Somehow, this simple explanation of why anyone with any sense is terrified of their financial future if they are not in the top 1 percent of the nation's wealthy has fallen off the top of the leader board and is ranked on HuffPost by the sad tale of Roman Polanski's arrest and pending extradition to the US for having sex with a minor 32 years ago. In the face of the recent spate of the Charles Manson family reunion tour, I gotta say, we are a vapid, moronic race, us human beings. Shovel-ready jobs? Shit. Normally, even in recessions, the delta (MBA talk for difference...drop it in conversation with the boss and then argue for a raise once things get a lot better) is really small, and based largely on location of talent and incorrect allocation of talent. I need computer programmers, but they're in New England and I'm in Arkansas; I need welders, but I'm in New England, and they're in Idaho. Or, I need engineers and welders and computer programmers, but I'm in New England and everybody who comes to see me has a degree in Etruscan studies or something. Some realignment, and whee...jobless rates go down.
Not happening this time; and that's worth some consideration. The work is not there; until someone starts buying stuff, the work will not be there. Until someone starts making stuff, the work of stocking and selling stuff is not going to be there. At some point, there has to be tangible increase in economic value, or as my old man explained to me when I was a young, inexperienced and optimistic sort, "nothing happens until somebody does some goddamn thing!"
Well, we have one political party that is intent on not doing a goddamn thing that Cotton Mather and Alexander Hamilton wouldn't have been on board for, and one that seems to be soul-less, rudderless and directionless. I kinda like Nancy Pelosi, but nobody is going to mistake her for Tip O'Neil or Sam Rayburn. Harry Reid is not Lyndon Johnson. Barrack Obama needs a Bobby Kennedy, somebody with a fucking conscious conscience. Instead, his enforcer turns out to be gutless. Just because you can swear doesn't make you tough. As the great Gilbert Roland says frequently in Bandido, "Aye, Chihuahua!"
Note: The AXE just spent a week on his back recovering from a bout of Walking Pneumonia. Every where I turn, people are sick. The flu season isn't usually at this point for months -- maybe Tiffany is going to cull the herd this year. We can make up the job delta (Jobs needed-jobs available) by reduction in job seekers while increasing the number of people involved in burying the dead.
Speaking of Cotton Mather --
Not happening this time; and that's worth some consideration. The work is not there; until someone starts buying stuff, the work will not be there. Until someone starts making stuff, the work of stocking and selling stuff is not going to be there. At some point, there has to be tangible increase in economic value, or as my old man explained to me when I was a young, inexperienced and optimistic sort, "nothing happens until somebody does some goddamn thing!"
Well, we have one political party that is intent on not doing a goddamn thing that Cotton Mather and Alexander Hamilton wouldn't have been on board for, and one that seems to be soul-less, rudderless and directionless. I kinda like Nancy Pelosi, but nobody is going to mistake her for Tip O'Neil or Sam Rayburn. Harry Reid is not Lyndon Johnson. Barrack Obama needs a Bobby Kennedy, somebody with a fucking conscious conscience. Instead, his enforcer turns out to be gutless. Just because you can swear doesn't make you tough. As the great Gilbert Roland says frequently in Bandido, "Aye, Chihuahua!"
Note: The AXE just spent a week on his back recovering from a bout of Walking Pneumonia. Every where I turn, people are sick. The flu season isn't usually at this point for months -- maybe Tiffany is going to cull the herd this year. We can make up the job delta (Jobs needed-jobs available) by reduction in job seekers while increasing the number of people involved in burying the dead.
Speaking of Cotton Mather --
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