"Brad Anderson" strikes me as a pretty normal, run-of-the-mill sort of name. The kind of normal name that Monty Python would use to humorous effect just because it was so ordinary, "Yeah, we get it, you're gluten-free, no one was going to force-feed you the cheesy bread, Brad!"
But don't let the name fool you, because that is the name of the cartoonist who produced a pretty mediocre comic called Marmaduke for over 50 years. And the only reason that I say mediocre is because I am a pretentious snob. And because I live within such a thick bubble of pretention I am looking for art and entertainment that cuts through my expectations, that informs, enlightens or subverts my expectations. But that is not a job that Marmaduke was ever applying for. At least not since the mid 50s.
I have to imagine that when he was introduced in 1954 the concept of a huge dog and how his size and personality would make every day events a little more humorous broke a kind of mold. A mule had started talking a few years before, but horses wouldn't start talking for another decade and cats wouldn't start eating lasagna for another 20 years. But Marmaduke never ever even spoke, except with his eyes and his tail.
I can't imagine that Brad ever had writers block. He could go anywhere or do anything and superimpose the idea of a giant Great Dane on the situation, draw it, and then go hit some golf balls or play with his kids. He had a large following of readers who just wanted to see what the big dog was up to today. There is little evidence that he ever had a crisis as an artist, that he ever felt that he needed to come up with something new and edgy; he was content to give a group of people what they wanted.
I'm not sure if that's noble, or lazy; but it was certainly lucrative. And as someone who has spent the last 10 years in publicly traded companies, there is also a part of me that years for that sort of contented zen of this cartoonist. The demands to not only grow the revenue this quarter but to grow it by more than anyone could reasonably expect gets tiresome after a while.
Why can't it be enough to just do my job really well? Why do I always have to be revolutionizing within a fail-fast paradigm? Why not just be consistently successful with time-tested methodology?
But the world moves too fast now for those kinds of sentiments. So maybe it's nice that Marmaduke stays around, just being big and in the way and comforting in his stability.
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
Saturday, September 5, 2015
What was to be A Long Walk down 20th.
On June 7th, 1494, Portugal and Spain signed a treaty that divided the non-Christian world between them. This was adorable, hilarious, and selfish. 94 years later, English fireships (presumably these were wooden boats that launched fire and not an unholy manifestation of hell's navy temporarily aligned with Elizabeth I) and Dutch flyboats (again, we presume these were actually floating boats and not holy manifestations of heaven's flying navy temporarily aligned with the Dutch Republic) destroyed the Spanish Armada and that was the last that anyone ever heard from Spain until Hemingway started drinking there and European Football became popular.
In July 1944, as the Second World War was fitfully winding down, it was time to divide the world up again, not to decide who would plunder which indigenous people's homes but to divide up the responsibility of ensuring global order and prosperity (Goldman and Sachs would come by later for the plundering). 730 delegates from all 44 allied nations met in a hotel in New Hampshire and established two main organizations
International Monetary Fund (IMF) tasked with fostering economic growth and cooperation by providing policy, advice, and financing to its members; and later, funding Mr. Phelp's Impossible Mission Force to defeat evil organizations and make Tom Cruise look taller than he is.
International Bank for Reconstruction and Development (IBRD) Which we know better today as part of the World Bank, tasked with providing loans to devoping nations and providing riots to cities where it has its meetings.
After these meetings, New Hampshire had largely served it's purpose, but it was decided we would keep it around for sentimental reasons.
I'm not sure that it's in the charter, but traditionally the IMF is headed by a European and the World Bank is headed by an American, but both headquarters are still in Washington D.C.
The IMF has a board of governors that is made up of a Governor from each country (except the smaller ones which gets a governor to represent several of the countries) as well as a Alternate Governor. For the US, the Governor is the Secretary of the Treasury, and the Alternate Governor is the Chair of the Federal Reserve.
And so, I tell you that story to tell you this one: when the IMF delivers a public report saying that the US Federal Reserve (whose friends call it The Fed not unlike Brittney Spear's ex-husband) should not raise interest rates, we are in part hearing about the recommendation following a thorough analysis, but mostly we are watching the theater of global finance.
The head of the IMF (Christine Lagarde) works for a board that the head of the Fed (Janet Yellen) sits on. Along with Angela Merkel (arguably the most powerful woman in the world: politically, physically, and magically) these are the two most influential women in global finance. They work 5 blocks from each other. It's a $6 to $7 dollar Uber trip down 20th street. If they don't talk to each other twice a week or more I would be shocked.
If Christine Lagarde really wants Janet Yellen to have her input she calls her; on her cell phone. The recommendation we read this week is driven as much by political exigencies as economic review, and the decision of the Fed should be largely independent of that.
In July 1944, as the Second World War was fitfully winding down, it was time to divide the world up again, not to decide who would plunder which indigenous people's homes but to divide up the responsibility of ensuring global order and prosperity (Goldman and Sachs would come by later for the plundering). 730 delegates from all 44 allied nations met in a hotel in New Hampshire and established two main organizations
International Monetary Fund (IMF) tasked with fostering economic growth and cooperation by providing policy, advice, and financing to its members; and later, funding Mr. Phelp's Impossible Mission Force to defeat evil organizations and make Tom Cruise look taller than he is.
International Bank for Reconstruction and Development (IBRD) Which we know better today as part of the World Bank, tasked with providing loans to devoping nations and providing riots to cities where it has its meetings.
After these meetings, New Hampshire had largely served it's purpose, but it was decided we would keep it around for sentimental reasons.
I'm not sure that it's in the charter, but traditionally the IMF is headed by a European and the World Bank is headed by an American, but both headquarters are still in Washington D.C.
The IMF has a board of governors that is made up of a Governor from each country (except the smaller ones which gets a governor to represent several of the countries) as well as a Alternate Governor. For the US, the Governor is the Secretary of the Treasury, and the Alternate Governor is the Chair of the Federal Reserve.
And so, I tell you that story to tell you this one: when the IMF delivers a public report saying that the US Federal Reserve (whose friends call it The Fed not unlike Brittney Spear's ex-husband) should not raise interest rates, we are in part hearing about the recommendation following a thorough analysis, but mostly we are watching the theater of global finance.
The head of the IMF (Christine Lagarde) works for a board that the head of the Fed (Janet Yellen) sits on. Along with Angela Merkel (arguably the most powerful woman in the world: politically, physically, and magically) these are the two most influential women in global finance. They work 5 blocks from each other. It's a $6 to $7 dollar Uber trip down 20th street. If they don't talk to each other twice a week or more I would be shocked.
If Christine Lagarde really wants Janet Yellen to have her input she calls her; on her cell phone. The recommendation we read this week is driven as much by political exigencies as economic review, and the decision of the Fed should be largely independent of that.
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
What was to be Self Respecting
On those nights that seem as dark within as without; when the dawn seems impossibly far away and you think there is no way you will make it alone, it is invaluable to know where a dozen warm friends can be purchased for 7.99 before tax.
I know there are other more mature forms of companionship that can be purchased, and look no judgement, but my personal proclivities don't include $200 an hour payments and a course of antibiotics.
So I pull up to the Krispy Kreme drive-thru window after 11 pm and I feign surprise that they are open. And they kindly explain how their drive thru is open 24 hours a day. And they humor this pleasant fiction of mine that I am not a repeat offender of good sense and healthy habits.
And similar fictions play out throughout the day all over the place because we live in a society that depends on people being responsible and reasonable, which we know is not always the case, but the continuation of these symbiotic relationships depends on our treating others as if they are responsible professionals and them treating us as if we are the same, and not emotional wrecks who are just waiting for the first opportunity to slink back home to eat donuts and read Alan Greenspan's new Janet Yellen fan fiction (bonus fan fiction content included at the end of the essay!*)
The 'clown' is the exception that proves the rule. The clown sacrifices the veneer of self-respect to entertain the crowd. This is an important and valuable role and over the centuries many of our clowns have advanced their art to make their entertainment poignant, informative, and even important.
But let's be very clear, Donald Trump is not one of those clowns. He is an oddly personable buffoon who has built his fortune by over-leveraging other people's money in real estate investments which have benefited from strong overall real estate markets but the over-leveraging is evidenced by his consistent declaring of bankruptcies (1991,1992, 2004, 2009). This is not an unusual or even deplorable approach, but it is consistent with the portrait of someone who garners capital and leverage by promising incredibly ambitious outcomes which he cannot control, and when he cannot deliver, it is not him who bears the brunt of the loss.
For most of the last decade he seems to have been engaged largely as a full-time entertainer where his bluster and outlandish antics have been rewarded with viewers and endorsement deals.
And now (if for no other reason than I don't want to scroll up and down when I proof read this) let's get to the point. It's fine to love Donald Trump, clowns are lovable. It's fine to agree with what he says (I don't make a habit of it, but it's fine). But there is no reason to believe that this particular clown can or will deliver on any of the promises he makes during his performances.
No doubt he will be entertaining, such is the nature of the clown, but let's remember Pagliacci and that "La commedia รจ finita!" when you give the clown a knife.
*Alan Greenspan's Janet Yellen fan fiction:
Alan's phone began to vibrate and the ringtone began, "I just met you, and this crazy, but here's my number...so call me maybe?" The photo of Janet's stern face stared back at him as he looked at the caller info, he swiftly slid his finger across the screen to begin the call.
" Hello Janet."
"Hello, Alan, I need your advice again."
"I know Janet. I'm here for you. I will always be here. For all of you."
I know there are other more mature forms of companionship that can be purchased, and look no judgement, but my personal proclivities don't include $200 an hour payments and a course of antibiotics.
So I pull up to the Krispy Kreme drive-thru window after 11 pm and I feign surprise that they are open. And they kindly explain how their drive thru is open 24 hours a day. And they humor this pleasant fiction of mine that I am not a repeat offender of good sense and healthy habits.
And similar fictions play out throughout the day all over the place because we live in a society that depends on people being responsible and reasonable, which we know is not always the case, but the continuation of these symbiotic relationships depends on our treating others as if they are responsible professionals and them treating us as if we are the same, and not emotional wrecks who are just waiting for the first opportunity to slink back home to eat donuts and read Alan Greenspan's new Janet Yellen fan fiction (bonus fan fiction content included at the end of the essay!*)
The 'clown' is the exception that proves the rule. The clown sacrifices the veneer of self-respect to entertain the crowd. This is an important and valuable role and over the centuries many of our clowns have advanced their art to make their entertainment poignant, informative, and even important.
But let's be very clear, Donald Trump is not one of those clowns. He is an oddly personable buffoon who has built his fortune by over-leveraging other people's money in real estate investments which have benefited from strong overall real estate markets but the over-leveraging is evidenced by his consistent declaring of bankruptcies (1991,1992, 2004, 2009). This is not an unusual or even deplorable approach, but it is consistent with the portrait of someone who garners capital and leverage by promising incredibly ambitious outcomes which he cannot control, and when he cannot deliver, it is not him who bears the brunt of the loss.
For most of the last decade he seems to have been engaged largely as a full-time entertainer where his bluster and outlandish antics have been rewarded with viewers and endorsement deals.
And now (if for no other reason than I don't want to scroll up and down when I proof read this) let's get to the point. It's fine to love Donald Trump, clowns are lovable. It's fine to agree with what he says (I don't make a habit of it, but it's fine). But there is no reason to believe that this particular clown can or will deliver on any of the promises he makes during his performances.
No doubt he will be entertaining, such is the nature of the clown, but let's remember Pagliacci and that "La commedia รจ finita!" when you give the clown a knife.
*Alan Greenspan's Janet Yellen fan fiction:
Alan's phone began to vibrate and the ringtone began, "I just met you, and this crazy, but here's my number...so call me maybe?" The photo of Janet's stern face stared back at him as he looked at the caller info, he swiftly slid his finger across the screen to begin the call.
" Hello Janet."
"Hello, Alan, I need your advice again."
"I know Janet. I'm here for you. I will always be here. For all of you."
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