McClellan, why don't you go fuck yourself?"
So Scott McClellan has come out with a new tell all book about his days as liar in chief er... press secretary for the Bush Administration. Not long ago, General Petreus testified before Congress about what was going on in Iraq, and columnist pundit and all around curmudgeon Fred Reed proposed some questions he would have liked to ask Herr General. In this same spirit, I imagine myself with press credentials, sitting in Mr. McClellan's book tour press conference. These are the questions I would ask:
More than a million Iraqis have been killed in this war, millions more have been injured, two millions have become expatirate refugees, and another two millions have been turned into internal refugees. With one press conference, you could have derailed the run up to the Iraq war, and prevented all this. Yet you chose to present half truths and falsehoods to the American people instead. Do you think anyone regrets your decision?
What childhood experiences led you to choose a career that enabled you to become a shill for an administration so dedicated to the worship of raw power?
After spending several years as White House Press Secretary, every day stabbing America in the back by telling us half truths and falsehoods, and grossly inflating both our successes in Iraq and the dangers posed by withdrawal, you have now turned around and betrayed the Administration. Does your wife trust you? Does she suspect you will betray her trust as well?
Speaking of your family, do your children talk to you? Do your parents?
When you enter a restaurant, do the respectable patrons leave when they see you?
How would you compare yourself to Joseph Goebbels, the Nazi Propaganda Minister?
When you are in a shopping mall or at an airport, and you see a young man in a wheelchair, do you feel a twinge of guilt?
You deliberately covered up your involvement in the Valerie Plame affair. What does she think of you? Does she expect an apology, and if you gave one do you think she would accept it?
Can you explain to me why you should not be in prison right now?
Since several prominent members of the Bush Administration have been indicted in Europe for war crimes, do you worry about traveling abroad?
The 1991 Gulf War only killed 91 Americans, while more that 4,000 American troops have been killed in this current war. Do you think this conclusively proves that George W. Bush's penis IS larger than his father's?
There are so many people who cannot make it out to Borders Books, because they are stuck in wheel chairs, or bed bound, or find it difficult to get around with a colostomy bag. Would you care to do a book signing at the Veteran's Administration hospital?
Have you been to Mass recently? If so, did the Holy Water burn your skin?
* * *
I called up the Alan Colmes radio show last night, which I get on my XM receiver. When I got to talk to Alan, I told him that if I had a chance to ask Scott McClellan one question, it would be that first one I proposed. Alan said that I was very angry .
Very angry? That does not begin to describe how furious I am with this administration and its duplicitous conduct, lies and murders. And Scott McClellan, Ari Fleischer, and Tony Snow are right at the top of my list of people to despise since they enabled it.
The very first documented victim of the war was a taxi driver from Jordan who was working in Bahgdad when the first wave of "Shock and Awe" began. He stopped to use a pay phone outside the Ministry of Justice, and a missile blew him to pieces. Should I be angry about that?
The book Generation Kill tells the tale of an Iraqi family whose car was shot up by Americans on patrol. It tells how an American GI pulled from the car the lifeless body of a three year old girl whose brains had been blown out by American machine gun fire. How the GI handed the tiny body to her father, and how her father wept bitterly. Should I be angry at that?
I think a better question is why aren't you very angry at that, Alan?
When I compared the Bush administration to the Hitler administration, Alan claims that I went too far; there was no comparison. He may have a point. After all, Hitler was a brilliant man. Rather, we should compare Bush to another US president--Ulysses S. Grant. Grant, a drunken sot and pathetic excuse for a man (just like W) had the US cavalry wage unrestricted warfare against the plains Indians because the tribesmen armed with sticks and rocks posed a "threat" to our way of life. Don't remember who Grant was? Well, pull a fifty dollar bill out of your pocket, and look at it. His face is there.
What's that? You don't HAVE fifty dollars? Gee, I wonder why? Maybe that's something else I just shouldn't be angry about.
I do have one more question for the former Press Secretary, though: "Mr. McClellan, why don't you go fuck yourself?"
Sunday, May 25, 2008
We planned it all out together, Troy and I so we would not miss his flight out. Troy is my oldest biological son (as opposed to Junior, who is my oldest son, but is adopted. He started out as a foster kid of ours, along with his four brothers and sisters, but that is a different story for a different post.). He is 18 years old now, and has just finished up his first year at Northern Arizona University where he is majoring in journalism. I started out with a journalism major, too, but switched to beer research as soon as I turned 21, but that is a story for a different post. He spent the first couple of days after school ended couch surfing at our house, but had plans to visit my parents in New Hampshire over the summertime.
My brother got him a summertime job and bought his airplane tickets from his frequent flier account. Thank you brother. Anyway, Troy never told me the real reason he is going to New Hampshire for a summer. Crazy maybe? Wanted to see how his father really lived when he was young? Curiosity? I'll ask him some day.
We got to the airport about an hour early for his flight. TSA says we should arrive two hours early, but this is never necessary at Sky Harbor Even when they murder someone, TSA seems to be able to get flights out of Phoenix on time. One hour is plenty. We checked his bag, and made sure that nothing expensive was left in his checked baggage. There is a reason why some cynics have said that TSA stands for Thieves who Steal Anything. After the check, we went upstairs to hang out on the main concourse before Troy got on his flight. We looked at the airplane hanging from the ceiling. We used the automatic paging machine to page an imaginary character from a book Troy had read. And we chatted about nothing in particular as our final half hour together dwindled away to nothing. At last, it was time for good-bye, and he got in line with the handful of other people waiting to be patted down by the bored thugs at the security line. I went out and got back into the taxi.
On the way out of the airport, a strange feeling of loss came over me. I texted him that I missed him already, and it was true. Even when he left for college last summer, I didn't feel this way. There was that sort of empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, and a sense of certain finality, that at long last this kid's childhood was over, and he was no longer a kid. I get the sense that when he comes back, he will still be my son, but different in a grown up sort of way.
I glanced at the Ford's dashboard, and reality intruded on me. The little yellow "low fuel" light had come on. Unless I got gas quickly, I would end up walking. So, I exited the airport on the east side. The gas stations are a little closer there, and, as anyone can tell from my gut, I am allergic to exercise. The first gas station's price was too high. $3.85 per gallon is a bit steep. Yes, I know that is low compared to other areas of the country, but around here you can still get it for $3.67 if you look hard. The next gas station was a bit cheaper, so I nosed the cab into the station. there were no cars at the pumps, and I quickly noticed why. The station was out of gas completely. As I headed out to a third station, I began to wonder if this were a stupid manager's mistake, or a harbinger of things to come.
Anyone with a lick of sense knows that the real reason gasoline is so high is threefold: Increased demand from developing countries, the "war premium" of higher oil prices caused by the idiocy going on in the Middle East. But primarily the drop in the value of the dollar, again, due to the war and the profligate spending of this administration. I wondered if things would get worse in the Middle East, and if the rocket scientists in DC would need a draft to pull off their world improvement plans.
Let us hope not. But if they do, let it be known that my sons will not be playing along. I will not let my child join the armed forces of the United States government, and will do anything possible to keep the blood soaked hands of George Bush and company off of my son's life.
You see, one of my regular customers is a Viet Nam vet who was exposed to agent orange. After years of denials for treatment, the government is finally giving him the medical care he needs. But his body is a wreck. And getting decent service from the VA is like pulling teeth.
And my closest personal friend in the whole wide world now sleeps with thousands of other victims of government, veterans all, in the Phoenix Memorial Park. While I lived with my best friend Skip, he was plagued by nightmares, and would wake up four times a week screaming. He tried everything, but nothing would make the demons leave.
Then there are the folks I have picked up from time to time at the VA hospital. Men without legs, men without eyes, men without arms, men without minds.
Sorry George. I had a hard enough time seeing my son off into adulthood. I will not tolerate seeing him being dragged into veteranhood. My son is not coming back from a useless foreign war with half a body or half a mind. My son will never experience the thousand yard stare or the terrors of PTSD.
My son will never be a Memorial Day memory.
My brother got him a summertime job and bought his airplane tickets from his frequent flier account. Thank you brother. Anyway, Troy never told me the real reason he is going to New Hampshire for a summer. Crazy maybe? Wanted to see how his father really lived when he was young? Curiosity? I'll ask him some day.
We got to the airport about an hour early for his flight. TSA says we should arrive two hours early, but this is never necessary at Sky Harbor Even when they murder someone, TSA seems to be able to get flights out of Phoenix on time. One hour is plenty. We checked his bag, and made sure that nothing expensive was left in his checked baggage. There is a reason why some cynics have said that TSA stands for Thieves who Steal Anything. After the check, we went upstairs to hang out on the main concourse before Troy got on his flight. We looked at the airplane hanging from the ceiling. We used the automatic paging machine to page an imaginary character from a book Troy had read. And we chatted about nothing in particular as our final half hour together dwindled away to nothing. At last, it was time for good-bye, and he got in line with the handful of other people waiting to be patted down by the bored thugs at the security line. I went out and got back into the taxi.
On the way out of the airport, a strange feeling of loss came over me. I texted him that I missed him already, and it was true. Even when he left for college last summer, I didn't feel this way. There was that sort of empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, and a sense of certain finality, that at long last this kid's childhood was over, and he was no longer a kid. I get the sense that when he comes back, he will still be my son, but different in a grown up sort of way.
I glanced at the Ford's dashboard, and reality intruded on me. The little yellow "low fuel" light had come on. Unless I got gas quickly, I would end up walking. So, I exited the airport on the east side. The gas stations are a little closer there, and, as anyone can tell from my gut, I am allergic to exercise. The first gas station's price was too high. $3.85 per gallon is a bit steep. Yes, I know that is low compared to other areas of the country, but around here you can still get it for $3.67 if you look hard. The next gas station was a bit cheaper, so I nosed the cab into the station. there were no cars at the pumps, and I quickly noticed why. The station was out of gas completely. As I headed out to a third station, I began to wonder if this were a stupid manager's mistake, or a harbinger of things to come.
Anyone with a lick of sense knows that the real reason gasoline is so high is threefold: Increased demand from developing countries, the "war premium" of higher oil prices caused by the idiocy going on in the Middle East. But primarily the drop in the value of the dollar, again, due to the war and the profligate spending of this administration. I wondered if things would get worse in the Middle East, and if the rocket scientists in DC would need a draft to pull off their world improvement plans.
Let us hope not. But if they do, let it be known that my sons will not be playing along. I will not let my child join the armed forces of the United States government, and will do anything possible to keep the blood soaked hands of George Bush and company off of my son's life.
You see, one of my regular customers is a Viet Nam vet who was exposed to agent orange. After years of denials for treatment, the government is finally giving him the medical care he needs. But his body is a wreck. And getting decent service from the VA is like pulling teeth.
And my closest personal friend in the whole wide world now sleeps with thousands of other victims of government, veterans all, in the Phoenix Memorial Park. While I lived with my best friend Skip, he was plagued by nightmares, and would wake up four times a week screaming. He tried everything, but nothing would make the demons leave.
Then there are the folks I have picked up from time to time at the VA hospital. Men without legs, men without eyes, men without arms, men without minds.
Sorry George. I had a hard enough time seeing my son off into adulthood. I will not tolerate seeing him being dragged into veteranhood. My son is not coming back from a useless foreign war with half a body or half a mind. My son will never experience the thousand yard stare or the terrors of PTSD.
My son will never be a Memorial Day memory.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Improving Memorial Day
Yes, folks, it is Memorial day weekend. Time of fun and outdoorsy stuff and a random Monday off work and all that. Its time to go down the store and buy some expensive parts of dead ruminant animals, bring them home, and throw them over an open fire until they are nice and cooked, then cut them into little bits, and enjoy them with some nice potato salad which your brother in law hopefully did not leave out in the sun. Like last year. Yes, take a day to have too many beers, and throw each other in the swimming pool. Empty your pockets of ipods and cell phones, first, please. Then, after a fine day of fun and sun and swimming and beer, fall into bed exhausted, fool around with the old lady for a few minutes (or, as my wife prefers to call herself, the Young Porn Star), then get up in the morning to go to work with a hangover.
But aren't we forgetting the true meaning of Memorial Day? (No, not the Indianapolis 500).
Memorial Day was founded in 1866 to honor the dead of the American Civil War (also known by its more appropriate name, the War of Yankee Aggression), in Waterloo, New York, by the Sons of Union and Confederate Warriors And Descendants (SUC-WAD). People were to go to various grave sites and decorate them with flowers and little flags. (As an aside, if you are ever in trouble with your lady, and need flowers, because you did something really stupid like anything your brother-in-law suggested, ever, think "cemetery". Free flowers, anytime. Save you $20!).
This holiday was to honor the heroic, Christian dead who, heroically following the words of Christ to love your neighbor, heroically shot, cannoned, and bludgeoned their neighbors to death. Not to mention stabbed, burned, strangled, and blew up. Did I mention that chaplains on both sides said prayers of blessings over the troops before they were sent off to battle? Of course, these men were only following the orders of the criminal gangs (AKA "governments") ruling their respective territories. And after all, doesn't the Good Book say "obey the powers that be"? (Please pay no attention to the fact that this admonition was given by a man who was under arrest at the time he wrote it for disobeying the powers that be.)
But Memorial Day has become passe. Too many people look at it as an extra day off, or an excuse to discount their already low prices on pick up trucks. So I suggest a few changes and some new holidays.
First, I propose that we move Memorial Day back to its original day of May 30. Only, this time, we rename it. Since it really makes no sense to honor those who volunteered to kill for their government, (they already got their reward), this time we give it a name that remembers only those soldiers who died in war, but didn't volunteer to do so. We'll call it Victim of the Draft Day. We will honor those who, faced with the choice between the army or prison, chose the army. You know the guys. They are the ones who, unlike George W Bush couldn't pull strings to get into the air national guard; those ones who, unlike Dick Cheney, didn't have "other priorities"; or the ones who unlike Rush Limbaugh, couldn't develop anal cysts just in time to avoid combat. These are the ones we really should honor. You know; the ones who wake up screaming in the middle of the night from PTSD related nightmares. The ones down at the VA hospital who are made to wait for hours to be given shoddy service. The ones who have had eyes blinded, and limbs ripped off, because they just couldn't seem to score high enough on their SATs to get into college like Bill Clinton.
Since the veterans have one holiday already, we need to change Veterans Day. Veteran's Day started out as Armistice Day, a day to celebrate the end of World War One, and the onset of peace. Over the years, this gradually morphed into a celebration of veterans in general, and their "service" to the United States. But as I have shown, these men weren't serving their country so much as being forced into slavery by its government. Change number two will be to return Veterans Day back to Armistice Day, and renew a celebration of the onset of peace, rather than honoring war.
Now for the holidays I'd like to add. First, I'd like to add "Citizen's Memorial Day" on August 6. This was the day when, in 1945, the United States government, headed by Harry S. Truman, deliberately bombed the city of Hiroshima, Japan, incinerating tens of thousands, burning hundreds of thousands more, and wrecking an ancient and historic city. He did this despite misgivings and outright opposition by much of his military staff. The whole thing was unnecessary and constituted one of the most shameful moments in American history. Citizens Memorial Day will be held each year to honor the civilians that have paid the ultimate price for government. We will honor the memories of, and decorate the graves of those innocents who have perished to keep our government safe.
The second holiday I would add is called Imperialism Awareness Day. On this day we will remember the imperialistic tendancies of both the government and the big businesses that finance it to engage in expansionism, always with the excuse of "protecting Americans" usually with the real reason being expanding or protecting big business interests. I could not decide whether the date should be April 11, which is when, in 1898, the United States declared war on Spain for no good reason, or April 6 which was when, in 1917, the United States entered World War One for the idiotic purpose of making the world safe for democracy by restoring the imperial government of Britain, and protecting the tyranny of the czar of Russia. Finally, I decided on January 14. This is the date when, in 1897, the Safety Commitee, a group of American sugar barons, overthrew the Hawaiian queen's government. It was the first real international instance of yankee imperialism, and it led directly to Hawaii becoming first a territory, then a military base, then a state. Besides, the two dates in April are too close to the next holiday I would like to establish.
April 15. This day when we traditionally pay our taxes will be made into an official holiday called Paying for Folly Day. We celebrate it by sending large chunks of our income to Washington DC so the fools there can make more enemies for us, giving us an excuse to maintain the most expensive army in the history of the globe.
Of course, all this imperialism and warfare would quickly come to a stop if we were to do one thing: Keep tax day April 15, and move election day to April 16.
But aren't we forgetting the true meaning of Memorial Day? (No, not the Indianapolis 500).
Memorial Day was founded in 1866 to honor the dead of the American Civil War (also known by its more appropriate name, the War of Yankee Aggression), in Waterloo, New York, by the Sons of Union and Confederate Warriors And Descendants (SUC-WAD). People were to go to various grave sites and decorate them with flowers and little flags. (As an aside, if you are ever in trouble with your lady, and need flowers, because you did something really stupid like anything your brother-in-law suggested, ever, think "cemetery". Free flowers, anytime. Save you $20!).
This holiday was to honor the heroic, Christian dead who, heroically following the words of Christ to love your neighbor, heroically shot, cannoned, and bludgeoned their neighbors to death. Not to mention stabbed, burned, strangled, and blew up. Did I mention that chaplains on both sides said prayers of blessings over the troops before they were sent off to battle? Of course, these men were only following the orders of the criminal gangs (AKA "governments") ruling their respective territories. And after all, doesn't the Good Book say "obey the powers that be"? (Please pay no attention to the fact that this admonition was given by a man who was under arrest at the time he wrote it for disobeying the powers that be.)
But Memorial Day has become passe. Too many people look at it as an extra day off, or an excuse to discount their already low prices on pick up trucks. So I suggest a few changes and some new holidays.
First, I propose that we move Memorial Day back to its original day of May 30. Only, this time, we rename it. Since it really makes no sense to honor those who volunteered to kill for their government, (they already got their reward), this time we give it a name that remembers only those soldiers who died in war, but didn't volunteer to do so. We'll call it Victim of the Draft Day. We will honor those who, faced with the choice between the army or prison, chose the army. You know the guys. They are the ones who, unlike George W Bush couldn't pull strings to get into the air national guard; those ones who, unlike Dick Cheney, didn't have "other priorities"; or the ones who unlike Rush Limbaugh, couldn't develop anal cysts just in time to avoid combat. These are the ones we really should honor. You know; the ones who wake up screaming in the middle of the night from PTSD related nightmares. The ones down at the VA hospital who are made to wait for hours to be given shoddy service. The ones who have had eyes blinded, and limbs ripped off, because they just couldn't seem to score high enough on their SATs to get into college like Bill Clinton.
Since the veterans have one holiday already, we need to change Veterans Day. Veteran's Day started out as Armistice Day, a day to celebrate the end of World War One, and the onset of peace. Over the years, this gradually morphed into a celebration of veterans in general, and their "service" to the United States. But as I have shown, these men weren't serving their country so much as being forced into slavery by its government. Change number two will be to return Veterans Day back to Armistice Day, and renew a celebration of the onset of peace, rather than honoring war.
Now for the holidays I'd like to add. First, I'd like to add "Citizen's Memorial Day" on August 6. This was the day when, in 1945, the United States government, headed by Harry S. Truman, deliberately bombed the city of Hiroshima, Japan, incinerating tens of thousands, burning hundreds of thousands more, and wrecking an ancient and historic city. He did this despite misgivings and outright opposition by much of his military staff. The whole thing was unnecessary and constituted one of the most shameful moments in American history. Citizens Memorial Day will be held each year to honor the civilians that have paid the ultimate price for government. We will honor the memories of, and decorate the graves of those innocents who have perished to keep our government safe.
The second holiday I would add is called Imperialism Awareness Day. On this day we will remember the imperialistic tendancies of both the government and the big businesses that finance it to engage in expansionism, always with the excuse of "protecting Americans" usually with the real reason being expanding or protecting big business interests. I could not decide whether the date should be April 11, which is when, in 1898, the United States declared war on Spain for no good reason, or April 6 which was when, in 1917, the United States entered World War One for the idiotic purpose of making the world safe for democracy by restoring the imperial government of Britain, and protecting the tyranny of the czar of Russia. Finally, I decided on January 14. This is the date when, in 1897, the Safety Commitee, a group of American sugar barons, overthrew the Hawaiian queen's government. It was the first real international instance of yankee imperialism, and it led directly to Hawaii becoming first a territory, then a military base, then a state. Besides, the two dates in April are too close to the next holiday I would like to establish.
April 15. This day when we traditionally pay our taxes will be made into an official holiday called Paying for Folly Day. We celebrate it by sending large chunks of our income to Washington DC so the fools there can make more enemies for us, giving us an excuse to maintain the most expensive army in the history of the globe.
Of course, all this imperialism and warfare would quickly come to a stop if we were to do one thing: Keep tax day April 15, and move election day to April 16.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Okay here is a photo blog of stuff you will see if you visit Phoenix. A lot of them were taken with my Kodak digital camera, while a few were taken with my Blackberry. Which explains some of the lack of picture quality. But I hope you enjoy them anyway.
Ernst and Young building, downtown with construction for idiotic light rail project
The fountain between the office buildings at 2929 N. Central, Phoenix
The Gateway Building, 44th Street and Van Buren, Phoenix. One of my favorite buildings in Phoenix.
2394 E. Camelback Rd. Phoenix
City Hall, Phoenix. Lair of the beasts. Well, one pack of them anyway.
The boulders at The Boulders Resort, North Scottsdale
The old biplane hanging from the ceiling in terminal 3 at Sky Harbor Airport, Phoenix
The Arizona Center as seen from 5th Ave. just north of Van Buren Street, Phoenix
I'll post some more photos later. but right now I have to dash off to pick up a passenger.
Ernst and Young building, downtown with construction for idiotic light rail project
The fountain between the office buildings at 2929 N. Central, Phoenix
The Gateway Building, 44th Street and Van Buren, Phoenix. One of my favorite buildings in Phoenix.
2394 E. Camelback Rd. Phoenix
City Hall, Phoenix. Lair of the beasts. Well, one pack of them anyway.
The boulders at The Boulders Resort, North Scottsdale
The old biplane hanging from the ceiling in terminal 3 at Sky Harbor Airport, Phoenix
The Arizona Center as seen from 5th Ave. just north of Van Buren Street, PhoenixI'll post some more photos later. but right now I have to dash off to pick up a passenger.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Why Governor Spitzer is an Idiot
AND WHY CHEAP HOOKERS ARE BETTER THAN CALL GIRLS
Governor Spitzer of New York this week got his privates in a vice because he was caught using the services of a high priced call girl ring. Yes it's immoral. Yes it sets a bad example for the kids of New York. Yes it hurt his wife and embarrassed his daughters. Yes, it is a sin and he is going to burn in Hell. Yes he was a New York State Attorney who prosecuted victimless crimes like the one he was caught at. I know all that. Every pundit on earth is telling you that. I am here to tell you why, given his lack of restraint, he made a really stupid choice. He should have gone with a cheap hooker that any cab driver could have helped him find.
First, cheap hookers are cheaper. He paid some $4300 for what he could have gotten for $200. That is stupid. Furthermore, its traceable, which is doubly stupid. The FBI noticed his withdrawals. These withdrawals were set up deliberately so as to not attract attention, so naturally they did attract attention. Now, he is being charged with a species of money laundering known as "structuring". On the other hand, nobody traces $200 ATM withdrawals.
Second, cheap hookers keep no records. Half the cheap hookers I know can't even write their own names. And why on earth would they want to remember your brother in law? So no records are kept. No records means no allegations that this has been an ongoing criminal enterprise.
Third, cheap hookers don't watch the news. Any of it. At all. Which means they would never have seen the good governor's face before. Or if they did, they would have had a hard time putting name and face together. A good meth addled hooker would most likely say something like "Hey, didn't I see you on TV one time? You were the guy on that show. And all the other guys in suits were asking him questions and stuff?" See? Ignorant is better.
Fourth, is plausible deniability. This key phrase is the most important reason why famous people should always choose a cheap hooker. No one will ever believe that you were with her. No one will ever believe her when she says she was with you."What makes you think I would be seen in the area code with a fifty dollar whore? Why, I'm the governor of New York! If I wanted a call girl, I could afford a $5,000 per hour one!"
Cheap hookers are better.
It's not like an expensive call girl is going to do anything radically different. Or even look radically better. And in the dark, everyone becomes a porn star.
There is only one place for an arrogant man who wastes money, thinks he won't get caught, and thinks a TV apology will make everything all better.
Elliot Spitzer for President.
Governor Spitzer of New York this week got his privates in a vice because he was caught using the services of a high priced call girl ring. Yes it's immoral. Yes it sets a bad example for the kids of New York. Yes it hurt his wife and embarrassed his daughters. Yes, it is a sin and he is going to burn in Hell. Yes he was a New York State Attorney who prosecuted victimless crimes like the one he was caught at. I know all that. Every pundit on earth is telling you that. I am here to tell you why, given his lack of restraint, he made a really stupid choice. He should have gone with a cheap hooker that any cab driver could have helped him find.
First, cheap hookers are cheaper. He paid some $4300 for what he could have gotten for $200. That is stupid. Furthermore, its traceable, which is doubly stupid. The FBI noticed his withdrawals. These withdrawals were set up deliberately so as to not attract attention, so naturally they did attract attention. Now, he is being charged with a species of money laundering known as "structuring". On the other hand, nobody traces $200 ATM withdrawals.
Second, cheap hookers keep no records. Half the cheap hookers I know can't even write their own names. And why on earth would they want to remember your brother in law? So no records are kept. No records means no allegations that this has been an ongoing criminal enterprise.
Third, cheap hookers don't watch the news. Any of it. At all. Which means they would never have seen the good governor's face before. Or if they did, they would have had a hard time putting name and face together. A good meth addled hooker would most likely say something like "Hey, didn't I see you on TV one time? You were the guy on that show. And all the other guys in suits were asking him questions and stuff?" See? Ignorant is better.
Fourth, is plausible deniability. This key phrase is the most important reason why famous people should always choose a cheap hooker. No one will ever believe that you were with her. No one will ever believe her when she says she was with you."What makes you think I would be seen in the area code with a fifty dollar whore? Why, I'm the governor of New York! If I wanted a call girl, I could afford a $5,000 per hour one!"
Cheap hookers are better.
It's not like an expensive call girl is going to do anything radically different. Or even look radically better. And in the dark, everyone becomes a porn star.
There is only one place for an arrogant man who wastes money, thinks he won't get caught, and thinks a TV apology will make everything all better.
Elliot Spitzer for President.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Saving the Planet from Mortgage Death
A BRILLIANT SERIES OF SOLUTIONS TO THE WHOLE SUB-PRIME MESS (NO REALLY)
As anyone with eyeballs knows, the whole "subprime" mortgage mess is causing the entire US economy to collapse into the heap of worthless paper it was made out of. The problem is quite simple. Mortgage companies were taking vast sums of cash, and loaning it to people like your brother in law. These loans, were used to buy over priced houses. And, like your brother in law, the borrowers suddenly found they were in way over their heads because they either a) didn't read the terms of the mortgage, or b) lied about their income to get the loan, or c) are stupider than a turnip. My bet is c. Most Americans are incredibly stupid. Witness the popularity of Jerry Springer, and the re-election of George W Bush.
One of the results of this mess is a sudden glut in housing. Some areas are reporting that they have so many houses available, that they are actually using them as wildlife preserves.
Never fear! Paul the Cab Driver to the rescue! The solution to any glut is to increase demand and decrease the supply. so here is my proposal.
First, in order to increase demand we need more people who need houses here in the good old USA. To that end, I suggest that we immediately open the borders to anyone who wants to cross and get a job. The influx of people will immediately create a demand for houses, helping to sponge up the excess supply. Changing the immigration laws to make it incredibly easy to become a citizen would really help in this. Personally, I think it should be a lot easier to become a citizen than it is to become a borrower. In fact, people should be able to play as fast and loose with the truth on their citizenship applications as they were allowed to on their mortgage applications.
But we can also decrease the supply of houses. In this regard, Mother Nature can be a big help. Every spring we turn on the TV set and see these entire trailer parks that are blown to smithereens by tornadoes. And every spring we see Ma Barker live on TV crying about how everything she and her family owned is now scattered across the prairie. Well, not to worry! We simply let her take her insurance check (which the government is probably giving her anyway) and move her to Florida to take over some bankrupt property there. Then, in the summer when Ma Barker's new homestead is flattened by a hurricane, we move her to another foreclosure property in California just in time for the late fall fires, and early spring mud slides! Ma Barker may not be able to remember her own zip code anymore, and might suffer a bit of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but what the hell? She is serving her country and helping the economy get well.
Last, we need to immediately pardon all convicted arsonists, freeing them to roam the streets late at night matches in hand. Yes, a few crazy firebugs can do wonders to decrease the supply of homes. they might even be able to partner up with people who are upside down in their mortgages, solving two problems at once!
Yes, dear reader, never hesitate to ask a cab driver for advice, because his ideas are probably why he is driving a taxi in the first place. Next, you can ask me for advice about your marriage!
As anyone with eyeballs knows, the whole "subprime" mortgage mess is causing the entire US economy to collapse into the heap of worthless paper it was made out of. The problem is quite simple. Mortgage companies were taking vast sums of cash, and loaning it to people like your brother in law. These loans, were used to buy over priced houses. And, like your brother in law, the borrowers suddenly found they were in way over their heads because they either a) didn't read the terms of the mortgage, or b) lied about their income to get the loan, or c) are stupider than a turnip. My bet is c. Most Americans are incredibly stupid. Witness the popularity of Jerry Springer, and the re-election of George W Bush.
One of the results of this mess is a sudden glut in housing. Some areas are reporting that they have so many houses available, that they are actually using them as wildlife preserves.
Never fear! Paul the Cab Driver to the rescue! The solution to any glut is to increase demand and decrease the supply. so here is my proposal.
First, in order to increase demand we need more people who need houses here in the good old USA. To that end, I suggest that we immediately open the borders to anyone who wants to cross and get a job. The influx of people will immediately create a demand for houses, helping to sponge up the excess supply. Changing the immigration laws to make it incredibly easy to become a citizen would really help in this. Personally, I think it should be a lot easier to become a citizen than it is to become a borrower. In fact, people should be able to play as fast and loose with the truth on their citizenship applications as they were allowed to on their mortgage applications.
But we can also decrease the supply of houses. In this regard, Mother Nature can be a big help. Every spring we turn on the TV set and see these entire trailer parks that are blown to smithereens by tornadoes. And every spring we see Ma Barker live on TV crying about how everything she and her family owned is now scattered across the prairie. Well, not to worry! We simply let her take her insurance check (which the government is probably giving her anyway) and move her to Florida to take over some bankrupt property there. Then, in the summer when Ma Barker's new homestead is flattened by a hurricane, we move her to another foreclosure property in California just in time for the late fall fires, and early spring mud slides! Ma Barker may not be able to remember her own zip code anymore, and might suffer a bit of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but what the hell? She is serving her country and helping the economy get well.
Last, we need to immediately pardon all convicted arsonists, freeing them to roam the streets late at night matches in hand. Yes, a few crazy firebugs can do wonders to decrease the supply of homes. they might even be able to partner up with people who are upside down in their mortgages, solving two problems at once!
Yes, dear reader, never hesitate to ask a cab driver for advice, because his ideas are probably why he is driving a taxi in the first place. Next, you can ask me for advice about your marriage!
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Banning Baggies in Chi-Town
Long an art form in Chicago politics, Ward 2 Alderman Robert Fioretti brings grandstanding to a new level. The man wants to ban small plastic baggies because they are used in the sale of drugs. If this man is being paid to be an idiot, he should immediately ask for a raise. I contacted his office, and wrote him the following letter.
Sir!
I read with great pleasure in the Chicago Sun Times of Alderman Fioretti's brilliant idea to ban tiny baggies in Chicago since they are used in the procurement and sale of small amounts of illegal drugs. Banning these nefarious baggies will indeed go a long ways toward purging the scourge of drugs from the fine City of Chicago. However, even though the banning of these baggies will heavily dmage drug trafficking, I feel that this ban does not go far enough. I have a bit of knowledge and experience with drug addicts in an out patient treatment setting, and feel that I can offer some suiggestions.
For example, the evil crack cocaine which destroys thousands of lives every year is very often smoked in what can only be described as a crack pipe. A crack pipe is a metal or glassware pipette a fraction of an inch in diameter, and a few inches long. Into the base of this pipe, a tiny bit of metal screening, usually steel or copper wool, is inserted. The crack "rock" is then dropped down the top of the pipe, where it rests upon the steel wool, and then heat from a butane lighter is applied to the bottom of the pipe. The pipe is held with a pair of tongs or pliers to prevent the addict from burning his fingers. As the crack rock heats, it gives off gas which is inhaled by the drug addict, giving him the required high.
Obviously, the constituent parts of these crack pipes pose a threat to the City and should be immediately banned. Since the pipes themselves are glass or metal and usually less than a third of an inch in diameter, Chicago should now require that all pipes of that diameter sold in city limits be made of polystyrene or similar low melting point materials. But this is not enough. Steel and copper wool should also be banned from the city, since it is these things that are used to line the bottom of the crack pipes. At the very least, the manufacturers of Chore Boy, SOS Pads, and Brillo Pads should be the subject of a class action lawsuit by the City. Those big companies with the deep pockets should be made to pay for what they have contributed in the decay of our youth!
Since pliers are used to hold the hot crack pipes, the City should immediately institute a thirty day waiting period on the purchase of all pairs of pliers. Purchasers would be required to show ID, and fill out a back ground check form to prove that they were not a criminal mastermind or an insane person. this would have additional benefits as well, since pliers can be used as a weapon or a torture device.
Before any program is instituted though, one must think through the possible consequences of it. One consequence of banning crack pipes and their constituent components is that crack addicts may resort to other methods to ingest their drug. A popular way of smoking crack that does not involve pipes works like this: A crack rock is placed upon an ordinary spoon, then held very close to the hot burner of an electric stove. As the rock gives off gas, a cardboard tube of the type used in toilet paper rolls is then used to inhale the smoke. It is obvious that we cannot ban toilet paper. The health risks would be too great. However, the City of Chicago CAN and should ration toilet paper. Each Chicago citizen should be given a ration card, and should only be allowed a certain number of rolls per month which could be picked up at city warehouses or compliant retailers. An exchange program would be set up for empty toilet paper tubes. If one did not return all the tubes from his previous allocation, one could not receive any more paper. Only a few people would make that mistake! In addition, the returned rolls would be tested for crack residue to make sure that no one was misuing the rolls. Obviously, one would be required to obtain a city permit in order to give used rolls to hamsters.
Spoons should be required to be made out of plastic within the city limits since they would melt if used in any attempts to smoke crack. Also, all electric stoves need to be banned immediately, and replaced by wood fireplaces.
Other things that we should consider banning or restricting in Chicago include clothing with pockets, since pockets can be used to hide drugs and weapons; cars, since they are used to transport drugs and weapons; and of course electricity since it is used to light crack houses and power the stoves where the crack is smoked.
Thank you so much for your efforts to help rid the city of Chicago from the scourge of drugs! I rest assured that with fine men like you at the helms of government, this country will long remain the land of the free.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
On the Whole Presidential Race Mess
So let me see if I have this straight: Russia is angry that the USA is putting missile defense systems in Poland (to protect against non-existent Iranian missiles that will not go near Poland if fired). It's angry that we have bases in Khazakhstan and are sucking up to Uzbekistan and are still goofing around in Afghanistan. And to make things worse, we have just shot down a malfunctioning spy satellite, proving that we can do it, and threatening their spy satellites.
In Afghanistan, things are going swimmingly. The Taliban is back in power in all but the capital region, and opium poppies have now become the Afghan's single best cash crop. In our other "theater" of the Warren Terra, Iraq, we are told the "surge" is working. Which is quite possibly the biggest lie you have been told since the last lie about Iraq.
Meanwhile, next door to Iraq and Afghanistan, and just south of Russia, the Iranian government is struggling desperately to get a nuclear power station online (with the help of the Russians). The USA is opposed to this, since the fuel enrichment facilities might be used to make a nuclear bomb. Of course, my daughter's Easy Bake Oven might be used to make a seven course banquet for eighty too; both are about as likely. And that nuclear bomb, screwed to the top of the non-existent Iranian missiles might be used to attack Israel. Allegedly the missile will be launched from Iran, head straight for Poland, make a U-turn, and using the totally advanced Tom-Tom Go navigation system turn left and incinerate Tel Aviv. Why this should concern Americans more than Israelis is beyond my pay grade.
Iran has also decided to open its own oil bourse. What is a bourse? Well a bourse is a bourse, of course of course, unless of course that bourse does not take American dollars in exchange for the oil purchased. Not that this is a significant problem (for the Iranians at least) since we have an embargo in place to punish them for their non-existent weapons program, and to get even for those dastardly Iranians taking our spies--I mean embassy staff--hostage and evilly not harming them for more than a year THIRTY YEARS AGO. It merely shows that the American dollar is being viewed as more and more worthless as the months go by.
Which is not surprising since the dollar has lost a third of its value since the Bush administration took office. The Euro, once rated at 90cents is now at $1.49. The Canadian dollar is worth more than the American dollar too, for the first time since the late great Richard "Lion Heart" Nixon. Gold, silver, platinum, copper, and other shiny things are through the roof. And oil, which cannot be bought in Iran with American dollars, is $102 per barrel.
The Federal budget is out of control, to the point now that the US comptroller just ran screaming from his office. Not only is our budget the largest in the history of the country, it is the largest governmental budget in the history of planet Earth. It is also owes more money than any government since the beginning of human civilization. As a denizen of the United States, your share is now an arm and a leg, and a spleen and a pancreas, one kidney, a pint of blood, and a uvula.
Wheat prices are through the roof trading somewhere around $23 a bushel (normal range is $3 to $4 per bushel). The price of corn has doubled, as has barley and hops. This means in a few months we will see a massive rise in the price of BEER! Nectar of the Gods, and the real reason the Pilgrims landed in Plymouth Massachusetts (they were looking for a Seven Eleven), beer is what has long powered the North American Five-toed Couch Sloth. Imagine: It will shortly cost twice as much to sit in front of the TV, watching Tony Stewart and 40 of his friends drive around in circles, and yelling "WOOOO!" The couch potatoes yell "wooo"; I don't think Tony does until he wins.
More houses are being foreclosed every minute. The liars who lied on their loan applications to the mortgage brokers who encouraged them to lie, who passed it off to the mortgage companies that knew what was going on and turned a blind eye, to the banks which bought the loans, to the securities dealers who gold plated these turds and sold them as AAA bonds are now seeing the chickens come home to roost. The mortgage dealers have observed a new phenomenon called "jingle mail". This is where an upside down home owner walks away from a house, and instead of sending in a mortgage payment, mails in the keys to the house. Real estate prices are crashing across the board. Banks, which have lost billions in this debacle, have no money to lend, and have tightened loan requirements. This is like closing the stall door after the horse has run away, and after an Iranian missile has blown up the barn (via Poland). Banks are on the verge of going under one after the other. The crisis has spread from the housing market throughout the entire economy in the United States and the rest of the world as well. European banks are feeling the pinch too, since they heavily invested in these mortgage backed securities.But that is not the half of it. As houses are foreclosed upon, and new loans are getting harder and harder to qualify for, people are watching real estate values dive, and are finding they have no equity left in their houses to borrow from. Their credit cards are maxed, and there is no hope of getting more cash anywhere else. Business is booming in the bankruptcy work out industry, and little signs are popping up like mushrooms all over Phoenix saying such things as "Stop foreclosure now!"
The Feds are out of money. The States are out of money. Businesses are out of money. Individuals are out of money. Lucky thing the Federal Reserve is printing more money in an effort to save us all! Of course, this is inflationary, and the government last week stated that inflation is averaging 1% a month. That's twelve percent per year. Using government stats! Which means the REAL inflation rate is quite a bit higher unless you magically can eat washing machines.
All of this! And the Presidential race is concerned about whether or not Barack Obama looks good in an African dress.
They say if you don't vote, you can't complain. they are right. So I am no longer voting AND no longer complaining. Instead, I am laughing. (With you, not at you dear reader.)
In Afghanistan, things are going swimmingly. The Taliban is back in power in all but the capital region, and opium poppies have now become the Afghan's single best cash crop. In our other "theater" of the Warren Terra, Iraq, we are told the "surge" is working. Which is quite possibly the biggest lie you have been told since the last lie about Iraq.
Meanwhile, next door to Iraq and Afghanistan, and just south of Russia, the Iranian government is struggling desperately to get a nuclear power station online (with the help of the Russians). The USA is opposed to this, since the fuel enrichment facilities might be used to make a nuclear bomb. Of course, my daughter's Easy Bake Oven might be used to make a seven course banquet for eighty too; both are about as likely. And that nuclear bomb, screwed to the top of the non-existent Iranian missiles might be used to attack Israel. Allegedly the missile will be launched from Iran, head straight for Poland, make a U-turn, and using the totally advanced Tom-Tom Go navigation system turn left and incinerate Tel Aviv. Why this should concern Americans more than Israelis is beyond my pay grade.
Iran has also decided to open its own oil bourse. What is a bourse? Well a bourse is a bourse, of course of course, unless of course that bourse does not take American dollars in exchange for the oil purchased. Not that this is a significant problem (for the Iranians at least) since we have an embargo in place to punish them for their non-existent weapons program, and to get even for those dastardly Iranians taking our spies--I mean embassy staff--hostage and evilly not harming them for more than a year THIRTY YEARS AGO. It merely shows that the American dollar is being viewed as more and more worthless as the months go by.
Which is not surprising since the dollar has lost a third of its value since the Bush administration took office. The Euro, once rated at 90cents is now at $1.49. The Canadian dollar is worth more than the American dollar too, for the first time since the late great Richard "Lion Heart" Nixon. Gold, silver, platinum, copper, and other shiny things are through the roof. And oil, which cannot be bought in Iran with American dollars, is $102 per barrel.
The Federal budget is out of control, to the point now that the US comptroller just ran screaming from his office. Not only is our budget the largest in the history of the country, it is the largest governmental budget in the history of planet Earth. It is also owes more money than any government since the beginning of human civilization. As a denizen of the United States, your share is now an arm and a leg, and a spleen and a pancreas, one kidney, a pint of blood, and a uvula.
Wheat prices are through the roof trading somewhere around $23 a bushel (normal range is $3 to $4 per bushel). The price of corn has doubled, as has barley and hops. This means in a few months we will see a massive rise in the price of BEER! Nectar of the Gods, and the real reason the Pilgrims landed in Plymouth Massachusetts (they were looking for a Seven Eleven), beer is what has long powered the North American Five-toed Couch Sloth. Imagine: It will shortly cost twice as much to sit in front of the TV, watching Tony Stewart and 40 of his friends drive around in circles, and yelling "WOOOO!" The couch potatoes yell "wooo"; I don't think Tony does until he wins.
More houses are being foreclosed every minute. The liars who lied on their loan applications to the mortgage brokers who encouraged them to lie, who passed it off to the mortgage companies that knew what was going on and turned a blind eye, to the banks which bought the loans, to the securities dealers who gold plated these turds and sold them as AAA bonds are now seeing the chickens come home to roost. The mortgage dealers have observed a new phenomenon called "jingle mail". This is where an upside down home owner walks away from a house, and instead of sending in a mortgage payment, mails in the keys to the house. Real estate prices are crashing across the board. Banks, which have lost billions in this debacle, have no money to lend, and have tightened loan requirements. This is like closing the stall door after the horse has run away, and after an Iranian missile has blown up the barn (via Poland). Banks are on the verge of going under one after the other. The crisis has spread from the housing market throughout the entire economy in the United States and the rest of the world as well. European banks are feeling the pinch too, since they heavily invested in these mortgage backed securities.But that is not the half of it. As houses are foreclosed upon, and new loans are getting harder and harder to qualify for, people are watching real estate values dive, and are finding they have no equity left in their houses to borrow from. Their credit cards are maxed, and there is no hope of getting more cash anywhere else. Business is booming in the bankruptcy work out industry, and little signs are popping up like mushrooms all over Phoenix saying such things as "Stop foreclosure now!"
The Feds are out of money. The States are out of money. Businesses are out of money. Individuals are out of money. Lucky thing the Federal Reserve is printing more money in an effort to save us all! Of course, this is inflationary, and the government last week stated that inflation is averaging 1% a month. That's twelve percent per year. Using government stats! Which means the REAL inflation rate is quite a bit higher unless you magically can eat washing machines.
All of this! And the Presidential race is concerned about whether or not Barack Obama looks good in an African dress.
They say if you don't vote, you can't complain. they are right. So I am no longer voting AND no longer complaining. Instead, I am laughing. (With you, not at you dear reader.)
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Slow down in Old Town
Interesting things are happening in Scottsdale these days. Business is way way down. The bars are not nearly as crowded, the clubs and restaurants are slow. This makes it tough for the cab drivers. Usually, we park in front of bars and clubs, or just cruise around, waiting for someone to come out to the taxi. Then, off we go. When the job is complete, it's back to Old Town for another round.
Most taxi companies in the valley have added taxicabs because of the upcoming Super Bowl. The anticipation is that we will be needing a huge amount of more taxicabs. but until the crowds for the Super Bowl arrive, these taxis are just cruising around, trying to make money like the rest of us. too many cabs and not enough calls means financial hard times for most cab drivers.
Now I am one of the best there is, and that is not blowing my own horn. I am just stating a fact. So when I go out there and make barely a hundred bucks on a Friday night, you know there is something wrong. Maybe it is the slowdown in the real estate market, since up to a little while ago, it seemed like everybody and their brother was working in home sales and related business. Maybe it is just a general slow down in the economy brought on by the nervous reports coming in out of wall street these days. When your 401k tanks, you start thinking about cutting back on expenses. and dinner, drinks and dancing is a good place to start.
Looks like I am going to have to readjust my focus, marketing my taxi service to other businesses, landing medical accounts, etc.
In the mean time, if you need a taxi in Phoenix, I'm not too busy. (602) 684-4220
Most taxi companies in the valley have added taxicabs because of the upcoming Super Bowl. The anticipation is that we will be needing a huge amount of more taxicabs. but until the crowds for the Super Bowl arrive, these taxis are just cruising around, trying to make money like the rest of us. too many cabs and not enough calls means financial hard times for most cab drivers.
Now I am one of the best there is, and that is not blowing my own horn. I am just stating a fact. So when I go out there and make barely a hundred bucks on a Friday night, you know there is something wrong. Maybe it is the slowdown in the real estate market, since up to a little while ago, it seemed like everybody and their brother was working in home sales and related business. Maybe it is just a general slow down in the economy brought on by the nervous reports coming in out of wall street these days. When your 401k tanks, you start thinking about cutting back on expenses. and dinner, drinks and dancing is a good place to start.
Looks like I am going to have to readjust my focus, marketing my taxi service to other businesses, landing medical accounts, etc.
In the mean time, if you need a taxi in Phoenix, I'm not too busy. (602) 684-4220
Monday, January 7, 2008
The real life of a cab driver
You know, it is not all peaches and cream for cab drivers out here. I can only speak my friends who drive here in Phoenix in this regard, though, since I have not driven taxi in any other city. But this is what my friends and I tend to experience day after day.
You really don't know what is going to happen from the moment you get up in the morning. If you have a scheduled call already, you roll out of bed, shower, shave, and go get them. But if you don't, you simply sit in the taxi in the front yard, log into the taxi company's computer, and hope you get something. I can't tell you how many early morning hours I have spend with a hot cup of coffee in my left hand, and my right hand playing with the data terminal trying to get a decent run.
Early mornings are cool, though, in that you can bid on calls that are very far away, and still have a great deal of confidence that you can get them. For the uninitiated, bidding on calls means you tell the computer that you want a call. First one to bid on the call gets the first opportunity to accept or reject the trip. If you accept the trip, you run it.
But what do you do when you are like me, and don't HAVE a company to provide you with calls? I rely upon my instincts. I search the web and the newspapers for information on upcoming events that might need taxis, such as sporting events, and concerts. Then, I go and sit in front of the venues near the end of the show. In the mean time, I sit on designated cab stands or outside hotels, hoping someone comes out and wants to use my services. Lately, the web has been a great place to advertise, and I do have a few other tricks up my sleeve, which I will not tell you since a rival may read this column.
But the anxiety of not knowing whether you are going to make five dollars today or fifty or five hundred can drive you nuts. Over the years, I have become far more conservative with my money, rationing it out like a miser. I sincerely annoy my wife this way.
the instability and the anxiety of this job are definitely one of its down sides. If you need "job security", that warm fuzzy feeling of having a pay check every week, do not go into cab driving. go into real estate or something.
What's that?
Oh, I'm sorry. I have just been informed that real estate and its related fields are not doing so hot. Try working at a funeral parlor. You never get thrown out of work, and people are just dying to use your services. Meanwhile, I gotta cruise on over to the Phoenix Convention Center's website and see what is coming up. Meanwhile, you folk can look at this. It's a picture of the Westward Ho, one of the first resorts here in Phoenix, though now it has been converted over to elderly people's housing.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Fiesta Bowl after action report
Well, I can finally breathe for a few minutes after the business of the first week of the year. Of course, there is New Years, which is always a great time to make money, except for this year. Everyone was bitching and whining about how they did not make as much money this year. Course, cab drivers will bitch about anything, but that is a topic for another day. New Years WAS down from last year though.
So we all looked forward to the mighty Fiesta Bowl. Every year since football was a baby, the Fiesta Bowl was played in Tempe, right after the New Year. And every year the drunken college fans would throng Tempe's Mill Ave directly after the game, milling about (Which is why it is called Mill Avenue) and using lots and lots of taxicabs.
That all changed after the Arizona Suckwads (I mean Cardinals. did I call them the Suckwads? Must be a typo.) force fed a publicly financed stadium down our taxpayers throats. Lucky thing I dodge taxes. Do you believe those bastards originally wanted to build the stadium in Tempe at the end of a runway for Sky Harbor Airport? Yeah, THE main airport. Just like Shea Stadium only directly in the flight path.
Well, the tax leeches were forced to move the stadium out to Glendale because people got a little upset about the location after 9/11. Seems people did not want to risk someone screaming Allah Akbar! and flying a jet into the stadium on third down with 5 yards to go.
It was moved out to a large vacant area in West Bumf**k (I mean Glendale), far away from anything resembling a bar. A bunch of bars sprang up around the stadium, but for the last two years it has not been the same.
For starters, there is nowhere for the taxis to cruise. All the bars and other temples to Bacchus are located in the center of this complex of buildings which includes the stadium and parking garages. And it is surrounded by this giant thousand acre parking lot. Which has no place for taxis to cruise. Or even sit and park for that matter. (Nice city planning, Glendale!)
So at the end of a game or huge event, we find that the taxicabs are forced to stage in a dirt lot about a quarter mile from the stadium. The drunks now have to stagger a long long way to get to us.
Then there is the parking lot attendants who are running the whole show. there is only one job on the planet that is worse than port-o-john emptier guy, and that is parking lot attendant for the taxicab lot here in gGendale after a game.
For starters, these poor characters have no experience with taxicabs. They might have seen a cab once on TV, but that was late at night, and they were flipping channels anyway. They have never directed traffic before either. Couple that with the fact that two thirds of the cab drivers are straight off the boat from third world piss holes you would not want your brother-in-law to live in. Then add the fact that everyone is hungry from a shitty New Years Eve, and you have a recipe for chaos. Picture seventy taxicabs crammed into a dirt lot, with sixty Arabs, five Croatians, and five angry red neck Anglos all arguing about who is first in line, and whether someone who has waited an hour to get to the front of the mob can turn down a customer who is going all of two miles. The parking lot attendants consisted of three unemployed Walmart Greeters, and this little blond woman. Blondie was about five foot zero, and PMSing really bad. This woman was getting in the face of this fat Croatian about four times her size, threatening to bodily throw him off the parking lot if he did not take the next customer no matter where he went. It was like watching a little yellow Australian shepherd dog harass a steer. Remarkable.
While watching this sideshow slowly unfurl, and doing my best to sow additional chaos as needed, I ran into my old buddy Marty (picture above). I showed him my new
Blackberry, and informed him that since I had switched phones, I had lost his number. would he be so kind as to give it to me again? He gave it to me, and then I asked him to pose for the camera, so that I could add his picture as an icon to his phone number. That way when he calls his picture shows up as well as his phone number. Well, at first, he balked and made a really nasty face. So I snapped a photo. Then I told him that if he didn't give me a good shot, I would post the nasty one on the web. So he let me take a nice photo.
"I think I'll post this nasty one on the web anyway."
"You wouldn't dare," he said.
Wrong Marty.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
New Years Eve post mortum (or is it mortem?)
Ok, New Years was a good drive, but not a great one. Probably had something to do with the economy starting to slow down. You know, from the sub prime mortgage mess. Yes, all you idiots out there who actually believed the swine that called themselves MORTGAGE BROKERS and bought into the sub prime adjustable rate pipe dreams.
For example, I met a cop in Peoria AZ, not long ago, and he had just purchased himself a $350,000 home in north Glendale. Hah! On a cop salary! And his wife isn't working! Ha Ha Ha! Idiot got an adjustable rate mortgage with a 1% teaser rate, and low low payment he could actually afford. Trouble is, two years later, it adjusted up to 9% and now he is totally under water because he can't make the payments! HA HA HA!! Serves the guy right for giving me a ticket for blitzing a stop sign at 62 mph in a posted 25 zone. Oh well, he will probably make ends meet by dealing a little dope on the side. Hell, I know I would seriously consider it. And its not that hard for cops to score the dope, either. Say for example you bust a guy with 20 ounces of weed. (Good hydro, not that cheap ass stuff your brother in law gets.) You write him up for say 5 ounces, and pocket the rest yourself. who is going to complain? the defendant?
"Yer honor, it ain't right he be charging me with possestion of 5 ounces of weed. I had about a pound and a half minus the stuff me and my cousin Drake burnt up in the back seat of his Camaro."
Anyway the economy is collapsing. You can tell this because all the real estate get rich quick snakes are now selling books giving away the secrets to flipping houses.
Isn't capitalistic excess grand?
Made about $450 on New Years Eve, and the grand part of it is that no one threw up in the car! In fact the last guy who did throw up in my cab was a cop (Actually, the third to last. There was the illegal alien who hurled, and the demure little centerfold wannabe who drank way too much Jagermeister.)
But this cop threw up in my taxi. Granted, he was off duty, but I was furious, cuz he actually got some on my shirt! Bastard! I yelled and hollered at him, and his girlfriend said that I should watch my tongue because he was an off duty cop!
"Well, he should know the laws about public intoxication, then!"
I got 150 clams out of the girl friend.
But New Years Eve, nothing happened. It was all a bunch of slightly drunk folk who wanted to be taken home because they did not want to chance a DUI.
How come I don't get any lunatic hookers who want to beat the crap out of their meth dealers anymore?
Prospero Anno Neuvo everyone! I know mine will be.
For example, I met a cop in Peoria AZ, not long ago, and he had just purchased himself a $350,000 home in north Glendale. Hah! On a cop salary! And his wife isn't working! Ha Ha Ha! Idiot got an adjustable rate mortgage with a 1% teaser rate, and low low payment he could actually afford. Trouble is, two years later, it adjusted up to 9% and now he is totally under water because he can't make the payments! HA HA HA!! Serves the guy right for giving me a ticket for blitzing a stop sign at 62 mph in a posted 25 zone. Oh well, he will probably make ends meet by dealing a little dope on the side. Hell, I know I would seriously consider it. And its not that hard for cops to score the dope, either. Say for example you bust a guy with 20 ounces of weed. (Good hydro, not that cheap ass stuff your brother in law gets.) You write him up for say 5 ounces, and pocket the rest yourself. who is going to complain? the defendant?
"Yer honor, it ain't right he be charging me with possestion of 5 ounces of weed. I had about a pound and a half minus the stuff me and my cousin Drake burnt up in the back seat of his Camaro."
Anyway the economy is collapsing. You can tell this because all the real estate get rich quick snakes are now selling books giving away the secrets to flipping houses.
Isn't capitalistic excess grand?
Made about $450 on New Years Eve, and the grand part of it is that no one threw up in the car! In fact the last guy who did throw up in my cab was a cop (Actually, the third to last. There was the illegal alien who hurled, and the demure little centerfold wannabe who drank way too much Jagermeister.)
But this cop threw up in my taxi. Granted, he was off duty, but I was furious, cuz he actually got some on my shirt! Bastard! I yelled and hollered at him, and his girlfriend said that I should watch my tongue because he was an off duty cop!
"Well, he should know the laws about public intoxication, then!"
I got 150 clams out of the girl friend.
But New Years Eve, nothing happened. It was all a bunch of slightly drunk folk who wanted to be taken home because they did not want to chance a DUI.
How come I don't get any lunatic hookers who want to beat the crap out of their meth dealers anymore?
Prospero Anno Neuvo everyone! I know mine will be.
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