Welcome to WeeklyWilson.com, where author/film critic Connie (Corcoran) Wilson avoids totally losing her marbles in semi-retirement by writing about film (see the Chicago Film Festival reviews and SXSW), politics and books----her own books and those of other people. You'll also find her diverging frequently to share humorous (or not-so-humorous) anecdotes and concerns. Try it! You'll like it!

Category: Editorial Page 27 of 30

In this age of Donald J. Trump and the Mueller investigation, you can expect updates on what is happening to our country and its Constitution.

Spelling Bees I Have Known and Loved—Or Not

Spelling Bees have always had a special significance for me going back to 1979, when, as I completed a decade in the public schools in Silvis, Illinois at the junior high school level, a “new gun in town” swept into our district and began barking orders like a drill sergeant about how all of the English department (all 3 of us) were going to be participating in the Big Deal Spelling Bee sponsored by our local newspaper, and about how SHE was going to be attending meetings to facilitate same (while the Principal of our Junior High School covered her classes) so she could be absent from the drudgery of teaching, blah, blah, blah.

The teacher—I’ll call her Jill St. John, (although that was not her real name)—did not even have a valid 4-year teaching certificate at the time, but was working to secure it. Why, then, was she being positioned as the Queen Bee of the Spelling Bee and bossing others around, which included calling several meetings at the crack of dawn at least one hour before school was even scheduled to start? [I am happy to report that I did not attend a single early-morning meeting; I’d rather be shot at dawn than have to go to such a meeting at 7 a.m. The very thought made me sick, so that’s what I was on those days.]

Why, she was married to the Superintendent of Schools of a very small nearby community, which I will call White Cliffs, for the purpose of this rehash of my deep-seated resentment of Spelling Bee Oh-So-Proper mentality. Ultimately, Jill and her husband left town under a very dark cloud that smacks of some of the abuses of the Catholic Church. But, during that school year, the Queen Bee was riding high and riding herd.

It seemed intrinsically unfair, to me, that a teacher who had just arrived on the scene (and wasn’t even fully certified) had suddenly been named Big Cheese, with all the rest of the English department (i.e., all 2 of us) supposed to kiss the Papal ring. I had even been named one of the “Ten Most Creative Teachers in America” in a TAB Scholastic Magazine contest shortly before this.

While I had (and have) nothing against spelling bees, up to that point, and would have enjoyed participating in one when a young girl, the pages and pages of directions for procedures on HOW we were to go about selecting our contestant of choice for the entire school were ludicrous, impractical and so time-consuming as to be virtually useless.

I was already supposed to be teaching Language Arts: Literature, Grammar, Composition and, (in a separate report card grade), Spelling in one 45-minute period. I barely had time to work in FOUR separate disciplines daily, giving 10 minutes per day to each. I was very “high” on writing/composition in my classes, and I also volunteered my time to run two different speech competitions (Modern Woodmen Oratorical Contest and Optimists Oratorical Competition) after school, as well as being the school newspaper supervisor, so running interminable “spell offs” in my classroom during the ordinary classroom day, in addition to the tasks described here, was not in the cards. When I saw the “recommendations” for HOW we were to come up with our contestants, I quickly realized that my best method would be to check the highest I.Q.’s in my study hall (which was held last hour of the day) and see if the two brightest students I had at that time of day would be willing to “spell” each other during the hour, which was an hour given over to doing one’s homework and otherwise taxing the patience of the study hall supervisor. Therefore, Chris Thompson and Fred Cernetisch became my duly selected contestants, and life went on as usual, with my students, at least, receiving a balanced diet of Literature, Composition, Grammar and Spelling. We had our “contestants” and all was right with the Language Arts World in my classroom, but things were rapidly going downhill in Jill St. John’s classroom right next door.

Mrs. St. John plunged into her new-found prominence with great gusto and began doing things exactly the way the myriad sheets of directions from our local newspaper described, which meant that she had no time to actually teach anything else. It also meant that there were upsets aplenty during her “Spell offs.”

The smartest and best and most motivated students did not, like cream, rise to the top of the Spelling Bee food chain in her numerous and never-ending elimination(s). As can happen in the real deal, chance and luck played a big part, and she did not care for the contestants who ended up as the “winners” of her never-ending spelling bee preliminaries. In fact, she disliked their odds of winning anything beyond a prison sentence so much (when compared to Chris and Fred’s odds, anyway) that she ran in a ringer—a boy who had been out with a broken leg but was among the smartest in the school, who hobbled onstage with his leg in a cast, never having taken part in any of her charade of “Spell Offs.” (That student is now a physician and almost certainly was among the highest I.Q.’s in the entire school).

The budding doctor, however, was a bit of a problem child. He didn’t really care that much for sitting through classes that did not challenge his superior abilities, and he had recently been disciplined at the school picnic for bringing a giant jam box and blasting hip hop music with obscene lyrics. (All in a day’s work for the school’s budding genius.)

This student—I’ll call him “Mike”—could not be counted on to apply himself with any diligence to the task of actually studying a bunch of dry spelling words. He wasn’t of the ethnic strains that “home school” their child and do NOTHING but study spelling words for months. (Now THERE’S a well-rounded child…if all you want him or her to be able to do is spell “antidisestablishmentarianism!”)

So, during the REAL spell-off in our school gym several things happened that were unexpected.

First, all of my teaching colleagues whom I had considered good friends and with whom I had stormed the barricades to achieve recognition for our teachers’ group over a three-year period, went to work setting up chairs and helping Jill St. John out, which I considered, then and now, a real slap in the face.

Second, during the actual Spell-off to determine who would be our junior high school’s contestant, the judges, under the leadership of Jill St. John, seemed oblivious to the fact that “Mike” had just misspelled a word and eliminated himself. I was upstairs in the overlooking band balcony and actually had to stand up and yell down at the assembled PTB, “What about ‘predestination’?” (or whatever the offending word was). The judges finally had to acknowledge that Mr. Future Surgeon had missed his word and the contestant from my homeroom (Chris) was the winner of the “Spell off.”

Third: the fact that the contestant from my homeroom won and hers did not so enraged Jill St. John that she totally lost it in the hallway after school. With plenty of students within earshot, she began swearing a blue streak at me (as it turned out, Jill St. John had the vocabulary of a sailor). And let’s not forget that she had gone back on her own many and numerous “directives.” After countless hours wasted having “spell offs” in her classroom, she had adopted my strategy and simply selected her smartest study hall student to compete, rather than abiding by the rather lengthy and capricious results she obtained while following the directions of the local newspaper.

“Next year,” she screamed, “this will be televised!”

I barely managed to keep from saying Big Whoop.

I maintained my calm (just barely) and asked her if she’d mind accompanying me to the office to repeat everything she had just said (screamed, actually) for our esteemed Principal, Mr. DoNothing.

We marched down to the office, me determined to have all the wrongs I had suffered for months set right, but the Principal (Mr. Do-Nothing, as opposed to Dr. DoLittle) did his usual straddling of the fence. He ushered me, solo, into his office, keeping the salty-tongued Jill in his outer office.

I remember asking him, “Just exactly who IS the Chairman of the English department? I’ve been here 10 years and have a Master’s degree plus 30 hours. Why is this woman bossing everyone around, calling early morning meetings, and swearing at me in the halls, to boot?”

Mr. Do-Nothing answered that we didn’t HAVE “Chairmen” of our departments, [which was a crock], and ushered me out a side door that exited outside, suggesting that I leave early for the day. I was pissed and likely to remain so, since I still am, 34 years later. He then ushered Jill St. John into his office where they, no doubt, commiserated on how difficult Mrs. Wilson was and how wonderful her behavior had been, because, after all, SHE was married to the Superintendent of White Cliff School District, [which he would soon leave under a very black cloud].

However, the “right” student won (and, later, went to work for me at Sylvan for 15 years) but, as luck would have it, her grandparents offered her a trip to Hawaii that was to take place at exactly the same time as the aforementioned Spelling Bee Finals, which were to be held at Augustana College during Easter break.

So, “Mike”—as runner-up—-with his cast now off his leg—is shown in the official school yearbook front and center with the TRUE winner (Chris) stuck somewhere in the back of the photo. I was never issued an apology by the woman who swore a blue streak at me in the halls, and, at the end of that school year, I took one entire year off from teaching to ponder a school district that valued my efforts so little and kissed ass so much.

Did I quit?

No, I did not. I returned after one year away (spent looking for work at a higher level) and taught 5 more years before quitting for good. to take a job writing for Performance Learning Systems, Inc.

But now you have the background of my disdain for Spelling Bees, with which I preface a review of “Bad Words” to follow.
While I think Spelling Bees can be fun and useful, I don’t think that staying home and doing NOTHING but studying spelling words has much to recommend it as being the best possible educational course of action, and I still remember the injustice(s) of the first one held at my school in school year 1979-1980.

M.K. Nobilette Eliminated on March 20th “American Idol;” Returns to San Francisco

The judges have spoken and M.K. Nobilette has been sent back to San Francisco, a town she loves, where a loyal female fan base kept her in the competition until March 20th, 2014. Keith Urban, Jennifer Lopez and Harry Connick, Jr., did not see fit to use their “save” for the baseball-cap wearing Bieber lookalike.

The bottom three this night, (besides M.K.) were Dexter Roberts of Fayette, Alabama, and Sam Woolf of Bradenton, Florida. I’m having trouble coming up with the reasons why the good-looking young Woolf keeps ending up in the bottom three, but perhaps his timid, non-assertiveness is the answer, since Caleb Johnson—a far less attractive youth, but a very confident and talented one—seems to be a big crowd favorite. Yes, this is a singing competition, but, in some ways, it mirrors the “Q” factor ratings that network talking heads are given for how “likeable” the audiences find them. It was a low “Q” rating that doomed Cheryl Tieg’s attempts to become one of those talking heads years ago.

The night featured Jennifer Lopez dancing in a skimpy outfit, backed up by girls half her age, singing “ILuhYaPapi.” She resurrected her “Jenny from the block” image and the song, (which was mainly a choreographed dance number), drew heavily on her Hispanic heritage. On a Yahoo “answer” blog, someone searching for the title of the song was answered by “Noneofurbusiness” with the title (I Luh Ya Papi) and the remark, “Worst song ever and the title puts us Latinos to shame, like we can’t speak English.”

I’m not sure I’d go so far as to say “worst song ever,” but I do wonder how long Jennifer plans to continue with the revealing outfits and the ultra-sexy schtick. She is the mother of 6-year-old twins (Emme and Max) and has been married 3 times. On July 24th, she will turn 45. Madonna is 11 years older than Jennifer and still at it, so perhaps that is the answer.

The other performers this night were a new band from Harry Connick’s part of the world, Royal Teeth, who sang “Wild.” It consisted of a lot of confetti flying and Harry Connick, Jr., saying (just before they performed), “These guys are awesome.” Again, not going there, but they were peppy.

If I were handicapping this race, it would be a good bet that “someone from the South” will win. I say that because, of the remaining contestants—now reduced to only 9—6 of those 9 or 2/3 are Southerners. North Carolina has 2 entries (Caleb Johnson and Majesty Rose), while Alabama has 3 (C.J. Harris, Dexter Roberts and Jessica Meuse.) I’m counting Florida’s Sam Woolf in that number. That means that only Michigan (Jena Irene and Malaya Watson) has an outside chance with a Midwestern win and Alex Preston stands alone as the representative of the East coast (Mont Vernon, New Hampshire). With M.K. Nobilette gone, the west coast has no contestants remaining.

Since C.J. Harris was given a pass despite one of the most out-of-tune performances ever, and has been consistently sharp throughout the competition, he obviously has a high “Q” quotient. His fan base is motivated to keep him in the competition, even when he sang out-of-key for an entire song. I’m less certain that Majesty Rose and Sam Woolf can keep dodging the bullet of the bottom three, but Caleb Johnson certainly has to be considered a front-runner. I’d put Alex Preston in that category if he weren’t so nerdy, overall.

I, personally, would like to see Jena Irene and Malaya Watson hang in there, but they are female and, historically, the voting is done by teen-aged girls. This is not to say that a female contestant cannot win, since many have, but it is to say that perhaps in the years that a female won the competition, they might not have been competing against a powerhouse singer like Caleb.

I could live with the loud showman Caleb Johnson coming in Numero Uno and claiming the crown, but I’ll reserve judgment on who will be the next-to-last contestant standing, [whom barely anyone remembers after the final night.] (Anyone remember the name of the contestant Philip Phillips bested without looking it up? I thought not.) Those singers go on to have careers on Broadway and make a very nice living at it, thank you very much, so kudos to all. We all know that Chris Daughtry didn’t win, and neither did Jennifer Hudson, and they seem to be doing just fine.

I’d look for Jessica Meuse to be eliminated in the near future, and I’m still scratching my head over Majesty Rose and her many brushes with the axe. (Gotta’ get that ‘Q’ factor up, girl!)
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Fifty Years Ago Today (Feb. 25, 1964): Muhammad Ali Fought Sonny Liston


Fifty years ago today (February 25, 1964), Muhammad Ali (born Cassius Clay) defeated Sonny Liston (aka, “the Big Bear”) to win the Heavyweight Championship of the World. It was “the Scowl” versus “the Mouth” in Miami.

Muhammad Ali and me: Iowa City, 1968:

When I read that today was the 50-year anniversary of the Clay/Liston fight (Ali was still known as Cassius Clay, what he called his “slave name,” until after the fight), I remembered the day Muhammad Ali visited Iowa City, Iowa and spoke at the Iowa Memorial Union. I was there. I was one of many students crowded into the room.

His anti-war message against the war in Vietnam was what drew me to his speech. At the time, it did not make Muhammad Ali popular, just as the student protests at Berkeley had made student protest leader Mario Savio much reviled in 1965, three years earlier, when I was a student on campus at the University of California at Berkeley. Today, there is a statue of the (now-deceased) Mario Savio on the campus grounds, and Muhammad Ali’s name is known and revered around the world. And, yes, perhaps reviled by some for being “mouthy” and proving he was as “good” and as “pretty” and as “fast” and as “great” as he always claimed to be. [It’s amazing the insights that time gives to events happening in the immediacy of the present.]

Like many young people of the sixties, I thought it was unfair that speaking out against the war might land the heavyweight champ in prison.
(He was facing 5 years in jail and a $10,000 fine for refusing to serve in Vietnam). Ali was also denied the opportunity to do what he did best—box— and 4 of his prime athletic years were taken from him. He was stripped of his title and banned from fighting from age 25 until he was 29. (March of 1967 until October of 1970). Many sports experts have speculated about how that might have affected his legacy, since he did mount a comeback and fought well past his prime, winning the coveted heavyweight boxing crown three times.

Muhammad Ali (born Cassius Clay)

Muhammad Ali (born Cassius Clay)

Ali’s standing up and speaking out on principle emboldened even Martin Luther King, Jr. to push more strenuously for human rights and racial justice and equality for African-American citizens. Ultimately, the Supreme Court overthrew the previous court decision that denied Ali conscientious objector status, and he was able to return to boxing in 1970, beating Jerry Quarry on October 26, 1970. But when I heard him speak, “live,” his future was very much up in the air. Soon after his return to the ring, Ali lost to Joe Frazier in what has been dubbed the Fight of the Century on March 8, 1971, in Madison Square Garden. I still remember my husband’s excitement when he came home from the closed circuit grainy televised match.

Time frame of Ali’s Iowa City Speech

Ali’s speech on campus happened between March of 1967 and March of 1968, although the University archives say it was 1969. I am fairly certain this is wrong. (I was married and living in the Quad Cities by March of 1968. Ali’s appearance in Iowa City had to have taken place during the first semester of 1967-1968 when I was still on campus and living at 229 Iowa Avenue. I remember being present. I am certain I didn’t drive BACK to campus from East Moline, so it was in the fall semester of school year 1967-1968). I always tried to take in speeches and concerts by any Big Name speaking on campus, which led me to hear Saul Bellow speak, and the Ramsey Lewis Trio play, and Booker T and the MGs perform “Green Onions” and Johnny Mathis (remember him?) sing in the Union. Many years later, I did drive back, to hear former President Bill Clinton speak and to hear Ben Folds (without the Ben Folds Five).

I remember Ali’s message, which was characteristic of the anti-war message he was delivering at a number of colleges across the nation during the time he was not allowed to fight in the ring, but was fighting in court to stay out of jail, be allowed to resume his career, and urging equality for citizens of color
. His rhetoric, which sounded very anti-white, was scary to his elders, but the students of the sixties on campus at Iowa, anyway, embraced his message of liberty and justice for all, just as our forefathers had embraced such radical notions in 1776. It’s unclear whether Ali’s reception was as warm and fuzzy in the South, but I can tell you that it was a very closely packed, interested, respectful and enthusiastic crowd that listened to him speak at the Iowa Memorial Union that day. I remember the room was crowded with students who turned out en masse to see the fighter we saw on television “float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.”

Ali’s Legacy

Young Cassius Clay, later to be renamed Muhammad Ali.

Young Cassius Clay, later to be renamed Muhammad Ali.

His strong suit not being humility, Ali had self-described himself as “the Greatest.” He wasn’t far off in this early self-assessment of his own boxing prowess. Muhammad Ali was named one of the most recognizable sports figures of the past 100 years, with only Babe Ruth coming close to the universal recognition that Muhammad Ali earned. Ali was also crowned “Sportsman of the Century” by Sports Illustrated magazine and “Sports Personality of the Century” by the British Broadcasting Corporation. It’s safe to say that boxing will never see a fighter so good who was so controversial, entertaining and larger-than-life than Mohammed Ali/Cassius Clay, and whose stance on so many important issues of the day resonated in such important ways. He was a showman. The sport will not see his equal and, in fact, seems to have withered and died in favor of WWC and cage matches and other televised fare.
History changed forever when the 6’ 2” good-looking, outspoken fighter with the 80 inch reach bested the rough-and-tough gangster-related Sonny Liston [who would later be found dead from a possible heroin drug overdose on December 30, 1970.] The intimidating Liston was heavily favored to knock Cassius Clay’s block off. I remember thinking that Clay probably didn’t have a chance against a thug like Liston and hoping he wouldn’t get hurt too badly. Some even wondered if the brash youngster would even show up for the fight. Clay took pride in his good looks; the general feeling going into the fight was that Clay might have a hard time preserving his handsome good looks against the brutal beating Liston was about to administer.



The Fight


Liston was a 7 to 1 favorite.
Clay had not really beaten any professional boxers of note, but, instead, had won a gold medal in the light heavyweight division in the 1960 Rome Olympics. In his 1975 autobiography, Ali claimed he threw the gold medal into the Ohio River after being refused service in a white diner in Louisville. Others dispute that version of events, saying he merely lost the medal. [Ali was issued a replacement medal 36 years after the fact, and it was presented to him during a basketball intermission at the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta, an Olympics where Muhammad Ali lit the Olympic torch. Talk about a national change of heart!].
Clay, prior to the fight that would launch his career as the only heavyweight to win 3 lineal World Heavyweight Championships (1964, 1974, 1978) on his way to becoming one of the most recognizable figures in the world, in a typical display of the psychological trash talk for which he became known, said that Liston “smelled like a bear” and that he was “going to donate him to a zoo” after defeating him In the ring. Prior to the fight, he recited this poem: “Clay comes out to meet Liston and Liston starts to retreat. If Liston goes back an inch farther, he’ll end up in a ringside seat…”

At the time, nobody thought the good-looking 22-year-old kid from Louisville, Kentucky, had a chance against the hardened ex-con, who learned to write his name while in a Missouri prison— a career criminal who had been arrested at least 19 times. Liston told Sports Illustrated, “I had nothing when I was a kid but a lot of brothers and sisters, a helpless mother, and a father who didn’t care about any of us. We grew up with few clothes, no shoes, little to eat. My father worked me hard and whupped me hard.”

Ali’s pattern of confidence and taunting his opponents before fights would continue in his career as he took on other fighters, like George Foreman. Ali was also confident and colorful before the Rumble in the Jungle in 1974. He told interviewer David Frost, “If you think the world was surprised when Nixon resigned, wait ’til I whup Foreman’s behind!” He told the press, “I’ve done something new for this fight. I done wrestled with an alligator, I done tussled with a whale; handcuffed lightning, thrown thunder in jail; only last week, I murdered a rock, injured a stone, hospitalized a brick; I’m so mean I make medicine sick.” Ali was wildly popular in Zaire, with crowds chanting “Ali, bomaye” (“Ali, kill him”) wherever he went.

The Boxer and the Beatles

When Liston was offered a chance to pose with a new British band touring the United States at the time (and causing a sensation) Liston refused to pose with “those sissies,” meaning John, Paul, George and Ringo, who were appearing on Ed Sullivan’s TV show on February 16th and February 23rd. Cassius Clay (who would change his religious affiliation and his name to Muhammad Ali after the fight) DID accept boxing promoter Harold Conrad’s offer to pose with the Beatles, bursting through the door of his 5th Street Gym in Miami Beach and shouting to the mop-topped group, “Come on, Beatles! Let’s go make some money!”

The Conscientious Objector Issue

Then came the difficult years. As an outspoken black man advocating black pride and opposition to the unpopular war in Vietnam, Muhammed Ali’s topics of choice were not popular. He spoke at the Memorial Union, attired in a suit. He had just been denied status as a conscientious objector and stripped of his heavyweight title (1967). He did not fight between March 22 of 1967 and October of 1970, years when he was 26 to 29 years old. That was the period of time when I heard him speak at the Iowa Memorial Union. Every state denied him a license to fight.

After his title defense against Zora Folley on March 22, Ali’s title was stripped following his refusal to be drafted into Army service (on April 28, 1967). His boxing license was immediately suspended by the state of New York and he was convicted on June 20, 1967 (by an all-white jury) and sentenced to five years in prison and a $10,000 fine for draft evasion. While his case was on appeal, he was free on posted bond, traveling the country giving speeches like the one I attended, in which he made statements against the Vietnam War and urged that blacks be given racial equality in America. Ali’s conviction was overturned on appeal and, (as he was out on bond despite the threat of 5 years in jail), he served no jail time. He did, however, lose 4 crucial years of boxing eligibility during his athletic prime.

Among statements Muhammad Ali made, woven into his college addresses, were these:

“Man, I ain’t got no quarrel with them Vietcong.” (He would add that no Vietnamese had ever called him the “n” word)…No, I am not going 10,000 miles to help murder, kill, and burn other people simply to continue the domination of white slave-masters over dark people the world over. This is the day and age when such evil injustice must come to an end…Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go 10,000 miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on brown people in Vietnam while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs and denied simple human rights?..My enemy is the white people, not the Vietcong…You’re my opposer when I want freedom. You’re my opposer when I want justice. You’re my opposer when I want equality. You won’t even stand up for me in America because of my religious beliefs, and you want me to go somewhere and fight, when you won’t stand up for my religious beliefs at home?”

In 2014, fifty years later, when the film Twelve Years a Slave is a major Oscar contender for Best Picture at the March 2nd Academy Awards, these words ring as true as ever.

Boxing Talent

Ali probably had the fastest hand and foot speed ever for a big fighter. Jimmy Jacobs, who co-managed Mike Tyson, measured young Ali’s punching speed (using a synchronizer) versus Sugar Ray Robinson, a welter/middleweight often considered the best pound-for-pound fighter in history. Ali was 25% faster than Robinson, even though Ali was 45 to 50 pounds heavier. (Ali had once asked Sugar Ray to manage him, but the former champion declined.) “No matter what his opponents heard about him, they didn’t realize how fast he was until they got in the ring with him,” Jacobs said.
The effect of Ali’s punches was cumulative. “Ali would rub you out,” said Floyd Patterson, who fought Ali on November 22, 1965, right after his two fights with Liston. “He would hit you 14,000 times and he wouldn’t knock you out; he rubbed you out. It’s very hard to hit a moving target, and (Ali) moved all the time, with such grace: three minutes of every round for fifteen rounds. He never stopped. It was extraordinary.”

Of his later career, Arthur Mercante, (boxing announcer), said: “Ali knew all the tricks. He was the best fighter I ever saw in terms of clinching. Not only did he use it to rest, but he was big and strong and knew how to lean on opponents and push and shove and pull to tire them out. Ali was so smart. Most guys are just in there fighting, but Ali had a sense of everything that was happening, almost as though he was sitting at ringside analyzing the fight while he fought it.”

Taunting: the Louisville Lip

Speaking of how Ali stoked Liston’s anger and overconfidence before their first fight, a sports writer commented that “the most brilliant fight strategy in boxing history was devised by a teenager who had graduated 376 in a class of 391.” Ali knew that what he said outside the ring, taunting his opponents as “ignorant” (Frazier) or comparing them to an animal (Liston) did psychological damage to his opponents when they were in the ring. Ai got under their skin, and that was his intention. When Ali referred to Joe Frazier as “ignorant” on national TV, Frasier wrestled Ali to the ground while live television cameras broadcast the unexpected outburst. The animosity towards Ali, from Frasier, lasted until Frazier’s death on November 7, 2011.

Considering that I’m a small-town Iowa girl from a hometown of not quite 5,000 people, I’ve had the good fortune to be in several places when events were taking place that would turn out to be turning points in history—or, at least, important historic events that one might even call a milestone. Among them were events such as the beginning of the Free Speech movement on campus at Berkeley in 1965 and the student riots that year; Ted Kennedy’s last speech inside the DNC in Denver in 2008 nominating Barack Obama; in Grant Park in 2008 when Obama spoke to a cheering crowd on election night; at Invesco Field in Denver when Obama accepted the nomination for president from his party; at the very beginnings of the Tea Party movement inside Ron Paul’s Rally for America in Minneapolis in 2008; at a concert at the Savoy Hotel in Birmingham, England by a band (using a light show) which would go on to become Pink Floyd; in the 7th row of the Beatles concert at the Cow Palace near San Francisco in 1964; at a concert in Paris given by James Brown and the Famous Flames in 1965; at the Howard Dean Scream Heard ‘Round the World at the Val Air Ballroom in West Des Moines in 2004; at concerts by the Rolling Stones, Prince, Dave Matthews Band, John Cougar Mellencamp, U2, and a host of other memorable live acts, including Taylor Swift on May 8, 2010, at the IWireless Center (formerly the Mark of the Quad Cities) when my daughter worked for 13 Management, Ms. Swift’s organization.

And I was also at the Iowa Memorial Union in Iowa City, Iowa, when Muhammed Ali stood up and spoke out for his beliefs in 1968.

The Beatles at the San Francisco Cow Palace, “Live”

Back when the Earth’s crust was warm, I convinced my parents to buy me a round-trip ticket from Marion to San Francisco so that I could attend Berkeley for summer school. The ticket cost $75. (I still have the receipt).

It was “the summer of love” and the boy I met there, from Philadelphia (William Hopkins) bought a purple Czechoslovokian motorcyle, which he did not know how to drive. He was living in a fraternity house on campus; I was in a dorm that overlooked San Francisco Bay, and my roommate, who asked me to be in her wedding, was engaged to a sailor who was about to ship out to Vietnam. (The ceremony was at China Lake, and I was the only other female present amongst a large group of sailors about to ship out to go to war in Vietnam. That made me very popular).

One day, we learned that the Beatles were going to play the San Francisco Cow Palace, and I convinced Colgate—err, Bill—to cut class with me and drive up and see if we could get in. We got tickets in the 7th row for $7 and it was the craziest, most hysterical concert I’ve ever attended. The closest I have seen young girls go nuts were the pre-teens at the Taylor Swift concert in Moline on May 8, 2010, when my daughter was working for 13 Management and got me extremely good seats.

The Beatles were brought in in an armored car. But they were late. The restive crowd began stomping on the bleacher seats.

Finally, they emerged and began playing, especially some songs from their new release, HELP! The National Anthem was played by King Curtiss and his band (a noted saxophonist of the day). On the bill after that, Shirley Bassey came out and sang the theme from “Goldfinger,” which was then a new release. “Cannibal and the Headhunters” came out and sat down on the stage and did a sort of “choo choo train” number. And The Astronauts from Colorado were supposed to be on the bill. I was looking forward to hearing them (again) because they had played at some Beta Theta Pi parties at the University (of Iowa) and I’d heard them before, but they didn’t show up.

Security at the Cow Palace was always bad. In fact, this night, it consisted of only one guy and chicken wire waist high. Therefore, some random fellow went streaking across the stage, stole John’s hat and Ringo’s drumsticks. The concert was delayed a bit while someone fetched more drumsticks.

I remember thinking that George didn’t add much. He literally just stood there, like a stick in the mud. My favorite (then and now) was Paul, but it was definitely Paul and John who ran the show. THe best parts were the punctuation of various rhythms with the head shaking that became their trademark.

People down in front started standing on the folding chairs, and, one by one, they went down like dominoes. (*Note to self: do not stand on folding chairs.) After the concert was over, they herded the crowd out through a narrow concrete-passageway. My feet were not touching the ground, but I was moving. It was scary. I thought I was going to e crushed by the crowd. (I’ve experienced this only once since, at the Hubert Humphrey Dome Rolling Stones “Bridges to Babylon” tour, when they refused to open the doors because the roof might collapse.)

It is a concert I will never forget, and I offer the video up to you on the occasion of the 50th year since the Beatles came to America. (The audio on this clip was added from a different concert, so at times the lips don’t seem to “synch up” with the music.)

Ever since this concert experience, I’ve been gun-shy about being “down front” in a mosh pit sort of atmosphere, which is why, when the Dave Matthews Band played Palmer Auditorium, I took my young daughter up in the balcony, rather than down front, and, after audience members began crowd surfing and were dropped on their heads, I was glad we were far away.)

“The Purge” and Trayvon Martin/George Zimmerman Trial

Ethan Hawke stars in “The Purge.”

The Ethan Hawke vehicle “The Purge,” made for $3 million, has been out since June 9th. I thought it looked interesting, but I think the main reason it struck me as so interesting when I took it in this afternoon (at the $6 for ticket and popcorn and small drink theater) was that the George Zimmerman trial ended yesterday with Zimmerman’s acquittal for shooting and killing Trayvon Martin in a gated community where Zimmerman was part of the neighborhood watch program.

The trial has consumed days of television and the themes of this science fiction film about a fictional future where anything goes for 24 hours of each year, in an effort to “release the beast” resonated. The year is 2022 and the night is March 21st—which, coincidentally, happens to be my husband’s birthday.

“The purge” is upon the populace (actual filming took place in Chatsworth, California) and all the well-to-do people have invested heavily in security systems to protect themselves during this one night of complete and utter lawlessness. Even murder is condoned the night of the purge, so it is best to be under lock and key.

Ethan Hawke has made a pretty penny selling security systems to all of his neighbors in the gated community.
Ethan and his wife and two children—a teen-aged daughter Zoe and a younger son Charlie—will be safely ensconced behind thick metal walls. “Blessed be America, a nation reborn.” Unemployment is 1% and this country-wide act of catharsis is supported by the populace, who place blue flowers outside to show their patriotic involvement with the sanctioned chaos going on outside their locked doors.

It is noted that “The poor can’t afford to protect themselves,” but who really cares about the poor? As the plot has it, “The purge allows people a release. This night saved our country, unburdening the economy. It is the eradication of the poor and those unable to defend themselves.”

Certainly the “fine, young, very educated guys and gals” who come calling at the Sandens’ house, demanding that the “dirty homeless pig” who has been given safe haven inside the Sandens’ home hold the poor to be fair game. They gather outside Ethan Hawke’s home and give him a deadline to turn over the African American homeless person compassionate son Charlie has taken pity on and allowed into the sanctuary the Sandens’ home provides.

Give him up, is the message, “It’s fight night. We don’t want to kill our >own,” says the psychotic leader of this demented Manson-like gang. But if the Sandens don’t turn over “the piece of flesh that you are protecting,” which the gang says “exists only to serve our needs of the purge,” then the mob will kill them all.

What to do! What to do? The message to Ethan Hawke is “It’s time for you to quiet down and let us do our duties as Americans.” Otherwise, say the psychos gathered outside the house waiting for reinforcements that will allow them to breach the fortified walls, “Was his life really worth yours?”

As security system salesman James Sanden says to his wife (Lena Headey) as they huddle helplessly inside, “Things like this are not supposed to happen in our neighborhood.” She responds, “But they’re happening, James. They’re happening right now.”

It comes down to a simple restatement of the issue: “It’s him or us.”

James Sanden votes for “him” and attempts to duct tape the poor, bloody, wounded homeless man to a chair on rollers, planning to sacrifice him to the hungry crowd, even though, as he is overpowering the helpless man he says, “We didn’t do anything to deserve this and you don’t deserve it.”

Shades of Trayvon Martin/George Zimmerman.

Bettendorf Woman on Kathie Lee Gifford and Hoda Show

I’m up late as we spent the day at the University of Iowa Hospitals learning that the branch retinal artery occlusion that partially blinded my husband in his left eye is probably permanent. A bitter pill.

p[Tomorrow, he has tests for various things…mostly ultrasound-type tests for carotid artery involvement or plaque, ECCO, DOPPLER. Unfortunately, the TEE (trans esophageal echo cardiogram) that Iowa City would like costs $3,000 and our insurance will not cover it. [It was canceled without even asking us while we were seeing Dr. Elliot Shon at University Hospitals.] My question: will the Doppler and ECCO tests be enough? How is it possible to be just sitting there, stress-free, no pain, no trauma, and just lose your vision? It’s scary.

On a happier note, a woman from Bettendorf, Iowa (last name, Waterman) who was with her son (Frank?) was selected for a make-over and looked great.

I sure hope the test tomorrow will pin down the source of this flukey thing that caused my husband to go blind while sitting on a Cancun beach having a drink with a doctor friend. Apparently, there is only a 90 minute window of time in which you could regnerate the eye.

I feel sad.

First Review of “Red Is for Rage” from “My Cozie Corner” (March 18)

Red Is for Rage, Book #2 in The Color of Evil series.

Review:

“Red is for Rage” is the second book in ‘The Color of Evil’ series. Connie continues the story where it left off but we learn more about Tad’s powers. A nicely flowing plot that will hook you in from the beginning. A must read for all adult readers who love the thrill of horror.

I give “Red is for Rage” a 5 star rating.

BLOG TOUR STOPS: March 16th – April 17th

It has come to my attention that, because there are TWO companies arranging my blog tour(s), the schedule is not integrated, so I am retyping the COMBINED Teddy Rose Virtual Book Tour stops with the Free Book Dudes stops. They start tomorrow. The NEW book won’t be “free” for a while. It just won’t. However, the FIRST book in the series THE COLOR OF EVIL is where you should be starting, anyway. Check out the dedicated site at RedIsforRage.com and see what these bloggers say, as follows, beginning tomorrow:

1) March 16 – “The FlipSide of Julianne – Interview
2) March 18 – “My Cozie Corner” – Review
3) March 18 – Spotlight and Giveaway
4) March 19 – “Mallory Heart Reviews – Review
5) March 24 – “Krystal’s Enchanting Reads” – Review
6) March 25 – “Heather Books and Quilts”
7) March 29 – “The Cerebral Writer” – Interview with Yours Truly
8) March 29 – “Heather Saving” – Giveaway
9) March 30 – “Sylv-Jenkins.com – Review
10) April 4 – Maxine, “Between the Lines”
11) April 5 – Maxine, “Interview”
12) April 8 – Lisa, “Fiction Writing”
13) April 9 – Lisa, Interview
14) April 9 – Crystal, “I totally Paused”
15) April 10 – Makayla’s “Book Reviews” – Giveaway
16) April 11 – Amber “Peaceful Wishing”
17) April 12 – Bev at “The Wormhole” – Giveaway
18) April 15 – Kari at “From the TBR Pile”
19) April 17 – Christina at “Recent Reads” (none)

If this is not accurate, don’t blame me. I am simply trying to put all the book reviewers on ONE list. I thank you all for participating—especially those who had difficulty downloading the book electronically. (Boy! Can I relate to THAT!)

Was the BailOut A Good Thing? Matt Taibbi of “Rolling Stone” Weighs In

The excerpts below are from an article entitled “Secrets and Lies of the Bailout” by Matt Taibbi which appeared in the January 17, 2013, issue of Rolling Stone magazine. Taibbi has been a guest on Jon Stewart’s show and his investigative journalism is among the best in today’s business. Some of the points he makes deserve wider distribution, so here are a few quotes from the article that is subtitled: “The federal rescue of Wall Street didn’t fix the economy—it created a permanent bailout state based on a Ponzi-like confidence scheme. And the worst may be yet to come.”
Read on, Gentle Reader—if you dare! But buckle your seatbelts: it’s going to be a bumpy ride!
As Taibbi begins the article about the $700 billion in taxpayer money used to bail out Wall Street: “To listen to the bankers and their allies in Washington tell it, you’d think the bailout was the best thing to hit the American economy since the invention of the assembly line. Not only did it prevent another Great Depression, we’ve been told, but the money has all been paid back, and the government even made a profit. No harm, no foul—right! Wrong!
It was all a lie—one of the biggest and most elaborate falsehoods ever sold to the American people. We were told that the taxpayer was stepping in—only temporarily, mind you—to prop up the economy and save the world from financial catastrophe. What we actually ended up doing was the exact opposite: committing American taxpayers to permanent, blind support of an ungovernable, unregulatable, hyperconcentrated new financial system that exacerbates the greed and inequality that caused the crash, and forces Wall Street banks like Goldman Sachs and Citi-Group to increase risk rather than reduce it.” As Taibbi puts it, “We thought we were just letting a friend crash at the house for a few days, but we ended up with a family of hillbillies that moved in sleeping 9 to a bed and building a meth lab on the front lawn.”
Taibbi says, “Money wasn’t the only thing the government gave Wall Street” and cites the omnipresent lying and quotes former bailout Inspector General Neil Barofsky as calling it “the ultimate bait-and-switch.” The lies, he says, were the most important part of the mechanism. “The only reason investors haven’t run screaming from an obviously corrupt financial marketplace is because the government has gone to such extraordinary lengths to sell the narrative that the problems of 2008 have been fixed.” Says Taibbi, “Investors may not actually believe the lie, but they are impressed by how totally committed the government has been, from the very beginning, to selling itl”
Under the sub-heading: “They lied to pass the bail-out,” Taibbi mentions that George W. Bush ludicrously warned that Saddam was planning to send drones to spray poison over New York City to sell the Iraq War resolution. And, of course, anyone who has seen the Sean Penn movie about the “outing” of CIA agent Valeria Plane will remember the infamous plutonium rods used by the Republican administration as proof that Iraq had nuclear capability (or soon would have). Cautioning that, “it wasn’t like (Henry) Paulson could just go out and unilaterally commit trillions of public dollars to rescue Goldman Sachs and Citigroup from their own stupidity and bad management (although the government ended up doing just that, later on.”
Says Taibbi, on page 36 of his article, “At one meeting to discuss the original bailout bill—at 11 a.m. on September 18th, 2008, —Paulson actually told members of Congress that $5.5 trillion in wealth would disappear by 2 p.m. that day unless members took immediate action.” He added that the world economy would collapse “within 24 hours.” Paulson and Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke told Ohio Senator Sherrod Brown, “We need $700 billion, and we need it in 3 days.” The plan stipulated that Paulson could spend the money any way he chose without review “by any court or law or any administrative agency.” So, carte blanche, essentially, to do as he wished with the money.
The provision that got the bill passed (Emergency Economic Stabilization Act of 2008) was that the Treasury would buy up $700 billion of troubled mortgages from banks and modify them to help struggling homeowners. “That provision,” said Barofsky,” is what got the bill passed” on October 3, 2008. But, says Taibbi, “within days Section 109 was “unceremoniously ditched” and what was pitched as a bail-out of both banks and homeowners became a banks only operation.
Congress, feeling it had been lied to, put together a movement to cancel the remaining $350 billion of the TARP bailout. So, says Taibbi, “Bailout officials put together a proposal full of even bigger deceptions to get it passed a second time” beginning on January 12 and 15, 2009. Says Taibbi (and I’m skipping over portions of this long and detailed article), “A small slice of TARP was earmarked for foreclosure relief, but the resultant aid programs for homeowners turned out to be riddled with problems, for the perfectly logical reason that none of the bailout’s architects gave a shit about them.” Says Taibbi, “The promise of housing aid, in particular, turned out to be a paper tiger.”
As a person who attempted to use the TARP program to refinance a Chicago condo, I can attest to this. There are so many rules and regulations in place as to make the program virtually useless. After one full year (where I was assured it wasn’t MY credit that was the problem), I gave up and slunk away without a refinance in place and never heard from the eager Florida fellow again. Says Taibbi, “In fact, the amount of money that eventually got spent on homeowner aid now stands as a kind of grotesque joke compared to the Himalayan mountain range of cash that got moved onto the balance sheets of the big banks more or less instantly in the first months of the bailout.” For actual figures, at first, $50 billion was to help homeowners through HAMP; by 2010, the amount had shrunk to $30 billion and as of November, 2012, a mere $4 billion had been used for homeowner aid.
However, says Taibbi, “Obama’s HAMP program turns out to be one of the few bail-out promises that was even partially fulfilled. Virtually every other promise (Larry) Summers made in his letters turned out to be total bullshit.” (Larry Summers, you may remember, was the Harvard President who made some unfortunate remarks about women not being as able in math and the sciences as men that cost him his job; he subsequently became an economic advisor to Obama.) There was no monitoring attached to any aspect of the bailout and there never would be, says Taibbi:
“But even before Summers promised Congress that banks would be required to increase lending as a condition for receiving bailout funds, officials had already decided not to even ask the banks to use the money to increase lending. IN fact, they’d decided not to even ask banks to monitor what they did with the bailout money. Barofsky, the TARP inspector, asked Treasury to include a requirement forcing recipients to explain what they did with the taxpayer money. He was stunned when TARP administrator Kashkari rejected his proposal, telling him lenders would walk away from the program if they had to deal with too many conditions. ‘The banks won’t participate,’ Kashkari said.”
The first 9 bailout recipients were picked because of their size, not because of their economic “health” as was represented. Taibbi suggests that they have become, like AIG, “too big to fail.” The banks in question include all the Big Boys, even though Citi-Bank was deemed “likely to fail” at one point, and many could not pass the CAMELS test of solvency, which refers to Capital, Assets, Management, Earnings, Liquidity and Sensitivity to risk.
A telling paragraph:
“A month or so after the bailout team called the top 9 banks ‘healthy,’ it became clear that the biggest recipient, Citigroup, had actually flat-lined on the ER table. Only weeks after Paulson and Co. gave the firm $25 billion in TARP funds, Citi—which was in the midst of posting a quarterly loss of more than $17 billion—came back begging for more. In November, 2009, Citi received another $20 billion in cash and more than $300 billion in guarantees.”
Stress tests of the banks were then announced, and this telling passage results:
“Now, instead of using the bailouts as a clear-the-air moment, the government decided to double down on such fraud, awarding healthy ratings to these failing banks and even twisting its numerical audits and assessments to fit the cooked-up narrative. A major component of the original TARP bailout was a promise to ensure ‘full and regular stress tests’ of the bailout recipients. When Geithner announced his stress test plan in February, 2009, a reporter instantly blasted him with an obvious and damning question: Doesn’t the fact that you have to conduct these tests prove that bank regulators—who should know who is solvent and who isn’t—actually have no idea of who is solvent and who isn’t?”
From this point on, Taibbi outlines “meaningless parodies of oversight,” even citing a “SNL” skit. Bank of America (my bank) had a $50 billion dollar hole cut to $15 billion. Citigroup got its number slashed from $35 billion to $5.5 billion. Regulating the banks that took the bailout money, in other words, is a joke.
Quote:
“Through behavior like this, the government has turned the entire financial system into a kind of vast confidence game—a Ponzi-like scam in which the value of just about everything in the system is inflated because of the widespread belief that the government will now step in to prevent losses. Clearly, a government that’s already in debt over its eyes for the next million years does not have enough capital on hand to rescue every Citigroup or Regions Bank in the land should they all go bust tomorrow.”
Lies About Bonuses
“That executive bonuses on Wall Street were a political hot potato was obvious from the start. That’s why Summers, in saving the bailout from the ire of Congress, vowed to “limit executive compensation’ and devote public money to prevent another financial crisis And it’s true. TARP did bar recipients from a whole range of exorbitant pay practices, which is one reason the biggest banks, like Goldman Sachs, worked so quickly to repay their TARP loans. But there were all sorts of ways to get around the restrictions.”
Taibbi goes on to say that, “In one of the worst episodes, the notorious lenders Fannie Mae and Feddie Mac paid out more than $200 million in bonuses between 2008 and 2010, even though the firms (a) lost more than $100 billion in 2008 alone, and (b) required nearly $400 billion in federal assistance during the bailout period. One of the ways around the TARP bonus restrictions was to give executives long-term stock options. ‘An independent research firm asked to analyze the stock options for the New York Times found that the top 5 executives of each of the 18 biggest bailout recipients, received a total of $142 million in stocks and options.”…The value of these options has soared to $457 million, an average of $4 million per executive.
Lies About the Bailout Being Temporary
“What’s more, some parts of the bailout were designed to extend far into the future Companies like AIG, GM and Citigroup, for instance, were given tens of billions of deferred tax assets, allowing them to carry losses from 2008 forward to offset future profits and keep future tax bills down…Citigroup, all by itself, boasts more than $50 billion in deferred tax credits—which is how the firm managed to pay less in taxes in 2011 (it actually received a $144 million credit) than it paid in compensation that year to its since-ousted dingbat CEO, Vikram Pandit, who pocketed $14.9 million The bailout, in short, enabled the very banks and financial institutions that cratered the global economy to write off the losses from their toxic deals for years to come—further depriving the government of much-needed tax revenues it could have used to help homeowners and small businesses who were screwed over by the banks in the first place.”
“There is also the matter of the $7.7 trillion in secret emergency lending that the Fed okayed to Wall Street—loans that were only revealed to the public after Congress forced a one-time audit of the Federal Reserve. The result of this ‘secret audit’ did not come out until November, 2011, when Bloomberg Markets—which went to court to win the right to publish the data—revealed how the country’s biggest firms secretly received trillions in near-free money throughout the crisis.”
“By the end of 2008, Goldman Sachs had snarfed up $34 billion in loans and was paying an interest rate as low as just 0.01% for the cash infusion. Barofsky in his book Bailout: Paulson told him that Goldman was just ‘days from collapse” before the government’s gigantic infusion. Bernanke later admitted that “Goldman would have been the next to fall.”
Bank Executive Use Unfair Insider Trading Advantage
“Meanwhile, while officials were taking trillions in secret loans from the Feds, top officials were using their positions of influence and insider knowledge to buy up stock in their companies:
“Steven Friedman, a Goldman director who was chairman of the New York Fed, bought more than $4 million in Goldman stock in 5 weeks between Dec., 2008 and Jan., 2009. Vikram Pandit, Citigroup CEO, bought nearly $7 million in Citigroup stock, just as his bank was taking $99.5 billion in Fed loans. Jamie Dimon bought more than $11 million in Chase stock in early 2009, at a time when his firm was receiving as much as $60 billion in secret Fed loans.” (p. 40) In fact, at the end of 2011, the SEC sent letters to executives of: Citibank, Wells Fargo, Goldman Sachs, Chase and Bank of America asking them why they were not revealing their large purchases of stock at a time when their banks were receiving such large public bailouts. All 5 replied, absurdly, that this was “not material.”
Taibbi paragraph, p. 42:
“The implications here go far beyond the question of whether Dimon and Co. committed insider trading by buying and selling stock while they had access to material nonpublic information about the bailouts. The broader and more pressing concern is the clear implication that by failing to act, federal regulators have tacitly approved the nondisclosure. Instead of trusting the markets to do the right thing when provided with accurate information, the government has instead channeled Jack Nicholson and decided that the public ‘just can’t handle the truth.’”
“Bailout officials have spent years building the government’s great Implicit Guarantee to the biggest companies on Wall Street: we will be there for you always, no matter how much you screw up.”
Also, says Taibbi, “The big banks have grown even bigger and more unmanageable, making the economy far more concentrated and dangerous than it was before. America’s 6 largest banks: Bank of America, JP Morgan Chase, Citi-Group, Wells Fargo, Goldman Sachs, and Morgan Stanley, now have a combined 14,420 subsidiaries, making them so big as to be effectively beyond regulation.” Says Taibbi, “A recent study by the Kansas City Fed found that it would take 70,000 bank examiners to inspect such trillion-dollar banks with the same level of attention normally given to a community bank. (And, daughter of a community bank President, I remember how daunting the Bank Examiners’ visit always was.)
“The complexity is so overwhelming that no regulator can follow it well enough to regulate the way we need to,” says Senator Brown, who is drafting a bill to break up the megabanks (but also announced he is not running again since this article appeared in January, 2013).
Therefore, says Taibbi, “banks have made a dramatic move into riskier and more speculative investments, including everything from high-risk corporate bonds to mortgage-backed securities to payday loans, the sleaziest and most disreputable end of the financial system.”..The bailouts have brought us right back to where we started. Says World Bank Consultant Klaus Schaeck, “Government intervention has definitely resulted in increased risk.”
The closing paragraphs (3) of the article say this:
“And while the economy still mostly sucks overall, there’s never been a better time to be a Too Big to Fail bank. Wells Fargo reported a 3rd quarter profit of $5 billion last year. J.P. Morgan: $5.3 billion—roughly double what both banks earned in the 3rd quarter of 2006, at the height of the mortgage bubble. As the driver of their success, both banks cite strong performance in, you guessed it, the mortgage market.
So, what, exactly, did the bailout accomplish?
It built a banking system that discriminates against community banks, makes Too Big to Fail banks even Too Bigger to Failer, increases risk, discourages sound business lending and punishes savings by making it even easier and more profitable to chase high-yield investments than to compete for small depositors. The bailout has also made lying on behalf of our biggest and most corrupt banks the official policy of the U.S. government. And if any one of those banks fails, it will cause another financial crisis, meaning we’re essentially wedded to that policy for the rest of eternity—or at least until the markets call our bluff, which could happen any minute now.
Other than that, the bailout was a smashing success,” says Taibbi.

Thought for the Day

Me, pondering thoughts like these while listening to Ron Paul at the Rally for the Republic in Minneapolis’ Target Center, with Barry Goldwater Jr., Jessie Ventura and Tucker Carlson all onstage at once. After that, the German Libertarians libertarianism and legalizing hemp to me. In German. So, I’m thinking this little aphorism about life can be illustrated with just about anything, and this is it.

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnais…e jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles roll
ed into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full.. The students responded with a unanimous ‘yes.’

The professor then produced two Beers from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand.The students laughed..

‘Now,’ said the professor as the laughter subsided, ‘I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things—-your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions—-and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.. The sand is everything else—-the small stuff.

‘If you put the sand into the jar first,’ he continued, ‘there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life.

If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.

Spend time with your children. Spend time with your parents. Visit with grandparents. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and mow the lawn.

Take care of the golf balls first—-the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the Beer represented. The professor smiled and said, ‘I’m glad you asked.’ The Beer just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of Beers with a friend.

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