"Heckuvajobthere, Brownie"

OK, now I get it. Our lame duck fearless leader just made another pronouncement of agreement like the above. It was on the news today:

'In pledging similar assistance, President Bush said, “We have made these kind of decisions in the past, made one last night, and if need be we’re going to make these kind of decisions to safeguard our financial system in the future.”'

If you substitute "my rich friends" or "my cuhn-STITCH-unts" for "our financial system" in there, you have the answer to the nagging questions behind the behavior of Hank Paulson.

First, there will be no money to the companies that employ blue collar workers who have used up all their savings to try and hold on to their home (their one possession of personal value), who have watched their retirement savings go up in smoke and are told (regarding saving Social Security) "There's no problem, you'll just work until you're 75. By the way, your company just closed in the U.S. and moved to ________." Fill in the blank yourselves.

Second,there will be all the money necessary given to financial institutions to allow white and gold collar workers to keep their "holdings", regardless of the fact that they got themselves into this by manipulating the rules of capitalism. Apparently Lehman Brothers weren't behaving like good little Nazis with their behavior toward the current administration. Lost their "cuhn-STITCH-unt" standing.

The portrayal of GDub as a lame duck though, is wrong. He's systematically shredding what few rules remain for the protection of the middle class as he leaves office. Oh, and getting some free trips to foreign countries where he can sit among his rich buddies and smoke Cuban cigars legally.

Yes, I fear for our country's future.

How Did We Get Here?

I wasn't watching press conferences while GDub was in office. They were like scenes of automobile accidents I have driven past so I didn't look; the possible sounds and sights seemed too ugly to contemplate, so I looked away. But at some point during that time period, we went from "I feel your pain" when it wasn't a cruel joke, to asking and answering our own questions. This completely eliminated any possibility that a public persona might have to hear what he was actually saying, and eliminated the chance that any of his colleagues might say in response, "Hey! Are listening to yourself? Do you know what you just said?" No other or further questions are allowed, and the answer has been given. It also eliminated that nasty little split second in time that often rightly occurred in the third grade. That tiny flash of self doubt that creeps in just after shouting, "Me, me, me teacher! I know the answer!" and the moment the teacher points at you, and says your name out loud in front of the whole class. The speaker makes up the question, frames it his way and immediately answers it, defusing the entire exchange.

Q: "Could we have done things better?" A: "You bet... ... ..." (Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld - many times) This is usually followed by a few short sentences infused with reasons/excuses why it could not have been done better. Since no one else in the room has done any fact-checking, the discussion ends.

I'd like to think, as the financial bail out is played out, and TARP covers all, we will be hearing the last of this, but a prime example popped up in the Washington Post article yesterday to vex me. Scott M. Polakoff, Deputy Senior Director of the increasingly poorly named Office of Thrift Supervision is quoted:

"Are banks going to fail when events occur well beyond the confines of reasonable expectation or modeling? The answer is yes," he said in an interview. Asked and answered; sort of.

Notice how he ended all discussion by appearing to acquiesce to the low opinion of his job performance held by his inquisitors. In reality, he slipped in the "events occur well beyond the confines of reasonable expectations" phrase. Is he listening to himself? Does he know what he just said? His job is make certain that someone is watching over these people so that those same "events" do not occur. So I'm assuming that he is saying, "You are paying me to attempt a job that I know can't be done. I'll take the big salary, but I can't earn it."

To end this screed, I'll just ask, "Can an Obama administration stop this practice?"

I'll let them answer.

It's over! Hurray for our side!

However you voted, whatever your preferences are, you have to admit, summer and the election is finally over. I'm happy with the outcome, prefer cool weather and feel disgustingly optimistic (for me). I am enjoying the President-Elect's Change.gov web spot, where I can find out stuff about the transition and policy plans. It's something new (for me) to see a politician's promises in writing - and before he gets into office! Amazing. I am now not only a news junkie, but a policy wonk wannabe. The fact that a neighboring rural town has elected the first (known) transgender person (as they so delicately put it) as it's mayor has just been icing on the cake for me. It's as if they voted "Ed Wood" into office, and he's just as cool. It has made me rethink my attitude toward all my neighbors. There must be more than a few closet liberals around here. At the very least, they can look at the candidate's positions and not just the candidate's hair style.
Winter is settling in here with it's frozen fog and milky white skies. Most of the leaves are gone, the Canada Goose flocks have passed overhead and the crows have taken over town. They are a large, raucus and if you are small enough, a dangerous bunch. I watched them harass a gray squirrel attempting to pass over HWY 214 and the town using the telephone lines. The squirrel was almost pecked off several times as it attempted the four block high-wire act. There is a reason that its called "a murder of crows"; keep your Chihuahuas inside.
There is a small, quiet but earnest war going on in Mt. Angel between the Glockenspiel's caretakers, the Edelweiss Building's owners & operators and the local pigeons. With each attack they launch against the pigeons, the pigeons gain intelligence. The pigeons operate much like the true guerillas they are. There is a reason that they are called "feathered rats" in New York city. Now, with the installations of the automatically opening and closing doors on the Glockenspiel clock, the pigeons have learned to tell time, and have gained the patience of Buddhist monks. Their skirmishes with the fourth floor, rent-paying residents of Edelweiss are the stuff of legend. No amount of flags ("we salute 'em" they chirp) or scarecrows ("Them's good eatin'!") can deter the birds from using the random balcony as a rest area and up-scale alternative to Mt. Angel's many bell-towers and, of course, Pigeon Central, the hulking, gun-metal gray granary. As a mid-floor, rent-paying resident, I have not received any fall-out from this war, so I can afford to take a bemused attitude.