The Madoff Bunch: Here’s the Story

These three entities (since AIG isn’t a person, except legally) deserve each other.

One is obsessed with motherhood - willing to do the strangest things to be pregnant - and yet, can’t take care of a Yorkie.

Then there is Bernie. Bernard Madoff swindles billions away from a host of snobby elites (and yes, they were elite, else, Bernie wouldn’t know you or I) and has zero conscience about it. Imagine that. Even wants out of jail so he can save his wife’s assets and likely, do himself before he goes to the big house.

Bernie’s Victims:

$1.8 Billion : J. EZRA MERKIN: The chairman of former General Motors Corp.
financing arm GMAC is a money manager at Ascot Partners LLC in New York, which
is in charge of investing funds from Yeshiva University and numerous Jewish
organizations. One his most vocal investors is Mort Zuckerman’s foundation which is out $30 million.
$300 Million : Fred Wilpon, co-owner of the New York Mets
Unknown loss: KEVIN BACON and KYRA SEDGWICK
$280,000: PEDRO ALMODÓVAR: The Spanish filmmaker, known for productions like “All About My Mother“ and for launching the US career of Penelope Cruz.
Millions: JEFFREY KATZENBERG: The DreamWorks Animation CEO
Roughly $230 Million : ARPAD BUSSON/UMA THURMAN/ELLE MACPHERSON: Uma Thurman’s fiancé, Arpad Busson, manages a $12.5 billion hedge fund. Macpherson is his ex.
Millions: ERIC ROTH: The Golden Globe-nominated screenwriter of “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”
$20 Million: NICOLA HORLICK: This British investing superstar.

None of this though is even close to 'the haircut', you, the American taxpayer will take in supporting AIG. $180 Billion up in smoke. $165 Million sent out in bonuses that, while, we may recoup them, what about the other $179.8 Billion??? (You might want to start trading CDS - Credit Default Swaps - to get back some money directly from the source.)

So, to wrap up this little trio of Faces of Crass Behavior, I compose this little ditty set to the Brady Bunch theme:

Here’s the story of the Octalady,
Who was bringing up shitloads of weird babies .
All of them had sperm donors, like their brothers
The youngest ones in foster care.

Here’s the story, of a man name Bernie,
Who was busy bilking thousands of his own.
They were Jews and Gentiles – screwed all together,
Yet they were not alone.

Till the one day when AIG met this maelstrom,
And they knew that it was much more than a hunch.
That this group would somehow form a syndicate.
That’s the way they all became the Madoff Bunch.
The Madoff Bunch, The Madoff Bunch.

That’s the way they became the Madoff Bunch…

Sorry that my rhyme scheme is off.

But then again, these schemers and parasites usage of a rhythm method is about as likely to succeed as I am in getting the CEO job at JPMorganChase, dating the latest it girl, and trying out and playing for Fred Wilpon’s Mets this year.

I’m very tired of being the ball vs. the louisville slugger in the game of the United States of America’s economy/casino run by MBAs that are down with OPM - Other Peoples’ Money - and don’t give reach arounds with their screw jobs.

I have no hope at this moment that our country is going to do better if we don’t send a very strong message to these jokers of economic jihad that we Americans are fed up with the crying game after the c-sucker job of economic destruction.

ENOUGH!!!

I'm Back!!!: Resistance was futile and March Madness Set In

I do like to blog. Yes, I get tired of writing the same old stuff that others do. Picking out f-ed up situations, and trying to find some silver lining, or otherwise, putting my spin on the mess as if 1,000,000 others are not doing the same.

It's hard to be original. Some will likely tell you, "I've heard that before, somewhere else." Or, "you have to have readership too."

I really don't know what works best - I just write anything for no one.

I went back to researching for the baseball book, and I changed the title to keep with the time frame I'll be covering. I've written a few blogs at my other sites: Bringin' Gas and Anything Written. The last one is about March Madness and a friendship.

Excerpt:

I used to be a total addict at tourney time. When younger, and free of
things like work and with a desire to spend money I really didn’t have, watching
basketball at a watering hole was just natural. Spending Thursday-Sunday that
1st week meant I could sluff off and kill time with friends.

My then best friend was a Minneapolis native, and we killed a few
March Madnesses off at the Mall of America. Patriotic to celebrate sport inside this
lasting monument to American consumerism. We’d go to the top floor where all the bars were, eat plenty of greasy food, drinking all of the world’s favorite
pints.

The games always seemed exciting. We’d have our brackets worked
out five different ways, with $10,$20 or $50 in the mix for a bet. The buzz
after a game-ending miracle shot, or a David smacking around a Goliath for 39
minutes, only to fall short, was a pleasure to be apart of.

The last picture is just a gratuitous shot of cheerleaders that will be cheering their bobby socks off for 6'1"-7'1" muscular athletes trying to put an orange ball through a hole. They (the athletes) will wind up with one or two of these females as conquests after the fray of battle that is March Madness. And usually will forget about these happy lassies before the sheets dry. Yet, we give athletes such credit for their work, and sometimes forget, they can be every bit the morons we dislike on Wall Street. (Yet, I too wish I'd been one of these morons for a year...)

Though I am back to blogging, here, I will not devote too much time to posting. Likely a post or two every couple of weeks at most. Depends on my ambition.

Like friendships, athletic endeavors and women, I never really know the outcomes of my efforts. The conquests are few and far between. And my ambitions are usually scattered.

E.R.: How a show intertwines with a life

During the course of your life, if you watch TV regularly, you will find a rare show that mirrors or reflects the march of time.

I can remember the early episodes of ER (1994-2009) with Noah Wyle, George Clooney, Eriq LaSalle and many, many others. I watched the show not for the ER speak, or the never-ending, soapy, romantic hook-ups, or even the Chicago locale that is the backdrop. No, the characters were draw. Somehow, taking Michael Crichton’s brain and putting it with young, inspired actors led to a great and unforgettable TV series.

Though I watch religiously from 1995-2000, meaning, I would put off going to a watering hole just for ER, I also had my periods on sabbatical while going through the ‘ER of Life.’

I went through bankruptcy in 1997 – the 1st real sign my post-college life wouldn’t be quite as charmed as Dr. John Carter’s poor little rich boy early days. There is often a sense of privilege and pride in knowing you are not so screwed up as your fellow classmates. Not I. The finance doctor did teach me a lesson, but that was only one of many trips to the Emergency Room for me.

In 1999, I went to an actual emergency room for various reasons, none of which were really resolved that particular night. The days after my talks to concerned folks did not resolve much, except that I needed a new line of work. And I had to evolve in my thinking…still.

ER evolved too. As George Clooney took his big screen looks to La-La where the ocean laps cold invigorating water, a bunch of new med school grads and nurses came in to bask in the small screen light. Guys name Luka and girls name Sam would become the new hunks and heroines to see on Thursday night at 9PM. (Now George uses his fame to fight the problems in Darfur. Good Egg that Clooney...)

By early 2001, I was up and down, and soon, out on another prolonged ER visit. This time it was a disease of the mind and soul. This disease needs treatment the type of which most would rather swallow arsenic, or take the lash to their bare back, to avoid. Well, I took the treatment for 4 years. My ER visit this time introduced me to terminal folks – not dying, but dead in spirit – as 80% would never seek, or reach a cure on this particular interlude into the abyss.

2005, the episodes of my life seem to drag on…ER too reached a predictable level of success.

The times had changed. Technology had definitely changed. The world in just a matter of a decade had significantly switched from an America going places, to an America going nowhere fast, unless it was with an Ipod, Iphone, Blackberry, or some other digital doo-hickey that I no longer can afford, in hand. Avarice is not my primary vice – but I do love being near the cutting edge or beta testing something... (Like a revolving-MRI or CT scan or other advanced medical tools and devices.)

As 2008-09 has seen its final season of ER, I am praying my crisis of head will not lead my heart and soul somewhere astray. I wish my learning about life wouldn’t have been so episodic – or that I would have marathoned ER several times when the chips got me down during my personal ER trials and tribulations.

I bid ER farewell.

Dr. Carter, I bid farewell. You made the show…come full circle.

Dr. Michael Crichton passed away before the last curtain fell. But he gave us a worthy body of work – writing plenty of interesting thrillers to go along with a TV medical drama that normally goes astray. Yours didn’t in 15 seasons.

So my grow up life has seen it’s last ER…

Cycles: The World Is Full of Them

I don’t think you have to be a rocket scientist or a Nobel Prize winner in Chemistry/Physics or Literature to know the world operates on natural cycles and human-created ebbs and flows.
We live by a clock that tells us - those that function on a routine - to get up and go out and change our planet. We watch the seasons for when to plant and when to feel better about ourselves. (Seasonal Affect Disorder…) We determined the cycle of the galaxy - ask our Mayan friends, oh yeah, we destroyed them - and wait on a big event that likely will come and go without a wimper…like the Millennium Bug.
We design our lives and livelihood around elections, stock market rises (and falls) and the next big thing in tech, entertainment or social discord. We pray every Sunday if we are faithful Christians; every Saturday if Jewish; and multiple times per day if Muslim. The larger cycles of weather (El Nino, the ocean currents, ice ages, et. al.) influence farming, living arrangements, and where we find ourselves in the future.
We just function on a cycle - ask any woman.
But the cycles created by other bipeds are the most annoying, for they, usually leave those without the resources and connections twisting in the wind hoping to catch a sail boat that will export them to safety and security land again.
We’ve seen this phenomenon with Globalization. The creative destruction of America - shipping off costly labor forces to cheaper lands in the SE Asia. This cycle is neither inherently good or bad - it just is. But the powers behind such a shift can be seen as promotely a timely shift in power from one arena to another…at the expense of Americans.
As Britain dominated the 19th century, and America the 20th, so shall China dominate the 21st. But this is all about empires - the rise and fall, the ebb and flow - and they too will see someone take over (or take back) their dominion.
Meanwhile, forces unseen, but often spoken about, will continue to contort the world to their cycle of power and supremacy. The cycle will go on - passively, like this post - but will be just as willing to punch the clock and do the time here.
Let me know when the rinse cycle is up on your washer. It’s time to dry ourselves out.

The New Media: The Printed Blog

As has been recently reported, the old print media has taken a beating. The Detroit Free Press, Christian Science Monitor, and several others have seen their business model of generating ad revenue from various sources dwindle (in part due to the current financial crisis) and from competition from the new media, the internet. While they suffer, close down home delivery services, and try to salvage their business through patchwork and quickie makeovers, a new business is cropping up: the blog-to-your-street, internet-savvy The Printed Blog.

This 1st generation of on-line publication to the local masses come from the mind of Joshua Karp, founder and publisher. Recently profiled in Wired, Joshua Karp asks the logical question: “Why hasn’t anyone tried to take the best content and bring it offline?”

Within that idea and framework, The Printed Blog hopes to take blogger-wanna-be-journalist types and utilize their content in local publications in a quick read format (a typical paper will be 11x17-inch on three pages, six sides in full color.) Their hope is to gather unique articles from people with expertise in various fields, writing ability, and a friendly voice to the man on the street while crossing the avenue to the social networking arena of Flickr, Twitter, Myspace, and Facebook.

One can see potential in a twice daily print of content gathered from online "beat" reporters. But one can also see the downsides as people can utilize searches and pick and choose content they prefer. But that should not stop The Printed Blog as it tests the business waters with their 'reverse print media' model.

People in a 24-hour world are looking for new, innovative and solid companions while they travel to work, school or actually vacation somewhere else. The Printed Blog hopes to gain traction in New York, Chicago (where they will debut January 27, 2009) and San Francisco. One can foresee 50, 100, or 1,000 various editions across the globe, with the only constraints being financing and the personnel to make it happen.

This blogger/author hopes to see The Printed Blog become 'The New' New York Times. But as with anything in business, the market will determine whether it succeeds, or fails.