Blogger blogger blogger, they made you out of clay
blogger blogger blogger, your ass is gonna pay!
QoG/SToF is moving to it's new name and location:
http://spiritintheglass.wordpress.com
Don't moan about lack of content: we're busy!
20081023
20081022
Really, also, this is finals week....and that finance class is horrid (i have a 60 - one measly point shy of an F walking into the final!!!). I should never attempt to take three classes at once.
The good news is that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel: I have submitted my enrollments for the last five classes that carry me through to graduation. Hooray!
The good news is that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel: I have submitted my enrollments for the last five classes that carry me through to graduation. Hooray!
20081021
20081014
Oh, Google.
Google assures me repeatedly that I can change my login ID by changing the email account associated with my gmail account and that all accounts associated with that gmail account (including this blog) will be moved accordingly.
People, they lie like big fat rugs.
Unless GOOGLE GOOGLE GOOGLE someone at GOOGLE wakes up and tells me why this didn't work (when I edited my email, it created a new blog and did not copy over my current configurations), I am going to be moving to WORDPRESS.
Google, google, whereforarththou Google? Do you care?
I think not.....
Google assures me repeatedly that I can change my login ID by changing the email account associated with my gmail account and that all accounts associated with that gmail account (including this blog) will be moved accordingly.
People, they lie like big fat rugs.
Unless GOOGLE GOOGLE GOOGLE someone at GOOGLE wakes up and tells me why this didn't work (when I edited my email, it created a new blog and did not copy over my current configurations), I am going to be moving to WORDPRESS.
Google, google, whereforarththou Google? Do you care?
I think not.....
20081012
I have only lately begun to fully embrace my redneck heritage.
When we moved into the house in Dalton, having lived in Atlanta (oh, 73 to 79, or thereabouts)and then in Simpsonville (while small, it was quaint and had a nearby horsing community to lend it some charm from 79 to 82 or 83), I remember standing in the driveway, looking at the house and driveway and being sad.
Well, we drove by it yesterday. I haven't seen the house since...1997? It's just as ugly as ever. All the privet bushes are gone, and someone poured a driveway beneath the back deck. It's still brown. It's still depressing to look at and an eyesore. It has no grass, although it got a new driveway and garage doors at some point. The cow pasture is still a cow pasture. It's still real rural. I still hate it.
Living in Dalton made me into a redneck, and lowered my I.Q. by at least twenty points the second a drop of tapwater passed my lips. Something about all those carpet fibers hitting the town's water supply on a daily basis collectively suppressed the town's ability to evolve beyond a fifties style mentality. I. So. Hated. It.
I learned how to hack up phleghm and spit it really far at the bus stop with the other red neck boys (self defense for ned girls with glasses). God help me, I learned to suffer silently through farts on the bus. I never fit in with these people, being someone who read science fiction (that was satan's tool, and not fit reading for young ladies). I also did not wear makeup, or dresses (on a regular basis), or (and this will shock those of you who know me now) a regular believer in grooming. I didn't understand that those things were important if you wanted to be accepted by other girls, I think. I was a regular PigPen, at times, because I could not be bothered to care what these people thought. If they were not going to like me *sniff*, I certainly would not like them.
That is always such a successful strategy for making friends.
My own idiocy blinded me to the real natural beauty of the area. Yesterday's miniature tour (I took a wrong turn on the way back from the fair, which I'll talk about at a later day) reminded me how pretty it was. There are some beautiful places up there, although I cannot live in such an isolated area.
I always thought I was better than everyone I knew there because I was born in Atlanta and no one in my family worked in a mill. I certainly made myself unhappy and I felt constantly isolated. Perhaps those people I looked down upon had all the advantages I denied myself - they had a sense of community and belonging.
I have all these dreams and aspirations, but when you come down to it, and I anything more than a jumped up redneck?
When we moved into the house in Dalton, having lived in Atlanta (oh, 73 to 79, or thereabouts)and then in Simpsonville (while small, it was quaint and had a nearby horsing community to lend it some charm from 79 to 82 or 83), I remember standing in the driveway, looking at the house and driveway and being sad.
Well, we drove by it yesterday. I haven't seen the house since...1997? It's just as ugly as ever. All the privet bushes are gone, and someone poured a driveway beneath the back deck. It's still brown. It's still depressing to look at and an eyesore. It has no grass, although it got a new driveway and garage doors at some point. The cow pasture is still a cow pasture. It's still real rural. I still hate it.
Living in Dalton made me into a redneck, and lowered my I.Q. by at least twenty points the second a drop of tapwater passed my lips. Something about all those carpet fibers hitting the town's water supply on a daily basis collectively suppressed the town's ability to evolve beyond a fifties style mentality. I. So. Hated. It.
I learned how to hack up phleghm and spit it really far at the bus stop with the other red neck boys (self defense for ned girls with glasses). God help me, I learned to suffer silently through farts on the bus. I never fit in with these people, being someone who read science fiction (that was satan's tool, and not fit reading for young ladies). I also did not wear makeup, or dresses (on a regular basis), or (and this will shock those of you who know me now) a regular believer in grooming. I didn't understand that those things were important if you wanted to be accepted by other girls, I think. I was a regular PigPen, at times, because I could not be bothered to care what these people thought. If they were not going to like me *sniff*, I certainly would not like them.
That is always such a successful strategy for making friends.
My own idiocy blinded me to the real natural beauty of the area. Yesterday's miniature tour (I took a wrong turn on the way back from the fair, which I'll talk about at a later day) reminded me how pretty it was. There are some beautiful places up there, although I cannot live in such an isolated area.
I always thought I was better than everyone I knew there because I was born in Atlanta and no one in my family worked in a mill. I certainly made myself unhappy and I felt constantly isolated. Perhaps those people I looked down upon had all the advantages I denied myself - they had a sense of community and belonging.
I have all these dreams and aspirations, but when you come down to it, and I anything more than a jumped up redneck?
20081010
I had all these ideas in my head the first time I made a trip abroad. Grand, romantic ideas about what being in another country would be like. Adventure – check. Bringing some snacks I could eat – check. Trying to blend in – check (well, as well as I can, at any rate). An element of mystery – check. Most importantly for me, I think I expect other countries to be capsules frozen in time. I expect them to have somehow escaped the modernization that daily erases American history. Face it – Americans have no interest in preserving history unless it generates a ROI. Imagine my dismay when I went to Europe and discovered that the landscape was not, in fact, dotted with castles and grazing sheep! Shocking!
To say I was bitterly disappointed in my first two or three trips abroad would be a wee bit of an understatement, until I realized that other people romanticize culture’s other than their own just as I do (explaining why Europeans and Asians flock here to shop and gamble and tour our landmarks…prior to this year, how many Americans – my own family excluded – do you know who spend quality time touring their own country?).
I first went to Washington, D.C. in seventh grade as part of one of those field trips you do with a school group. Call me cynical, but even at that age I was hardly impressed with the city. This would have been in 1985 or 1986, when the city was hardly the shining gem it is today. In fact, it was dirty, smelly, and I recall that it was FULL of panhandlers and shouting vagrants. Oh, and it rained the whole damn time, and since it was a budget trip we slept on the bus one night and ate the worst food possible (one meal was a dinner theater presentation of the “Sound of Music” at a dinner theater called, I shit you not, The Lazy Susan. Never, ever eat at a place where the words Lazy or Susan are mentioned in the title. Absolutely abysmal. Really.) And the city had a definite if not audible air of hostility. Complete contrast to the most recent trip, where it is clear that the city is enjoying a beautifully orchestrated Renaissance combined with a full on aura of polite paranoia (and in full parallel, our time at the Smithsonian was once again spent almost entirely around the Air and Space Museum, except this time we have cool photos, which I will post as soon as I can, and we spent SEVEN exact minutes in the Art Museum thanks for your diligence in counting, Security Folk, hope you enjoy your $12/hour).
People have some appalling manners. I would no more go to another country and disrespect someone’s history or a monument than I would pick my nose in a public place although there are some inhabitants of D.C. that I would happily wipe snot on. Now, I know I’m supposed to make some allowances for cultural differences, but can I tell you that I was horrified to visit the World War Two memorial and see it full of Indians with their feet in the reflecting pool. Or to see children hanging off the commemorative wreaths, and other children running in front of you when you are trying to take a photo, with the parents looking on in laughter without so much as looking your way to even offer an apology? Very few of the tourists we saw were, in fact, from America and the ones we did see were our age or older, and childless. As we toured Arlington on our way out, I remarked to Mr. Manners as we passed a much older and primarily male group of Germans (under my breath) that it was rather ironic that they chose to tour Arlington (given the particular area they were in, pebbles and all).
As an American woman who can trace her roots back to the first of her family to set foot upon this soil after leaving the British Isles, in many ways I’m proud of my country. I’m proud of America’s democratic history. I’m extraordinarily proud of the solidity of our Constitution and Bill of Rights (I think only the Magna Carta has withstood as many legal challenges throughout history). I’m proud of the fact that we have always been a nation that was willing to accept the world’s refugees, the world’s outcasts, the world’s runaways, victims, you name it, and has embraced them, given them an opportunity to succeed, and made them our own (oh, the populist flute just popped out, I swear it did). I’m proud of the fact that we have a great record as a charitable organization – we spread our collective wealth all over the world, helping people fight malaria, polio, HIV/AIDs, cancer, measles, etc. I’m proud of the fact that we stick up for the underdog, and yes, I’m proud of the fact that we are the police force for the globe (even though we don’t always, uh, judiciously apply our forces). I’m proud of the fact that ordinary Americans are willing to rally together in times of darkness to demand what is right. I’m proud of the citizenry of this country. We don’t make the decisions that represent us to the rest of the world, it’s true, but we make the decisions that keep the country moving on a day to day basis. We can’t tell the future, we don’t know if we’ll have jobs tomorrow, and every time we make a decision concerning our jobs, our houses, our insurance, our finances, it’s a bit of a gamble because all those decisions rely on outside forces, but you manage through those forces to the best decision you can (perhaps with your fingers crossed for a bit of luck). And really, you just don’t look too hard at the worst case scenario, because that leaves you with an ache in the bottom of your stomach and a deeply terrifying feeling that won’t go away.
Some of the people who are in charge of the stewardship of this country have made some incredibly poor decisions. Perhaps those decisions were motivated by greed. Perhaps those decisions were motivated by stupidity or it’s parasitic twin, ignorance. Those decisions have led us into a path now that cannot, despite all this talk of bailouts (spin aside, folks, it’s a bailout and it results in higher taxes…wouldn’t it be better if, as dad has suggested, the government just gave you and I that money rather than the banks? Wouldn’t that solve everyone’s problems by paying off all mortgages and credit card debts?), be undone. I’m starting to be ashamed, boys and girls, because look what so much power in the hands of a select few has managed to do to the world.
Power corrupts…and evidently cash does too….
To say I was bitterly disappointed in my first two or three trips abroad would be a wee bit of an understatement, until I realized that other people romanticize culture’s other than their own just as I do (explaining why Europeans and Asians flock here to shop and gamble and tour our landmarks…prior to this year, how many Americans – my own family excluded – do you know who spend quality time touring their own country?).
I first went to Washington, D.C. in seventh grade as part of one of those field trips you do with a school group. Call me cynical, but even at that age I was hardly impressed with the city. This would have been in 1985 or 1986, when the city was hardly the shining gem it is today. In fact, it was dirty, smelly, and I recall that it was FULL of panhandlers and shouting vagrants. Oh, and it rained the whole damn time, and since it was a budget trip we slept on the bus one night and ate the worst food possible (one meal was a dinner theater presentation of the “Sound of Music” at a dinner theater called, I shit you not, The Lazy Susan. Never, ever eat at a place where the words Lazy or Susan are mentioned in the title. Absolutely abysmal. Really.) And the city had a definite if not audible air of hostility. Complete contrast to the most recent trip, where it is clear that the city is enjoying a beautifully orchestrated Renaissance combined with a full on aura of polite paranoia (and in full parallel, our time at the Smithsonian was once again spent almost entirely around the Air and Space Museum, except this time we have cool photos, which I will post as soon as I can, and we spent SEVEN exact minutes in the Art Museum thanks for your diligence in counting, Security Folk, hope you enjoy your $12/hour).
People have some appalling manners. I would no more go to another country and disrespect someone’s history or a monument than I would pick my nose in a public place although there are some inhabitants of D.C. that I would happily wipe snot on. Now, I know I’m supposed to make some allowances for cultural differences, but can I tell you that I was horrified to visit the World War Two memorial and see it full of Indians with their feet in the reflecting pool. Or to see children hanging off the commemorative wreaths, and other children running in front of you when you are trying to take a photo, with the parents looking on in laughter without so much as looking your way to even offer an apology? Very few of the tourists we saw were, in fact, from America and the ones we did see were our age or older, and childless. As we toured Arlington on our way out, I remarked to Mr. Manners as we passed a much older and primarily male group of Germans (under my breath) that it was rather ironic that they chose to tour Arlington (given the particular area they were in, pebbles and all).
As an American woman who can trace her roots back to the first of her family to set foot upon this soil after leaving the British Isles, in many ways I’m proud of my country. I’m proud of America’s democratic history. I’m extraordinarily proud of the solidity of our Constitution and Bill of Rights (I think only the Magna Carta has withstood as many legal challenges throughout history). I’m proud of the fact that we have always been a nation that was willing to accept the world’s refugees, the world’s outcasts, the world’s runaways, victims, you name it, and has embraced them, given them an opportunity to succeed, and made them our own (oh, the populist flute just popped out, I swear it did). I’m proud of the fact that we have a great record as a charitable organization – we spread our collective wealth all over the world, helping people fight malaria, polio, HIV/AIDs, cancer, measles, etc. I’m proud of the fact that we stick up for the underdog, and yes, I’m proud of the fact that we are the police force for the globe (even though we don’t always, uh, judiciously apply our forces). I’m proud of the fact that ordinary Americans are willing to rally together in times of darkness to demand what is right. I’m proud of the citizenry of this country. We don’t make the decisions that represent us to the rest of the world, it’s true, but we make the decisions that keep the country moving on a day to day basis. We can’t tell the future, we don’t know if we’ll have jobs tomorrow, and every time we make a decision concerning our jobs, our houses, our insurance, our finances, it’s a bit of a gamble because all those decisions rely on outside forces, but you manage through those forces to the best decision you can (perhaps with your fingers crossed for a bit of luck). And really, you just don’t look too hard at the worst case scenario, because that leaves you with an ache in the bottom of your stomach and a deeply terrifying feeling that won’t go away.
Some of the people who are in charge of the stewardship of this country have made some incredibly poor decisions. Perhaps those decisions were motivated by greed. Perhaps those decisions were motivated by stupidity or it’s parasitic twin, ignorance. Those decisions have led us into a path now that cannot, despite all this talk of bailouts (spin aside, folks, it’s a bailout and it results in higher taxes…wouldn’t it be better if, as dad has suggested, the government just gave you and I that money rather than the banks? Wouldn’t that solve everyone’s problems by paying off all mortgages and credit card debts?), be undone. I’m starting to be ashamed, boys and girls, because look what so much power in the hands of a select few has managed to do to the world.
Power corrupts…and evidently cash does too….
20081009
On an absolutely unrelated note...
I was reading about the new "Atlanta Housewives" in the Atlanta Constipation Urinal the other day. Yet again I am reminded that we are consistently last in education....
Anyway, looking at the pictures of those women, who are all *about* my age...I thought:
Damn, I look good for my age.
Ha ha (what's the name of the bully on the Simpson's who goes ha ha all the time?...yeah, say it that way)
I was reading about the new "Atlanta Housewives" in the Atlanta Constipation Urinal the other day. Yet again I am reminded that we are consistently last in education....
Anyway, looking at the pictures of those women, who are all *about* my age...I thought:
Damn, I look good for my age.
Ha ha (what's the name of the bully on the Simpson's who goes ha ha all the time?...yeah, say it that way)
It can't be all that bad, can it?
The crash of '29 saw a rash of suicides among investors and bankers and you haven't seen one single story about an investor or a banker taking his/her own life.
No, instead you see sad stories about people killing their entire families, or that 90 year old woman who tried to shoot herself in the home she was about to lose. You see stories about regular people who have nothing left to lose except their lives, which they chose to take rather than go on and have society view them as a failure.
And the people who contributed to the ruin of those lives?
The crash of '29 saw a rash of suicides among investors and bankers and you haven't seen one single story about an investor or a banker taking his/her own life.
No, instead you see sad stories about people killing their entire families, or that 90 year old woman who tried to shoot herself in the home she was about to lose. You see stories about regular people who have nothing left to lose except their lives, which they chose to take rather than go on and have society view them as a failure.
And the people who contributed to the ruin of those lives?
20081008
Mr. Manners pointed out to me bright and early yesterday morning that I'd soy sauce on both boobs of my jacket. Great. So I spent the day with my jacket pulled across myself, straight jacket style, all day at work. Fanfuckingtastic.
The financial world continues it's implosion with great abandon. While we've been THE SKY IS FALLING THE SKY IS FALLING the rest of the world has been quietly addressing their own issues (Germany arranging bank loans for it's second largest mortgage lender, the U.K. bailing out a bank or two, Ireland, Spain, several banks in Asia, Austraila, etc.). The world is not (as much as the rest of you would like to pretend) entirely immune from financial woes. And not, I think, because you are dependent upon the dollar. Those countries were also known for nuttily inflated property values as well (c'mon...a 950 square foot toilet in Paris is not worth one million euros....and I don't give a shit, if you'll pardon the pun, if it IS in Paris!). So something of this sort was bound to happen eventually.
The question remains....how bad will this become?
Will we all lose our jobs? Will there be rampant unemployment? I don't mean seventies style unemployment, with gas lines, increases in welfare, food stamps, and public assistance....and it isn't like Atlanta itself isn't already eerily facing signs of some of the same fiscal woes it faced then. I remember being a child when Atlanta couldn't pay some of it's bills, and the city would turn off alternating lights on the highway to save money. Or gas lines...remember gas lines? Georgia is going to be short on revenue (if we are closing state parks, we don't have any money).
A small part of me (let's call this the doomsday scenario) wonders if when this all shakes out there will continue to be a middle class. We are, after all, a class that only came to be with the spawning of the industrial age - the birth of the machine gave rise to the concept of leisure time. Without leisure time, there is no middle class - we all become laborers. If white collar jobs become incredibly scarce because regulation becomes very restrictive in banking, investing, insurance, mortgages and healthcare (some of the primary employers in the United States), where will the jobs then be found for these displaced workers? Will Americans become global workers or will they remain here?
If they remain here, will we be plunged into economic chaos (where oranges for Christmas are once again a treat?)?
I don't have much confidence in the people we have elected to be our leaders. I do not have any confidence in the traders and investors who so much as fart and drop my 401K's value by 25% in a given second. I have even less faith in those purportedly highly educated, highly paid pundits, analysts and talking heads that provide the voice of America today. I think they've gotten it all wrong as they attempt to steer us through the darkness.
But history is what makes fools of us all.
The financial world continues it's implosion with great abandon. While we've been THE SKY IS FALLING THE SKY IS FALLING the rest of the world has been quietly addressing their own issues (Germany arranging bank loans for it's second largest mortgage lender, the U.K. bailing out a bank or two, Ireland, Spain, several banks in Asia, Austraila, etc.). The world is not (as much as the rest of you would like to pretend) entirely immune from financial woes. And not, I think, because you are dependent upon the dollar. Those countries were also known for nuttily inflated property values as well (c'mon...a 950 square foot toilet in Paris is not worth one million euros....and I don't give a shit, if you'll pardon the pun, if it IS in Paris!). So something of this sort was bound to happen eventually.
The question remains....how bad will this become?
Will we all lose our jobs? Will there be rampant unemployment? I don't mean seventies style unemployment, with gas lines, increases in welfare, food stamps, and public assistance....and it isn't like Atlanta itself isn't already eerily facing signs of some of the same fiscal woes it faced then. I remember being a child when Atlanta couldn't pay some of it's bills, and the city would turn off alternating lights on the highway to save money. Or gas lines...remember gas lines? Georgia is going to be short on revenue (if we are closing state parks, we don't have any money).
A small part of me (let's call this the doomsday scenario) wonders if when this all shakes out there will continue to be a middle class. We are, after all, a class that only came to be with the spawning of the industrial age - the birth of the machine gave rise to the concept of leisure time. Without leisure time, there is no middle class - we all become laborers. If white collar jobs become incredibly scarce because regulation becomes very restrictive in banking, investing, insurance, mortgages and healthcare (some of the primary employers in the United States), where will the jobs then be found for these displaced workers? Will Americans become global workers or will they remain here?
If they remain here, will we be plunged into economic chaos (where oranges for Christmas are once again a treat?)?
I don't have much confidence in the people we have elected to be our leaders. I do not have any confidence in the traders and investors who so much as fart and drop my 401K's value by 25% in a given second. I have even less faith in those purportedly highly educated, highly paid pundits, analysts and talking heads that provide the voice of America today. I think they've gotten it all wrong as they attempt to steer us through the darkness.
But history is what makes fools of us all.
20081003
Fascinating, this whole Wachovia-WellsFargo-Citigroup deal!
Who do you suppose is the bigger shark, Citigroup or WellsFargo?
And in other news, it seems California might want to tap the Feds for a $7 billion dollar loan. Doesn't California have a seemingly disproportionate number of millionaires? Can't they do one of those little starving actor fundraisers and pay for it themselves? Piss off, and go stand in the back of the line.
Steve Fossett was a bit of a daredevil and it seems he died doing what he loved best. It might have been better if we'd never discovered what had become of him. I think he might have liked to remain shrouded in history's mystery.
Here in sunny Roswell, it is a pleasant 62 degrees outside, and 61 degrees inside my house. I'm wearing two sweaters and standing in the kitchen, working.
Happy Friday!
Who do you suppose is the bigger shark, Citigroup or WellsFargo?
And in other news, it seems California might want to tap the Feds for a $7 billion dollar loan. Doesn't California have a seemingly disproportionate number of millionaires? Can't they do one of those little starving actor fundraisers and pay for it themselves? Piss off, and go stand in the back of the line.
Steve Fossett was a bit of a daredevil and it seems he died doing what he loved best. It might have been better if we'd never discovered what had become of him. I think he might have liked to remain shrouded in history's mystery.
Here in sunny Roswell, it is a pleasant 62 degrees outside, and 61 degrees inside my house. I'm wearing two sweaters and standing in the kitchen, working.
Happy Friday!
20081001
Wall Street of Shame
Otherwise known as: 2007's List of Executive Failures, 8 Men Who Aided in The Collapse of The Economy, or 8 CEO's Who Should Never Get Another Job in Corporate America (Would You Like Fries with That?)
Stanley O'Neal, leader of Merrill Lynch, 2007 pay packet including options and retirement perks: $160,000,000.00.
Angelo Mozilo, leader of Countrywide Mortgage (previously a very large employer in the Atlanta area, I believe), pay packet in 2007 worth $121,500,000.00.
Richard Fuld, Lehman Brothers, 2007 estimated earnings of $40,000,000.00. Why estimated and not disclosed? It is the end of 2008; has someone not filed their taxes? My my!
James Cayne, Bear Sterns, 2007 earnings $160,000,000.00.
Oh holy jeez, I'm about to have a stroke:
Richard Syron, Freddie Mac, Mr. Na Na I'm Not Listening To You Because I'm Dreaming of Rolling Around Naked With Blond Russian Twins with my pay package of $14,000,000.00. Oh yeah...SUCKERS!
Daniel Mudd, Fannie Mae, 2007, $13,000,000.00.
Kennedy Thompson, Wachovia (the bank I am about to leave. This is how I reward lack of accountability; I'm a consumer, and you are my bank. You are a poor performer, and sold my account to a competitor of my employer. Therefore, I am closing my account. Have a nice day!). 2007 earnings package? $21,000,000.00 Ah, those daily fees on top of overdraft fees really add up, don't they?
Kerry Killinger, WaMu, $14,400,000.00.
Source.
How disappointed are you to realize that these are the people whose lifestyles and bad decisions you are being asked to support? The media plays down the impact of this entire situation by using what I refer to as financial shorthand; it looks far more frightening with all those zeros, doesn't it?
Every single one of those companies has failed, or will fail soon. All those leaders have either been ousted, or have sought federal aid to rescue their failed companies, but I can promise you all of them still continue to draw a paycheck and enjoying their perks, while laying off workers, and looking for new ways to screw consumers out of their money. I'm not sorry. I hope they go to jail. And I hope every one of the gentlemen above (isn't that generous) enjoys having "failed CEO" on their resume.
Stanley O'Neal, leader of Merrill Lynch, 2007 pay packet including options and retirement perks: $160,000,000.00.
Angelo Mozilo, leader of Countrywide Mortgage (previously a very large employer in the Atlanta area, I believe), pay packet in 2007 worth $121,500,000.00.
Richard Fuld, Lehman Brothers, 2007 estimated earnings of $40,000,000.00. Why estimated and not disclosed? It is the end of 2008; has someone not filed their taxes? My my!
James Cayne, Bear Sterns, 2007 earnings $160,000,000.00.
Oh holy jeez, I'm about to have a stroke:
Richard Syron, Freddie Mac, Mr. Na Na I'm Not Listening To You Because I'm Dreaming of Rolling Around Naked With Blond Russian Twins with my pay package of $14,000,000.00. Oh yeah...SUCKERS!
Daniel Mudd, Fannie Mae, 2007, $13,000,000.00.
Kennedy Thompson, Wachovia (the bank I am about to leave. This is how I reward lack of accountability; I'm a consumer, and you are my bank. You are a poor performer, and sold my account to a competitor of my employer. Therefore, I am closing my account. Have a nice day!). 2007 earnings package? $21,000,000.00 Ah, those daily fees on top of overdraft fees really add up, don't they?
Kerry Killinger, WaMu, $14,400,000.00.
Source.
How disappointed are you to realize that these are the people whose lifestyles and bad decisions you are being asked to support? The media plays down the impact of this entire situation by using what I refer to as financial shorthand; it looks far more frightening with all those zeros, doesn't it?
Every single one of those companies has failed, or will fail soon. All those leaders have either been ousted, or have sought federal aid to rescue their failed companies, but I can promise you all of them still continue to draw a paycheck and enjoying their perks, while laying off workers, and looking for new ways to screw consumers out of their money. I'm not sorry. I hope they go to jail. And I hope every one of the gentlemen above (isn't that generous) enjoys having "failed CEO" on their resume.
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