why balk at dressed crab ?

Fittingly, Ronald Reagan was born in an apartment above a local bank in a red brick building in Tampico, Illinois. The nest he was spat into, then, was literally built on nickels, dimes and dollar bills.

As the 1970\’s collapsed under the weight of industrial action, the philanthropic lawyer from \”Hell\’s Kitchen\” paired up with the grocer\’s daughter from Grantham and distanced himself forever from those Dead End Kids. Hand in hand they prowled the international stage, dispensing theatrical one liners with the honed delivery of snake oil salesmen. Pyramid sellers. The applause, of course, was deafening. A veritable standing ovation. Emboldened, they schemed.

Thatcher curried domestic favour by repackaging publicly owned assets and selling them back at a premium. Agitated by costly advertising campaigns – paid for out the public purse, of course – a nation bickered and scratched itself bloody just to grab its rightful share.

\”But you already own a piece of the pie!\” bemused observers offered.

\”Well. Now I own it twice!\” the stampede cried.

Public housing; the railways; telecommunications. Name it. No corner was immune. Painted clowns juggling stock; blue chip investments for dummies.

This is what I remember, chiefly. Mind you. I was mostly otherwise preoccupied.

Together, the odd couple cooked up and served a new world economic model which continues to limp on – bandaged and freshly sutured – terminally beyond rehabilitation; haemorrhaging good money after bad.

Mrs. T was delighted. Ronald McDonald got the bone.

The dish they contrived, a nouvelle cuisine concoction of little substance, reaped dividends only for the most acutely self-serving. A recipe for disaster.

As was reported earlier this month in the international press, upwards of 10,000 still on the payroll of the bankrupt investment bank, Lehman Brothers, stand to profit from a bonus pool valued at approximately $2.5 billion. Barclays Bank, the British financial institution which stepped in to salvage the mess, confirmed the rumour.

Before Reagan came to power, Super Tax on the wealthiest of US citizens – those earning in excess of $1 million per annum – stood, as it had without significant cause for repeal since the 1950\’s and 60\’s, between 85 – 90%; coinciding with unprecedented rates of fiscal growth. Today, as the world totters on the brink of a sucking economic black hole, that rate currently stands at less than 35%.

A rudimentary pattern begins to emerge. Eat the rich.

At the very least, fire up the pot and send out some seasoned invitations. illustration by ib.


0 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

punishment exercise, weblog version

Hello. I am still breathing, if you wondered at this latest absence. I needed to step back from the drop awhile, the empty space between the rails, to let the game play out. It has not been pretty for