The SEC has decided to charge some Fannie Mae and Freddy Mac honchos with civil fraud, saying they misled the government and taxpayers about risky subprime mortgages ...
Note "civil" charges, meaning they're just being asked nicely to return what was stolen and maybe pay a penalty -- probably large enough to cut a couple of weeks off their vacations in the Hamptons next summer.
No jail for them, unlike some poor schmuck who got caught lifting a set of hub caps from parked car in Newark.
Look, if these guys profited by lying through their teeth about the value of the junk mortgages they bought and sold, they're criminals. And they have a lot of company in the genteel world of Crony (which it is) Capitalism (which it is not).
My guess is that the guilty total something in the thousands. Together they created misery and sometimes absolute poverty for hundredsof thousands of decent enough (though often, admittedly, dense) Americans.
Holder, this is the time to uncage your most rabid prosecutor, some brilliant guy with a night-school law degree, halitosis, and a badass attitude. Slip his leash and say sic-em.
Meanwhile Hillary can open negotiations to buy the old Frog prison on Devil's Island. A guy does hate to think of the Armanied thieves serving their 40 years in such a nice tropical climate, but we can compensate by making bug repellent contraband.
Dec 16, 2011
Gingrich Gun Grabber
I actually don't know whether he is or not, for sure. The Hell of it is, neither does he.
Newt claims to be pro-2A, but, as nicely illustrated by Dirt CrashrSpeaker Tweaker, his actions make his nose grow. His center of gravity is a wetted finger in the political winds.
I have a hazy memory that it was Tallulah Bankhead who went looking for the city part of Los Angeles and couldn't find it. She said, "There is no there there."
That's Newt.
---
EDIT: Fact Check. Mostly wrong. It was Gertrude Stein referring to Oakland. But I don't think it alters the point, maybe even strengthens it. I have no trouble thinking of Newt as an Oakland kind of guy. Noisy, confused, and on the ugly side of the bay.
Newt claims to be pro-2A, but, as nicely illustrated by Dirt Crashr
I have a hazy memory that it was Tallulah Bankhead who went looking for the city part of Los Angeles and couldn't find it. She said, "There is no there there."
That's Newt.
---
EDIT: Fact Check. Mostly wrong. It was Gertrude Stein referring to Oakland. But I don't think it alters the point, maybe even strengthens it. I have no trouble thinking of Newt as an Oakland kind of guy. Noisy, confused, and on the ugly side of the bay.
Ron Paul bats .500; Iowa Caucuses 2012
The debate question was about electability. Who can beat His Ineptness?
Ron Paul responds:
"Any one of us on this stage can beat President Obama...". It's a fine applause line, and he gets it, a cheerleader effect. (Match a junior high eleven against the Chicago Bears and the school gym pep rally will echo with promises of an upset. Republicans are becoming persuaded Obama will beat himself, just like unpopular Harry Truman did in 1948.) No score.
When things quiet down, he becomes his sensible self again: "... the question is, what do we have to offer?" Then he trots out the logic which defines him, sound money, and end to warlike nation building in the Sandbox and beyond, government as a necessary evil rather than dispenser of free ice cream. Bingo. Out of the park, Sir. Everyone who hates free ice cream will vote for you.
---
Embarrassment of the night: Rick Perry: "I'm the Tim Tebow of the Iowa caucuses."
Surprise of the night: Michele appears quite sane in one or two exchanges and seems to have won the point that Newt is an ass for patting her girly little head.
Winner of the Georgia two-step competition: Newt for his creative explanation that sucking a million-six from the taxpayers via Freddie and Fannie is neither lobbying nor influence peddling.
Most disciplined hair and best-tailored suit: Mitt, for the umpteenth time, retiring the trophy.
As usual, Santorum displays the most concerned visage, just this side of tears. As a matter of simple human compassion, we need to cheer this guy up. Next time, somebody should ask him about muffins.
Also present: Huntsman.
Ron Paul responds:
"Any one of us on this stage can beat President Obama...". It's a fine applause line, and he gets it, a cheerleader effect. (Match a junior high eleven against the Chicago Bears and the school gym pep rally will echo with promises of an upset. Republicans are becoming persuaded Obama will beat himself, just like unpopular Harry Truman did in 1948.) No score.
When things quiet down, he becomes his sensible self again: "... the question is, what do we have to offer?" Then he trots out the logic which defines him, sound money, and end to warlike nation building in the Sandbox and beyond, government as a necessary evil rather than dispenser of free ice cream. Bingo. Out of the park, Sir. Everyone who hates free ice cream will vote for you.
---
Embarrassment of the night: Rick Perry: "I'm the Tim Tebow of the Iowa caucuses."
Surprise of the night: Michele appears quite sane in one or two exchanges and seems to have won the point that Newt is an ass for patting her girly little head.
Winner of the Georgia two-step competition: Newt for his creative explanation that sucking a million-six from the taxpayers via Freddie and Fannie is neither lobbying nor influence peddling.
Most disciplined hair and best-tailored suit: Mitt, for the umpteenth time, retiring the trophy.
As usual, Santorum displays the most concerned visage, just this side of tears. As a matter of simple human compassion, we need to cheer this guy up. Next time, somebody should ask him about muffins.
Also present: Huntsman.
Dec 15, 2011
Brownian Motion in the Home
Everyone must believe in something. I believe in housekeeping by Brownian motion.
You never set out to clean and neaten and organize. Boring. You let sublime nature take its course. When the molecule glob which is you bumps against a blob of not-you molecules which seem dirty or out of place you may react, clean it or put it away -- whatever seems necessary.
Or you may not. (What the heck, it isn't +that+ bad. I'll get at it tomorrow.)
It is a low-stress approach to domestic respectability, perhaps something like having a mute, invisible, Martha Stewart drop in once in a while.
Interesting thing about that, though; there seems to be a second absolute zero other than the one Lord Kelvin sort of discovered. Around here, anyway, the titivation-motivator molecule is often remains inert for weeks, regardless of indicated ambient temperature. So, for days on end, a photo of my quarters would perfectly illustrate the Wiki entry on "entropy."
Other times, like this morning, it gets entirely out of hand.
All I intended was to get some books off the table, the couch, and the kitchen counter and maybe wash the dishes. That was about 8 a.m. Now, three and one-half hours later, the books are shelved. But also I have vacuumed. I have rehung pictures. I have cleaned the"miscellaneous" drawer. And, so help me, I am washing blankets.
Please.
Help.
Stop me before I get out the Windex.
You never set out to clean and neaten and organize. Boring. You let sublime nature take its course. When the molecule glob which is you bumps against a blob of not-you molecules which seem dirty or out of place you may react, clean it or put it away -- whatever seems necessary.
Or you may not. (What the heck, it isn't +that+ bad. I'll get at it tomorrow.)
It is a low-stress approach to domestic respectability, perhaps something like having a mute, invisible, Martha Stewart drop in once in a while.
Interesting thing about that, though; there seems to be a second absolute zero other than the one Lord Kelvin sort of discovered. Around here, anyway, the titivation-motivator molecule is often remains inert for weeks, regardless of indicated ambient temperature. So, for days on end, a photo of my quarters would perfectly illustrate the Wiki entry on "entropy."
Other times, like this morning, it gets entirely out of hand.
All I intended was to get some books off the table, the couch, and the kitchen counter and maybe wash the dishes. That was about 8 a.m. Now, three and one-half hours later, the books are shelved. But also I have vacuumed. I have rehung pictures. I have cleaned the"miscellaneous" drawer. And, so help me, I am washing blankets.
Please.
Help.
Stop me before I get out the Windex.
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