The Real Bonus Question.

President Obama (and the rest of the circus performers in Washington) are calling for blood (or taxes) in the AIG bonus scandal. I understand the civil unrest and utter disgust at the prospects of those who failed, reaping the benefits that are so obviously undeserved. It is especially disconcerting when the checks are written on the backs of tax payer dollars. Money that was honestly earned, by folks (a lot of whom are really hurting financially) preforming their civic duty: Paying taxes for the betterment of the nation.

There is no question regarding the legitimacy (or lack thereof) of these checks. It was never in the best interest of the U.S. to subsidize bonus checks to CEOs and VPs. Then again, it was never in the best interest of country for the government to buy out the banks, the auto industry, and anyone else seemingly "too big to fail". However, this is the current state of our "more perfect union". The government has suddenly become all encompassing and involved in nearly every aspect of our daily lives. Due to the fact that "Big Brother" has his hand in nearly everything, corporations have to adjust their ways.

The moment they asked for government intervention, and readily accepted it, their MOs should have changed. Unfortunately, the learning curve is exactly that, a learning curve. CEOs are not accustomed to answering to anyone. Now it seems they have to answer to everyone. Talk about a seismic shift in the way they have previously conducted business. The new normal for the execs. at AIG and the likes is anything but business as usual. The adjustments into daily due diligence in corporate America does not excuse gross negligence associated with these bonus checks. Nor does it change the underlying fact, that these checks are bogus.

But, there is something larger going on here. Once again, everyone seems to be caught up in the minutia of the real issue. These checks account for less than one percent of the rescue package that AIG received. It is almost comical to me that there is such public outcry over the one percent; without a single inquiry regarding the other ninety-nine percent. Alas, the angry mob of American citizens are desperately looking for a scapegoat. Surely, someone is to blame for the economic collapse, corruption and greed. Insert CEO's and corporate fat cats. Everyone hates the uber rich guy.

The executives at AIG are an ideal target. Is it deserved? Perhaps. Probably. The real issue is not about the inevitable acceptance of remittance for a job ghastly done. Instead of questioning the funds allocated for the bonus checks, perhaps the real point in question should surround the other $169,835,000,000. After all, in the grand scheme of golden parachutes and bailout rescue packages, the bonus checks are merely pocket change. In the end, the dollar amount ascribed to those select few at AIG is rather obsolete. It is however, a symbolic message regarding the corporate greed that plagues today's society. I only wish one of those checks would miraculously fall into my pocket.

Perchance, the most interesting and dissuading aspect of this entire episode is not the bequeathing of undeserved bounties, but rather the reaction of the Washington bureaucrat. Namely, the retort dispatched by our commander in chief. Once again, PBO resorts to his favorite solution, one of extreme taxation. Yes, these checks are a joke. But, the thought of retroactive taxation laws created on a whim are anything but funny. It is downright scary.

Civil unrest should, instead, be directed towards the very idea of changing the tax codes to pacify the masses "in this one instance". Because, this one instance will likely become common practice. A common practice that will affect not only those "jerks" at AIG, but every Dick and Jane from sea to shining sea.

In the art world, the avant garde is referred to as the forerunner and the revealer. Is the AIG special tax regulation simply the forerunner and the revealer into the fate of the American taxpayer? I beseech those in Washington to take notice. What was once striking and strange (the avant garde) quickly becomes the status quo.

While I would find great pleasure going "Ram Jam style" (leg drops and head locks) on our president, his policies, and the execs. at AIG, it just wouldn't be prudent. The secret service would have my cute little bubble butt in a figure four faster than I can say stimulus package. Someone has to pose these questions to our great leader. I know it won't be the elite media. The question is: Who is willing to stand up and actually stand for what our founding fathers fought so tirelessly for? Until that date, the status quo of government procedure will become more and more disenfranchised from the very ideals that are the foundation so brilliantly laid out by those with a vision larger than themselves. Where is Thomas Jefferson when you need him?

Ironic Coincidence... I Think... Perhaps.

I may have spoken too soon. Yesterday, I spoke with adulation and praise for FP JR, and I meant it. However, this was before I went to the gas station. This was before I met the man of my dreams, while filling my white soccer mama car with premium gasoline. This was before I completely humiliated myself twice... in his presence. This is before I learned that I may be destined to become a rhinestone cow girl. Be still my beating heart. Back off ladies,this guy is mine. I have a gigantic crush on a cowboy named Shane. AAAAAHHHH! He is soooo dreamy. I feel like a tween who has just been swept off her feet and into into Twilight's Edward's arms, or the Jonas Brothers groupie van or Zac Efron's existence. Shane, if you are somehow reading this... I love you and definitely want to have at least seventeen of your babies. You interested? I am.


On another note: FP JR hates the picture I posted of him in yesterday's monologue. He thinks he looks to be a little light in the loafers. I told him I had not fixed it in photoshop yet... and that I would do that, eventually. I don't know what he dislikes more... the photo that I posted or the fact that I (occasionally) photoshop his mug. Relax, Kiddo. I only have eyes for you. (and Shane, the dreamboat cowboy)

Off to bask in the ever flattering sunlight of a teenage crush. I promise I will fill you in on the entire event's unfolding at a later date. For now, I will dream of life in the country with my cowboy, Shane... the epitome of all Malboro men. More accurately, the epitome of all men in a MaryKate world.

Sap

Due to the fact that Glen Beck openly cried on live television today, I felt compelled see his sap and raise him one. Cue romantic ballad... possibly something by Whitney Houston or the likes... that or Chariots of Fire. Because here is the part of the day where I ponder the thought that there was once a time in my life where I was not attached at the hip to freddie prince jr. What did i do? Who did I bother? What did i think about? In the beginning, I completely intended to remain a strong, independant woman... and probably break your heart. So much for my intentions. I am spellbound by your every move. I am a puddle. You are my world.

Here is the orig. photo... SOOC.


I have decided to enter the I heart faces weekly contest. This is my submission. I took this picture last week on vacation in Red Hook, St. Thomas USVI. I do not know this little girl's name, but she was absolutely adorable. Here's to my newest obsession... and hope I finish well.

La Vie En Rose: Its Above My Pay Grade.

Obama is six weeks in. Only 202 left in his administration. Hooray! I used to pass by this handmade yard sign every day on my way to art school that said, "Can't Hardly Wait Till 2008". Honestly, it bugged me. In all actuality, it made my nostrils flare... that's ugly. Even on my pretty little face. I hate to admit that I have a mental paper chain in my frontal lobe, counting down the weeks until we go to the polls again; but I sort of do. I really don't want to be like the "hater" that had that yard sign, but this guy is single handily changing the coordinates on my personal financial course in history. And, for the record, I don't like this road map. It seems we are lost. Whoops! We made a wrong left turn about six months ago. If a doctor screws up your medical procedures, you can sue them for medical malpractice. I claim medical malpractice... or economic malpractice. Can one sue for economic malpractice? This may be something I should look into...

It has become increasingly apparent that our "Great Leader" would rather disassemble a way of life that has to date, proven to be the most successful model of self reliance and hard work, in lieu of systems confirmed to be futile in other societies. Ostensibly, the rhetoric deeming the fortuitous evil and greedy won him the election. It also has decimated an economy faster than Chicken Little can tell you that the sky is falling. Truly, this election will prove to have been historic. A blunder in history that will make the Carter administration look like a winning endeavor. But, I assure you, it is someone else's fault. Welcome to ObamaNation. What an abomination. Pay your taxes here, please.

Meanwhile, while the stock market continues to plummet, his wife and family will grace the cover of People, Time, Newsweek, and USWeekly, smiling and posing in the East Room, the Lincoln Bedroom, Camp David and the Rose Garden. Move over Brad and Angie, your brood is no longer the most fashionable and sought after media darlings... insert Michelle, Sasha, Malia and the Messiah. While they are being photographed by Slim Aarons and Annie Liebowitz, PBO will continue to kill the economy with a photogenic smile, and a tax hike for the rich. His smile so brilliant it will blind the media's watchful eye... leaving them awestruck; too enamored to ask the tough questions that deserve answers. Softballs are his specialty.

I saw an interview last week where the interviewer (I forget who... but it was someone from MSNBC) basically said... the economy is so front and center in the news these days, and folks are probably sick and tired about hearing all of the economic doom and gloom... what is the best perk about living in the white house? Are you kidding me? This is what you choose to ask? You call yourself a responsible journalist? This is like asking Mr. Lincoln besides the obvious; how did you enjoy the play? Aaah, but he looked great in the photo shoot, didn't he? Hollywood could not write a better script. Camelot part deux. A tinsel town set, seemingly believable, but with little substance. This is our presidency. Pay your taxes here, please.

His face will replace Mickey Mouse on wrist watches. (shared a cab with a lady sporting one last week) You can even purchase a commemorative plate emblazoned with his portrait. Next thing you know, the Department of Treasury will create a $3 bill adorned with his kisser. Seriously, this guy is amazing. The leaders of Heavens Gate could have taken a lesson from his book. Adulation and praise for PBO the entire ride to a bankrupt nation. I might be the only one who didn't get roofied at the party? Because, I don't buy it. Cheerleading has taken on a whole new meaning, and he is our national football hero. For the moment he is basking in the glory. Situating himself in the always favorable limelight, like a lizard sunning himself in the Galapagos. Isn't it slightly hypocritical and callous for those in the Obama camp to be so outwardly celebratory in their almost daily soirees, dancing through life, while people are losing their life savings. Are we not in the middle of a major recession? How about a little discretion. How is it that the president gets a pass, while banks and businesses are given the third degree? It seems a little pompous and artificial. But wait, Pay your taxes here, please.

All the while, while "We the people" (some of the people) are viewing his every move through rose colored glasses; Iran has seen President Obama's biceps and has flexed their own...nuclear arms. I know that "you can't hug with nuclear arms" (great bumper sticker) but you sure can change the global landscape with just one. Luckily, PBO is willing to sit down and chat with that crazy nut job whose name I cannot spell... and I don't care to google. Phew. Our national fears have been quelled, diplomacy with nut jobs is the new black. (which was last year's pink) I need a glass of wine and a paxil. I sure hope that every one's rose colored glasses have transition lenses. Perhaps when they finally come out of the historic fog, everyone will once again see clearly. Didn't think I forgot about you... Pay your taxes here, please.

I am at a loss...I guess the whole thing is above my pay grade.

Open Letter.

Dear President Obama,
Recently you compared the stock market's daily fluctuations to a tracking poll in politics. Interesting. Enlightening. I am afraid that I am going to have to call Bullsh*t on you, sir. You see, the so called tracking poll you are referring to is actually the most accurate representation of our economy... and "We The People's" 401k's, children's college education funds, and life savings. Your remarks are disheartening to the typical American investor. You see, it is quite apparent that your grasp on economic fundamentals are at best filled with vast gaps and vacuous black holes. You speak of government bank buyouts, and in the same breath, encourage us to place our earnings into the market; suggesting that we buy up shares of Citibank, and the likes. Even a simple Yankee girl like myself understands that if the government owns the banks, the stocks will be valued at zero. The last time I attended a math class, zero meant nothing... I don't think this has since changed. Wouldn't this produce virtually the same result as taking a match to crisp Benjamin's and watching it burn without the excitement of the possibility of burning one's fingers?

With all of your broad and inflated promises of hope and change, you have yet to deliver anything but a large invoice to the American taxpayer. In case you failed to notice, since you have signed your stimulus bill, the stock market has reacted in a less than positive manner. It has tanked. Since election night, stocks have fallen over 30%. If this is change, I wish for more of the same. If this is hope, I choose reality. Because PBO, reality right now is scarier than any novel written by Steven King. They say that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I believe that your intentions are good... but Mr. President, this economy looks an awful lot like the sixth circle of Dante's Inferno.

Yes, you have inherited some of the problem, but the problem now is that the very way you have addressed the problem is creating more tempestuous times than your predecessor ever dreamed of. The market is not a tracking poll, it is honest folk's savings and investments. It is actual capital. It is not an opinion. But, if you would like to view it that way... game on. Check the trends since November 4, 2008. It looks like your tracking poll is in the toilet, along with my savings. The magic eight ball says that popularity is not in your future. Thank you for offering your opinion on the stock market... however, after taking stock of your recent proposals and legislation, I do not put much stock into it. I would have more luck with flipping coins, rolling the dice, and consulting Ms. Cleo the television clairvoyant. Perhaps you too should consult her or anyone else on the psychic friends network before you make your next move... It worked for the Reagan's, perhaps it too could enlighten you.
Sincerely,
Future Queen of the House

I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKK!!!

I'm back after spending a wonderful extended vacation in the virgin islands. Thank you, Delta airlines for deeming our vacation too short, and extending our stay two days. It was a great 12 days, and I am glad to be home. I must admit, I truly am excellent at being on vacation. It was a great time had by all in attendance. In addition to taking a sabbatical from blogging, I also neglected the daily news as best I could... therefore, I have not only a lot of catch up at work, but also in the area of current events. Here is to a great time, and a much needed escape into paradise. Much like Kenny, I wish I was on Jost Van Dyke, sipping on some of foxy's fire water rum, and kicking it with Ivan... it would not take much for me to up and run, today. Anyone looking to get rid of an old blue chair, I know just the spot to sit and watch boats sail out of Cinnamon Bay with a painkiller in hand. God really knew what he was doing when he created the virgin islands... and the guy who invented the bushwacker.