Sarah Palin neologism of the day: alikeness, n. the quality of, so to speak, sharing a characteristic or, I don’t know, maybe, trait with another. SYN: similarity. USAGE: “I would think we all tear up during the national anthem at the beginning of a baseball game, don’t we? That’s an alikeness between Alaskans and New Yorkers.”
If this lady keeps giving interviews, we might be able to make this a regular feature.
Current temperature: 9 Fahrenheit. Forecast: Light snow, followed by colder temperatures, with an overnight range of 4 above to -2. Just a warning: Mommy’s in a bad mood.
When you’re feeling this way, it’s interesting how everything you read in the papers seems to underline it. It’s really interesting to me how many of these Wall Street scumbags are opting for the Frankie Pentangeli exit, although, comically, some screw it up. There was an interview on NPR a few days ago with a financial historian who said the infamous suicides of 1929 are an urban myth, that close examination of newspaper reports and other contemporary records show no change in the suicide rate around the time of the stock-market crash, and the whole myth seems to have been based on a single report, later retracted.
Doesn’t surprise me. Bra-burning was the same way.
Anyway, this year it seems the fallen “wealth managers” of the Tarnished Age are convinced it hurts a lot less to fall on your own sword than to fall on some guy’s wand in the prison shower, I guess. Marcus Schrencker, the Indiana wussypants, crashed a perfectly good airplane before he was found trying to die in the ignominious venue of a KOA campground. He has one foot in the club of the successful suicides we discussed a few days ago and my guess is he’ll someday come to see he’s better off alive, but you never know. Just once I want to see one of these shitheads take a more medieval view of permanent redemption, cover his head with sackcloth and ashes and spend the rest of his miserable life in repentance, maybe dishing up beans in a soup kitchen.
I mean, Michael Milken gave up his toupees. Now there’s a sacrifice.
A bit o’ bloggage:
Ryan Seacrest tries to high-five a blind guy.
Someone asked the other day if I read that Albom thing in Sports Illustrated. Answer: Some of it. My eyes crossed when I reached the line, “(Detroiters) celebrate Sweetest Day” and I couldn’t go on. So no comment.
Leads that do not inspire confidence:
Timothy F. Geithner, the man tapped to lead the nation out of the greatest economic crisis in decades — and who would oversee the Internal Revenue Service — trekked to Capitol Hill yesterday to explain to senators how he made almost $43,000 worth of mistakes on his own tax returns.
And now out into the cold and snow and too-much-to-do. At least I feel fortified with bitterness!