A survey asked me earlier this week if I thought the country was headed in the right direction. I gave the same answer I’ve given the last two years:
This has little to do with the Obama presidency, just as it had little to do with the Bush presidency. (I liked very little about the Bush presidency, but he was a symptom, not the problem.) Congress carries more of the blame than either executive, but they are also symptomatic of the greater failure.
As Pogo once said, we have met the enemy, and he is us.
A day can’t pass in this country without hearing what a God-fearing, compassionate people Americans are, especially this time of year. Champions of the underdog, defender of the less fortunate.
If we’re such champions of the underdog, why are the New York Yankees so popular, even with people who can’t find New York on a map? The One True God is Money, and Its religion is Capitalism. This is where the true believers congregate.
The problem with American Capitalism is you have to pay to play, and not playing is not an option. (With rare exceptions.) You have a choice of doing what you have to do to get to the top of the hierarchy, or you take your chances while those who do want to get to the top use everyone else as chess pieces.
A good friend of mine got the word he’s been laid off. The effective date is December 25, 2009. Merry fucking Christmas.
I’m sure there are sound economic and accounting reasons for this date. Christmas is a Friday, and probably ends the last pay period in the quarter, possibly the fiscal year. Still, Even Scrooge gave Bob Cratchit the day off; he didn’t fire his ass.
It’s not like Verizon is going under, or losing money; they’re just not making it as fast as management told the stockholders they would. Sales are flat—probably because so many people who might use their wireless service are already laid off—so they’re cutting expenses, creating even more unemployment. They knew when they bought Alltel these people were going to be riffed; this happened to be the optimal time to pull the trigger.
Somewhere in the great bureaucracy of Verizon is a single individual who signed off on this. Die, motherfucker; we’ll get over it. Last night I wanted him to suffer first, but, rested and viewing events in the light of a new day, I’m willing to let him stroke out, on one condition. He should remain lucid long enough to recognize himself for the money-worshipping son of a bitch he is, and know he will not be missed.
The problem is, there will be a hundred others climbing over each other to take his place.