Load the Rock Salt

I thought I was at the wretched nadir when I began this blog. I should have realized that the world is far more base than even I could imagine.

See Matt Taibbi's piece in Rolling Stone: The Great American Bubble Machine.

When I was a kid, I once played near a junkyard (now known as an automotive recycling center). The owner was, well, meaner than a junkyard dog. He kept a shotgun with rock salt loaded shells handy to guard his precious junk. While not hit directly with the sodium pellets, a couple of pieces that scraped my leg managed to teach me about the sanctity of territory.

It is time to get out the rock salt. My guess is that more Americans own guns than pitchforks, the latter being a rather clumsy teaching instrument. The blast and instant creation of salt-rubbed wounds of the former instrument make it a far better tool for deterrence than any garden implement.

A couple of shells per Goldman employee would cure all the ills Taibbi wrote about in his screed of greed.

It is a waste of time to think our government would do anything to help us. No one, and I really mean not one, single person in the executive, legislative or judicial branch of government--or any real contender for any elected or appointed position of power in our government--would do anything else but wait for the calm after the protest storm to resume business as usual. There are long lines to get a chance to wear the public feedbag. So maybe it is time to take the protest directly to the thieves.

There is a cliche about fixing the economic mess that involves letting the people who buried the bodies fix the economy since they know where the bodies are buried. I have not heard anyone point out that the more important point is that these financial ghouls are the ones who know how to bury the bodies and are absolutely uninterested in unearthing their crimes. These ghouls only want to enlarge the economic cemetery.