I just learned of the unfortunate passing of Joe http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifBattipaglia. He passed away in mid-April, from a heart attack. Joe was beloved in the financial community and the odds are good that if you were at all a regular watcher of financial shows over the past decade you probably saw him on TV.
He always made his case vigorously, but I can't remember even one time I saw him yell at or belittle anyone on one of those shows. His facts spoke for themselves.
Doing a little research online I have since learned a good deal more about Joe. He was a remarkable person in many ways. According to his CNBC guest bio he "was the son of a sanitation worker, grew up in Queens, only child, first in family to attend college. Graduate, Phi Beta Kappa, economics, Boston College, 1976. Played rugby, lacrosse. MBA from Wharton, 1978. Market strategist (private client group) at Stifel Nicolaus, began career as analyst at Exxon and Elkins & Co. Joined Gruntal & Co., where he spent 18 years. Chaired investment policy at Ryan, Beck & Co. Former trustee of the Securities Industry Institute ... Married 1980, wife Mary Ann. Sons Matthew (Dartmouth) and Jeff (U.S. Naval Academy) played college football; also has daughter, Christen. Helped get employees out of One Liberty Plaza, across from WTC, on 9/11. Frequent guest of Larry Kudlow, Fox Business. Suffered heart attack in Georgia, where he had gone to speak at investors luncheon. Recalled in memoriam as "gentle giant," "very generous guy."'
That's a lot for any person, especially one who went so young, 55. He was also 6'7" and 300 pounds. He cut an imposing figure, I suppose.
I knew him personally, not well, I need to add. But I did know him. When we were starting Intelligent Investing at Forbes.com three years ago there was this idea that we would have an "Investor Team" of financial wizards and superstars that we would use in regular rotation for our stories. Build a repertoire of experts, in a way.
The only problem was we had no real experts or stars. I didn't know where to exactly begin recruiting such a team, either. But the fact was, we needed some names, it was what the entire thing kind of was premised upon.
Somehow Joe Battipaglia's name came up. He was extremely well known among those who follow the markets. Maybe not known to everyone on the street, but definitely known to everyone on The Street.
We had little time to lose. We had to begin cranking out stories, and still did not really have our experts. I had a fairly lengthy list of people who hadn't called me back when I asked for their help. The list of those who would help, though, was much, much smaller.
So I, out of the blue, called Joe. I didn't know him. He sure did not know me. Having seen him on TV I was, to be truthful, a bit intimidated. I expected to leave a message and never hear from him again, as had already happened so many times.
Instead, to my surprise, I got him on the phone. I told him about what we were doing, or trying to do, and who I was. I said the word "Forbes" as much as I could to give myself some credibility by association.
After about 25 seconds of my spiel Joe said he would do it. Suddenly, I had a source for one of our inaugural stories, and a big one at that. I believe it was about the future price of oil a hot topic, then as now. I nervously took notes, and he slowly went over every point a few times, patiently. His voice was a rumbling basso profundo, but easy to understand. All in all I interviewed him for maybe 10 minutes that day, but he gave me a lot to work with. I was profoundly grateful.
Because he has so impressed me with his generosity of time and spirit I made sure to call him back before the final draft went online. I went over each of his points, making sure I had the facts just right. Believe me, this can be a dicey time. Sources can often get shockingly prickly when you read back to them what they actually said to you. Joe merely listened patiently, made a few additional supporting points, to make sure I really understood it, and then when it was over said something like "yeah, I think you got it."
The story ran, and we were on our way with a great new channel on the Forbes.com website.
The truth is I think I maybe interviewed Joe one additional time after that. He was busy, always going to conferences. I could often get him on the phone, though, even if he was just telling me no. "You know Dave, I would really love to, but things have just been so crazy here. But please keep me in mind for next time."
I did, and even if he kept not being able to do it I always left those little phone chats feeling pretty good. Here he was, a big man, in his field, in so many ways, but he always had the time to at least take the call.
I never met Joe in person. I think I told him that if I ever came down to Philly I would like to say hi. He agreed, if I am remembering correctly, that that would be nice.
I can't claim some great friendship with him, that would not be honest. But he was a friend to me, a stranger, when I really needed it. He was a good person, a very smart Wall Street analyst, and I am very sorry to learn that he is no longer with us.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
The REAL difference between New York and Kentucky
A year ago, while we still lived in New York, I took a job as an editor for a start-up financial newsletter. It was run by a very successful investor and former hedge fund manager I had originally met through Forbes. He was a dynamic person, and lots of fun to be around and I was happy for the job. It was hard work, and I wasn't necessarily a perfect fit for what he wanted, it turned out, but I gave it my best.
In the end he needed someone who was far more of an investment guru than I was, with more ability to break down balance sheets in order to unlock the true potential of stocks. I had little knowledge about this process. My picks tended to be pretty predictable, and not all that exciting.
Not that I was wrong all the time, I wasn't. I read through the reports they already had on file and said that Apple, for example, was a "buy" at $260, it's now at $335. The iPad was brand new and all the analysis I read pointed to it potentially being a smash product on the order of the iPhone, although many poo-pooed that notion a year ago. Worth remembering: the iPhone was also poo-pooed when it came out. I saw parallels. Honestly, Apple still might be a buy, as it's price-to-earnings ratio is only 15, but I digress. (Another digression: it's extremely hard to consistently beat the market over time.)
Whatever, I didn't buy Apple that day, because I'm really not comfortable investing any real money into individual stocks. I guess that's why I'm not already retired in the Caribbean sipping daiquiris, like Dan Ackroyd at the end of Trading Places.
And none of these points are why I'm writing this anyway.
One day my new boss took me out to lunch at a local Pannera. He generously offered to pay for my soup and salad, as well as his own. This being New York these came out to something like $25, by the way. But pay it he did, which I really appreciated.
When he paid, I noticed, he did it with an American Express card. Then I looked still more closely. It wasn't just any American Express card, it was The American Express Black Card.
Something clicked in my memory. The Black Card, I thought, isn't that what, like, Jay-Z uses?
In other words, it is for the truly big money.
That night, out of curiosity, I looked up all I could find about The Black Card. It turns out to have an interesting story. The Black Card (the real name of which is actually The Centurion Card, but no one calls it that) was actually a myth before it was a product. Once upon a time the highest, most-prestigious Amex card you could get was the Platinum card. Which is plenty prestigious, believe me.
Still, the world being what it is, the Universe's various Masters started to say they had heard tell of still another card, that was even more rare, and exclusive. The Black Card. You couldn't ask for it, they could only give it to you. If they felt like it. Maybe.
But at this point there was no Black Card, it was just a neurotic fantasy playing out in the minds of pampered heiresses and Wall Street hard-ons in order for them, somehow, to still feel inferior.
Of course American Express eventually got wind of this. I imagine when they first heard the story their top execs probably laughed their asses off and then, in mid-laugh, became dead serious. Holy crap!, they almost certainly shouted, we've got to introduce this Black Card! The marketing has already been done for us, by the most powerful people in the world! Then they went back to laughing their asses off and eating money sandwiches.
And so the Black Card was released. In a canny move Amex kept it invitation only. Today you can only be invited to get a Black Card if you already own a Platinum Card, are crazy rich, have great credit and, presumably, spend just wheelbarrows full of money all the time.
So, THAT was the card my new boss used to pay for our lunch at Pannera, that day, a year ago.
Man, I thought, this dude is seriously loaded. Which I already kind of knew anyway, but this proved it.
Not long after that I overheard a conversation in the office whereby my boss talked about how he had to pick up his laundry, either within the building or perhaps through delivery. He didn't have the ability to do laundry in his, presumably, posh, possibly penthouse-level, apartment.
Fast forward one year later. We live in Louisville, Kentucky. We do not have a Black, Platinum, Gold or even Green Amex Card. Yet we do have a clothes washer and dryer in our apartment, unlike my old boss. That we have this is considered so unremarkable no one ever remarks upon it. We spend a grand total of $905 a month in rent, which is high for here.
And THAT is the real difference between New York and Kentucky.
In the end he needed someone who was far more of an investment guru than I was, with more ability to break down balance sheets in order to unlock the true potential of stocks. I had little knowledge about this process. My picks tended to be pretty predictable, and not all that exciting.
Not that I was wrong all the time, I wasn't. I read through the reports they already had on file and said that Apple, for example, was a "buy" at $260, it's now at $335. The iPad was brand new and all the analysis I read pointed to it potentially being a smash product on the order of the iPhone, although many poo-pooed that notion a year ago. Worth remembering: the iPhone was also poo-pooed when it came out. I saw parallels. Honestly, Apple still might be a buy, as it's price-to-earnings ratio is only 15, but I digress. (Another digression: it's extremely hard to consistently beat the market over time.)
Whatever, I didn't buy Apple that day, because I'm really not comfortable investing any real money into individual stocks. I guess that's why I'm not already retired in the Caribbean sipping daiquiris, like Dan Ackroyd at the end of Trading Places.
And none of these points are why I'm writing this anyway.
One day my new boss took me out to lunch at a local Pannera. He generously offered to pay for my soup and salad, as well as his own. This being New York these came out to something like $25, by the way. But pay it he did, which I really appreciated.
When he paid, I noticed, he did it with an American Express card. Then I looked still more closely. It wasn't just any American Express card, it was The American Express Black Card.
Something clicked in my memory. The Black Card, I thought, isn't that what, like, Jay-Z uses?
In other words, it is for the truly big money.
That night, out of curiosity, I looked up all I could find about The Black Card. It turns out to have an interesting story. The Black Card (the real name of which is actually The Centurion Card, but no one calls it that) was actually a myth before it was a product. Once upon a time the highest, most-prestigious Amex card you could get was the Platinum card. Which is plenty prestigious, believe me.
Still, the world being what it is, the Universe's various Masters started to say they had heard tell of still another card, that was even more rare, and exclusive. The Black Card. You couldn't ask for it, they could only give it to you. If they felt like it. Maybe.
But at this point there was no Black Card, it was just a neurotic fantasy playing out in the minds of pampered heiresses and Wall Street hard-ons in order for them, somehow, to still feel inferior.
Of course American Express eventually got wind of this. I imagine when they first heard the story their top execs probably laughed their asses off and then, in mid-laugh, became dead serious. Holy crap!, they almost certainly shouted, we've got to introduce this Black Card! The marketing has already been done for us, by the most powerful people in the world! Then they went back to laughing their asses off and eating money sandwiches.
And so the Black Card was released. In a canny move Amex kept it invitation only. Today you can only be invited to get a Black Card if you already own a Platinum Card, are crazy rich, have great credit and, presumably, spend just wheelbarrows full of money all the time.
So, THAT was the card my new boss used to pay for our lunch at Pannera, that day, a year ago.
Man, I thought, this dude is seriously loaded. Which I already kind of knew anyway, but this proved it.
Not long after that I overheard a conversation in the office whereby my boss talked about how he had to pick up his laundry, either within the building or perhaps through delivery. He didn't have the ability to do laundry in his, presumably, posh, possibly penthouse-level, apartment.
Fast forward one year later. We live in Louisville, Kentucky. We do not have a Black, Platinum, Gold or even Green Amex Card. Yet we do have a clothes washer and dryer in our apartment, unlike my old boss. That we have this is considered so unremarkable no one ever remarks upon it. We spend a grand total of $905 a month in rent, which is high for here.
And THAT is the real difference between New York and Kentucky.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
I Was A Teenaged Randian
Today, upon the celebration of my 39th birthday I though it appropriate to wade through some old writings and reveal perhaps one of the most shame-inducing things I have ever written. But, first, a little background setup is in order.
As 2011 moves past its first third it has become more and more apparent that the nation as a whole is in the grips of a new wave of influence from The Scientific Objectivist herself, Ayn Rand. Rep. Paul Ryan--who resembles no one so much, in manner and look, as Gabe from The Office--proudly proclaims himself a follower of the writer and philosopher. Copies of her books continue to sell briskly and an Atlas Shrugged movie has recently been unleashed in theaters. In short Ayn Rand, almost 30 years after her death, is having a bit of a moment. Her philosophy has struck a chord with Americans who fear the incoming wave of still more moderateness from our already hopelessly modest president. This, they have thundered, cannot stand. They cry for the rights of the individual, the right to assert their greatness, their right to pay fewer and fewer taxes in the name of fiscal balance and responsibility.
Forgive me for perhaps sounding a bit smug but of course Ayn Rand is old news to me. Way, way back when, in 1988, I myself had a bit of a personal Ayn Rand moment. In fact I spent much of the first half of junior year walking around with my head blown by this idea of self-reliance and unfettered genius. After all, who would know more about self reliance than a pampered, coddled suburban Jew, who had everything he could virtually ever want literally given to him? But that mattered not. I looked around at my fatted calflike neighbors, with their lazy intellects and perfect yard-induced complacency and saw right through them. None of you, I thought, have ever stood up for what you truly believed. None of you, I again said to myself, again silently, have any of the guts you truly need to change this world. I would shrug my shoulders, perhaps in an Atlas-like fashion?, and look down my nose at them still more. Failures, I ruminated, the entire lot of you.
Of course I am not the first to wrap my cloak of suburban anomie around the first handy philosophy I could muster. And not long after that I found myself attached, tic-like, to yet another, and greater siren call, The Grateful Dead. Mind equally blown, but in a big party full of stoned hippies, businessmen and hippie businessmen. Of the two mind blowers, I add, perhaps unnecessarily, the latter was a hell of a lot more fun, and a hell of a lot less lonely. But, as they say, I digress.
I had been given a copy of The Fountainhead during a teen tour I had taken during the summer of 1988 in Israel. (On a side-note one of my favorite fellow teen tourists that summer was Roger Madoff, nephew of the justly hated Ponzi-schemer, Bernie Madoff. Talk about the rights of an individual to do exactly what they want!)
The corrupter of my young mind was my counselor Alan, another suburban Jew, of course, except he was in college and knew a couple of Crosby, Stills & Nash songs on the guitar. You know, he was awesome. I don't know what prompted the conversation, but at some point Alan presented me with his idea of the individual and his supremacy.
"Think about it Dave," he said. "Has ANYTHING great ever come from a committee? Can you perform surgery by committee? What about all the greatest inventions? Were any of these done by committee? The light-bulb? The telegraph? No, these are all things best done by one person leading the way, alone."
I thought for a moment about Alan's surgery example, then answered. "Well, Alan, what about the research that went into the medical knowledge that lead to the surgery. Often that is done by groups and even teams. And during surgery itself there is an entire team of people working with the surgeon, like nurses and anesthesiologists, who are just as important, in their way, as the surgeon."
Alan pondered this for a few seconds and, if memory serves, even granted I may have had a point. Despite this he still saw fit to hand me his copy of The Fountainhead, telling me to just check it out.
It was a big book, 740 pages, or so. This alone meant a lot to me at the time. Up until that point the biggest book I had ever read was The Sword Of Shannarah, a Tolkien-esque ripoff that held me spell bound in sixth grade. And let's be frank here, bigness is important when you really don't have any real experience or knowledge in the world of literature. I hefted the soft-covered text. Hmm, I thought. It's about the size of a brick. I should read this.
My second thought was, man, this is going to take up a lot of room in my bag. But screw it, knowledge is power, and therefore worth the work.
Later that night I cracked the spine and immediately was captivated. Howard Roark, my god, who WAS this guy? Where did he get off taking down The Parthenon like he did, and right in front of his mendacious architecture instructor? Then Roark marched off into a sunset of self-assuredness, just a few minutes before he was to graduate from architecture school. But Roark just didn't care about the phony pantomime of graduation. He only cared about the little amount of knowledge to be gleaned from the inferior hacks and losers that were there to instruct him.
After this big entrance Roark then went to work in a rock quarry, all on his own terms. And this was all in, like, the first 25 pages!
Now this, I thought, is a man. He lives by his own rules, he sticks to his guns no matter what, he doesn't let anyone get in his way, he believes in himself without even the shadow of a doubt. He is content to suffer and get passed by without compromising himself or his art. People can either see him for what he is or leave him, he just didn't care. He didn't hate anyone, he didn't talk down to anyone, he wasn't bitter about the chances lesser talents got, he simply focused on what brought him joy and wouldn't let anyone sully the purity of his work.
Now that I read this again it still seems attractive. And I still see how elements of it remain with me today.
But along with all that good stuff, came a sort of almost super-human callousness. To show compassion for those who aren't as talented, who aren't as supremely self-assured, this concept doesn't exist to Howard Roark. The idea of sharing in the bounty of a wealthy society, understanding that some simply do not get the opportunities others get, this idea is also seen as completely without merit to Roark, and by extension Rand. To understand that reason is not always objective, but fallible, that successful people are not necessarily better people, again there is no place for these ideas in Rand's universe.
Nor, for that matter, is there any other concept of virtue at play here other than the self-realization of the individual. In The Fountainhead Roark goes on a diatribe at one point about how nature is simply there as a tool for man's use. Trees only have value in as much as they can be split and made into beams. And to attribute any sort of feeling of greater respect or care for the natural world, apart from what it can do for us, is simply a romantic, pointless and trifling waste of time. This idea literally could not even occur to Roark.
Of course I realized all this only later. Because I loved The Fountainhead. I was with Roark ever step of the way. I jeered his seeming nemesi, Ellsworth Toohey and that brown-noser Peter Keating. I especially loathed Keating, that sellout. Toohey, even at 16, simply seemed like a cartoonish weirdo and hard to actually hate.
But Keating. If you haven't read the book Keating is cast as a kind of anti-Roark. They are classmates at the architecture school Roark leaves. While Roark struggles Keating is the perennial golden boy, graceful, ingratiating and easy to be around. He will conform to what you want him to be if it helps him climb the ladder. A modest talent he gets by simply by being good looking, malleable and popular. And while I personally may have been pretty malleable I sure didn't feel like I was popular or all that good looking. So, you know, fuck that guy!
As the book progresses Roark struggles, but eventually begins to build a client base. He even turns down jobs, no matter how much money he needs, if it's wrong. In one example he refuses to build a home for an old man, because the man wanted it to be based on a sort of plantation that he looked at as a boy and felt excluded from. Roark, in a moment of nice insight, asks that, really, is all you want to stay locked in the battles and mindset you had as a boy? Is your true mission simply to remain stalemated in that time, only from a different perspective? Where is the you in what should be your home?
Like I said, Roark/Rand was not all bad.
And over time Roark's star, by dint of unshakable self-confidence and nonstop work, starts to rise. And in that same time Keating begins to age like the picture of Dorian Gray. He is miserable in his work, his seemingly perfect like starts to unravel, what he really loves to do is paint canvasses. So he takes it up again, as a bit of a hobby, but it's too late. He sold out, and in Rand's world, once you do that you really can't get unsold again. (Again, these ideas, right or wrong have certainly influenced me, for better or worse.)
Needless to say the book meant a lot to me, even as I started to drift from it over time, perhaps inevitably. Rand seemed to me a bit of a fad, something people went through. And then two signal events happened that estranged me from much of what she stands for and her philosophy.
First I reread the book when I was about 25 and I fought it a dreadful, tedious work. The characters are at best cardboard approximations of people. The prose disastrous, the philosophizing tedious. As a fan of great writing the mere fact of her prose hackery did a lot to diminish Rand in my eyes.
Then, a few years later, I started to see Rand's mantle appropriated by people with whom I had very little, if anything, in common. People who used her name as an excuse to gut desperately needed programs for those people among us unlucky enough to have been born very poor. Rand would simply say it's their fault if they are born poor and remain that way as adults. They didn't try hard enough, she'd argue. They are lazy, and in a sense, bad people.
But when my wife told me about kids in the Bronx who want to go to school and learn but their parents are either absent or on drugs ... Or there weren't enough books, yes, not enough books. Or the building they attend school in is crumbling around them, or actually making them sick. At that point I realized that Rand's intellectual purity was no match for the problems of the real world.
When I heard Rand's name used to justify what amounted to me as an undeclared war on our nation's poor I realized I could never identify in any real way with her or Scientific Objectivism. To buy into this philosophy and really live it you have to be blinded to anything subtle or complex about the root causes and solutions to poverty. You have to love a one size fits all answer to everything, which is that gifted people are serving the ultimate moral good by just doing as they damn well please at all times and somehow this benefits society. And the more they do as they damn well please the better off society will be.
Really? Well, I don't know how gifted the financial industry is but it's pretty much done as it damn well pleased over the past 30 years and where has it gotten us? We are a stagnating nation, where the rich already live in Gault's Gulch, and didn't even have to leave the country to get there. America, as it is today, is a land where the rules literally and figuratively do not apply to the rich and super-rich. And we are all, the rest of the nation, poorer for it in every way.
Wow, all that and I didn't even get to the main point of this essay. And this is, to reprint, for your amusement my college admission essay where I talk about what a great Scientific Objectivist I am. And to think, I imagined this would get me into Wesleyan.
As 2011 moves past its first third it has become more and more apparent that the nation as a whole is in the grips of a new wave of influence from The Scientific Objectivist herself, Ayn Rand. Rep. Paul Ryan--who resembles no one so much, in manner and look, as Gabe from The Office--proudly proclaims himself a follower of the writer and philosopher. Copies of her books continue to sell briskly and an Atlas Shrugged movie has recently been unleashed in theaters. In short Ayn Rand, almost 30 years after her death, is having a bit of a moment. Her philosophy has struck a chord with Americans who fear the incoming wave of still more moderateness from our already hopelessly modest president. This, they have thundered, cannot stand. They cry for the rights of the individual, the right to assert their greatness, their right to pay fewer and fewer taxes in the name of fiscal balance and responsibility.
Forgive me for perhaps sounding a bit smug but of course Ayn Rand is old news to me. Way, way back when, in 1988, I myself had a bit of a personal Ayn Rand moment. In fact I spent much of the first half of junior year walking around with my head blown by this idea of self-reliance and unfettered genius. After all, who would know more about self reliance than a pampered, coddled suburban Jew, who had everything he could virtually ever want literally given to him? But that mattered not. I looked around at my fatted calflike neighbors, with their lazy intellects and perfect yard-induced complacency and saw right through them. None of you, I thought, have ever stood up for what you truly believed. None of you, I again said to myself, again silently, have any of the guts you truly need to change this world. I would shrug my shoulders, perhaps in an Atlas-like fashion?, and look down my nose at them still more. Failures, I ruminated, the entire lot of you.
Of course I am not the first to wrap my cloak of suburban anomie around the first handy philosophy I could muster. And not long after that I found myself attached, tic-like, to yet another, and greater siren call, The Grateful Dead. Mind equally blown, but in a big party full of stoned hippies, businessmen and hippie businessmen. Of the two mind blowers, I add, perhaps unnecessarily, the latter was a hell of a lot more fun, and a hell of a lot less lonely. But, as they say, I digress.
I had been given a copy of The Fountainhead during a teen tour I had taken during the summer of 1988 in Israel. (On a side-note one of my favorite fellow teen tourists that summer was Roger Madoff, nephew of the justly hated Ponzi-schemer, Bernie Madoff. Talk about the rights of an individual to do exactly what they want!)
The corrupter of my young mind was my counselor Alan, another suburban Jew, of course, except he was in college and knew a couple of Crosby, Stills & Nash songs on the guitar. You know, he was awesome. I don't know what prompted the conversation, but at some point Alan presented me with his idea of the individual and his supremacy.
"Think about it Dave," he said. "Has ANYTHING great ever come from a committee? Can you perform surgery by committee? What about all the greatest inventions? Were any of these done by committee? The light-bulb? The telegraph? No, these are all things best done by one person leading the way, alone."
I thought for a moment about Alan's surgery example, then answered. "Well, Alan, what about the research that went into the medical knowledge that lead to the surgery. Often that is done by groups and even teams. And during surgery itself there is an entire team of people working with the surgeon, like nurses and anesthesiologists, who are just as important, in their way, as the surgeon."
Alan pondered this for a few seconds and, if memory serves, even granted I may have had a point. Despite this he still saw fit to hand me his copy of The Fountainhead, telling me to just check it out.
It was a big book, 740 pages, or so. This alone meant a lot to me at the time. Up until that point the biggest book I had ever read was The Sword Of Shannarah, a Tolkien-esque ripoff that held me spell bound in sixth grade. And let's be frank here, bigness is important when you really don't have any real experience or knowledge in the world of literature. I hefted the soft-covered text. Hmm, I thought. It's about the size of a brick. I should read this.
My second thought was, man, this is going to take up a lot of room in my bag. But screw it, knowledge is power, and therefore worth the work.
Later that night I cracked the spine and immediately was captivated. Howard Roark, my god, who WAS this guy? Where did he get off taking down The Parthenon like he did, and right in front of his mendacious architecture instructor? Then Roark marched off into a sunset of self-assuredness, just a few minutes before he was to graduate from architecture school. But Roark just didn't care about the phony pantomime of graduation. He only cared about the little amount of knowledge to be gleaned from the inferior hacks and losers that were there to instruct him.
After this big entrance Roark then went to work in a rock quarry, all on his own terms. And this was all in, like, the first 25 pages!
Now this, I thought, is a man. He lives by his own rules, he sticks to his guns no matter what, he doesn't let anyone get in his way, he believes in himself without even the shadow of a doubt. He is content to suffer and get passed by without compromising himself or his art. People can either see him for what he is or leave him, he just didn't care. He didn't hate anyone, he didn't talk down to anyone, he wasn't bitter about the chances lesser talents got, he simply focused on what brought him joy and wouldn't let anyone sully the purity of his work.
Now that I read this again it still seems attractive. And I still see how elements of it remain with me today.
But along with all that good stuff, came a sort of almost super-human callousness. To show compassion for those who aren't as talented, who aren't as supremely self-assured, this concept doesn't exist to Howard Roark. The idea of sharing in the bounty of a wealthy society, understanding that some simply do not get the opportunities others get, this idea is also seen as completely without merit to Roark, and by extension Rand. To understand that reason is not always objective, but fallible, that successful people are not necessarily better people, again there is no place for these ideas in Rand's universe.
Nor, for that matter, is there any other concept of virtue at play here other than the self-realization of the individual. In The Fountainhead Roark goes on a diatribe at one point about how nature is simply there as a tool for man's use. Trees only have value in as much as they can be split and made into beams. And to attribute any sort of feeling of greater respect or care for the natural world, apart from what it can do for us, is simply a romantic, pointless and trifling waste of time. This idea literally could not even occur to Roark.
Of course I realized all this only later. Because I loved The Fountainhead. I was with Roark ever step of the way. I jeered his seeming nemesi, Ellsworth Toohey and that brown-noser Peter Keating. I especially loathed Keating, that sellout. Toohey, even at 16, simply seemed like a cartoonish weirdo and hard to actually hate.
But Keating. If you haven't read the book Keating is cast as a kind of anti-Roark. They are classmates at the architecture school Roark leaves. While Roark struggles Keating is the perennial golden boy, graceful, ingratiating and easy to be around. He will conform to what you want him to be if it helps him climb the ladder. A modest talent he gets by simply by being good looking, malleable and popular. And while I personally may have been pretty malleable I sure didn't feel like I was popular or all that good looking. So, you know, fuck that guy!
As the book progresses Roark struggles, but eventually begins to build a client base. He even turns down jobs, no matter how much money he needs, if it's wrong. In one example he refuses to build a home for an old man, because the man wanted it to be based on a sort of plantation that he looked at as a boy and felt excluded from. Roark, in a moment of nice insight, asks that, really, is all you want to stay locked in the battles and mindset you had as a boy? Is your true mission simply to remain stalemated in that time, only from a different perspective? Where is the you in what should be your home?
Like I said, Roark/Rand was not all bad.
And over time Roark's star, by dint of unshakable self-confidence and nonstop work, starts to rise. And in that same time Keating begins to age like the picture of Dorian Gray. He is miserable in his work, his seemingly perfect like starts to unravel, what he really loves to do is paint canvasses. So he takes it up again, as a bit of a hobby, but it's too late. He sold out, and in Rand's world, once you do that you really can't get unsold again. (Again, these ideas, right or wrong have certainly influenced me, for better or worse.)
Needless to say the book meant a lot to me, even as I started to drift from it over time, perhaps inevitably. Rand seemed to me a bit of a fad, something people went through. And then two signal events happened that estranged me from much of what she stands for and her philosophy.
First I reread the book when I was about 25 and I fought it a dreadful, tedious work. The characters are at best cardboard approximations of people. The prose disastrous, the philosophizing tedious. As a fan of great writing the mere fact of her prose hackery did a lot to diminish Rand in my eyes.
Then, a few years later, I started to see Rand's mantle appropriated by people with whom I had very little, if anything, in common. People who used her name as an excuse to gut desperately needed programs for those people among us unlucky enough to have been born very poor. Rand would simply say it's their fault if they are born poor and remain that way as adults. They didn't try hard enough, she'd argue. They are lazy, and in a sense, bad people.
But when my wife told me about kids in the Bronx who want to go to school and learn but their parents are either absent or on drugs ... Or there weren't enough books, yes, not enough books. Or the building they attend school in is crumbling around them, or actually making them sick. At that point I realized that Rand's intellectual purity was no match for the problems of the real world.
When I heard Rand's name used to justify what amounted to me as an undeclared war on our nation's poor I realized I could never identify in any real way with her or Scientific Objectivism. To buy into this philosophy and really live it you have to be blinded to anything subtle or complex about the root causes and solutions to poverty. You have to love a one size fits all answer to everything, which is that gifted people are serving the ultimate moral good by just doing as they damn well please at all times and somehow this benefits society. And the more they do as they damn well please the better off society will be.
Really? Well, I don't know how gifted the financial industry is but it's pretty much done as it damn well pleased over the past 30 years and where has it gotten us? We are a stagnating nation, where the rich already live in Gault's Gulch, and didn't even have to leave the country to get there. America, as it is today, is a land where the rules literally and figuratively do not apply to the rich and super-rich. And we are all, the rest of the nation, poorer for it in every way.
Wow, all that and I didn't even get to the main point of this essay. And this is, to reprint, for your amusement my college admission essay where I talk about what a great Scientific Objectivist I am. And to think, I imagined this would get me into Wesleyan.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Notes From A Newsroom Pt. 6--Food
(Remember all these people below, and in all the other entries before, wrote in expecting that a TV show would take up their cause. To me that is the best part of this whole thing. And here we bring our "book" to a close with all the things people wrote in about food.)
FOOD:
Why does everyone want to sue? Besides, didn’t you see “Supersize Me”
From: xxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com
I recently went to McDonald’s and purchased a #7 from the breakfast menu. After receiving my food I went home to enjoy my purchase. While I was eating my sandwich I discovered a headless roach in it. The roach seemed as if it was cooked along with my food and I bit its head off. Help me. What can be done? Can this be a possible law suit?
************************************************************************
Another one who missed “Supersize Me.”
From: xxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com
I recently went ot McDonald’s and purchased a #7 from the breakfast menu. After receiving my food I went home to enjoy my purchase. While I was eating my sandwhich I discovered a head-less roach in it. The roach seemed as if it was cook along with my good and I bit its Head off.
************************************************************************
Hey guys? Maybe we could all just skip the Mickey D’s for a while?
From: xxxxxxxx@aol.com
I have a problem with a McDonald’s in the Bronx. On Saturday March 5, 2005 at around 8.25 in the morning I ordered a Big breakfast deluxe meal. I started eating the meal and almost half through the meal I notice something black in my mean which turned out to be Rats Feces. I have the food from tha tday in my freezer and I have pictures of the meal. I had to go to the emergency room because I had diarhea and was vomitting up.
************************************************************************
Ants are a delicacy is certain parts of the world; I’m not sure where but that place exists.
From: xxxxxxxxxxxx@officeteam.com
I went to Haagen Daz to enjoy a delicious treat… I bought a cone with sprinkles that comes already prepared. To find that as I was pealing off the wrapper of my delicious treat and finish it off, millions of little ants came crawling out. I still feel sick. No one was able to help me. They did not even give me my money back! Please help!
************************************************************************
Wait, this guys is upset that he didn’t eat more of this hot pocket?
From: xxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com
I had brought a hot pocket from pathmark and I found a rodent tooth in it. It really made me sick to my stomach I didn’t eat no more after I found the tooth in it. I only had like two bites before I came across the tooth.
FOOD:
Why does everyone want to sue? Besides, didn’t you see “Supersize Me”
From: xxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com
I recently went to McDonald’s and purchased a #7 from the breakfast menu. After receiving my food I went home to enjoy my purchase. While I was eating my sandwich I discovered a headless roach in it. The roach seemed as if it was cooked along with my food and I bit its head off. Help me. What can be done? Can this be a possible law suit?
************************************************************************
Another one who missed “Supersize Me.”
From: xxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com
I recently went ot McDonald’s and purchased a #7 from the breakfast menu. After receiving my food I went home to enjoy my purchase. While I was eating my sandwhich I discovered a head-less roach in it. The roach seemed as if it was cook along with my good and I bit its Head off.
************************************************************************
Hey guys? Maybe we could all just skip the Mickey D’s for a while?
From: xxxxxxxx@aol.com
I have a problem with a McDonald’s in the Bronx. On Saturday March 5, 2005 at around 8.25 in the morning I ordered a Big breakfast deluxe meal. I started eating the meal and almost half through the meal I notice something black in my mean which turned out to be Rats Feces. I have the food from tha tday in my freezer and I have pictures of the meal. I had to go to the emergency room because I had diarhea and was vomitting up.
************************************************************************
Ants are a delicacy is certain parts of the world; I’m not sure where but that place exists.
From: xxxxxxxxxxxx@officeteam.com
I went to Haagen Daz to enjoy a delicious treat… I bought a cone with sprinkles that comes already prepared. To find that as I was pealing off the wrapper of my delicious treat and finish it off, millions of little ants came crawling out. I still feel sick. No one was able to help me. They did not even give me my money back! Please help!
************************************************************************
Wait, this guys is upset that he didn’t eat more of this hot pocket?
From: xxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com
I had brought a hot pocket from pathmark and I found a rodent tooth in it. It really made me sick to my stomach I didn’t eat no more after I found the tooth in it. I only had like two bites before I came across the tooth.
Notes From A Newsroom Pt. 5--Celebrities
(Here the various viewers of my friend's TV news show wrote in about their celebrity obsessions.)
CELEBRITIES:
Kid, you lost us at “Hanson.”
From: XXXXXXXXX@aol.com
I am a really big fan of Hanson and they were recently in a law suit. they lost and the judge said they have to give up 6 of their songs to the record label. I want to make a patition to get them back their six songs because I believe it is unconstitutional to have to give them up. If you call me I could explain this a lot better.
************************************************************************
Ridiculous and pathetic…knowing is half the battle.
From: xxxxxxxx@hotmail.com
Okay, I realize that this is a LONG shot, but I figure I have nothing to loose. The internet, and email in general, are VERY powerful tools. My objective is to HOPEFULLY meet Mr. Mike Piazza by the end of the year. I am seeking to obtain my objective by emailing this link to everyone I know, and then some; perhaps EVENTUALLY it will get the attention of someone who could make it happen. I acknowledge how ridiculous and pathetic this seems – and yet it is that notion that I hope to capitalize on. For example if this were presented to say, Rosie O’Donnell (hint, hint), she may think I am SO pathetically desperate that she’d feel compelled to put me out of my misery. Stranger things have happened.
At this point you’re vacillating between “Is this chick out of her mind?!”, and “Umm, don’t you have anything better to do with you time?” The answer to both is ‘Yes.’ I am slightly cuckoo at times, have plenty to do (single Mom of a 12-year-old, work full time, ect.), and many more goals to achieve. But I also believe that if you TRULY want to achieve a goal (silly or not), YOU have to make it happen. So here is my attempt, and it will only ‘work’ if people (friends, family strangers, weather men….) participate. All you have to do is “pass it on”. Come on! Haven’t you ever had a dream? Been a fan? Wanted desperately to meet the object of your fanaticism? What did YOU do about it? I am making a conscious effort here and I need your help.)
I traveled approximately 3,400 miles last year to attend two Met games in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the man himself. Wouldn’t you know he wasn’t on the roster for either game? And being from Boston, the chances are pretty slim that I’ll be attending a Met game this year. Perhaps now you can see why I am using the internet as an avenue!
I acknowledge how ‘off the wall’ this is. And while I encourage positive feedback, helpful and creative suggestions and ideas, I ask that you refrain from forwarding and negative criticism, as I am not really hurting anyone by launching my “campaign”. Hee hee.
Thank you for your help and wish me luck.
************************************************************************
May The Force be with you…to find something meaningful to do with your life.
From: xxxxxxx@hotmail.com
On behalf of all the Star Wars fans especially now that May 19 the new Episode 3 film is coming up would want to know why Sony Online Entertainment ignored us, lied to us and took the very game that we all love and destroyed it…
We told Sony we did not like it, they just ignored us and said everything will be alright, they even erased our post against it in the forums and banned us taking away our freedom of speech. That’s why right now, for the first time, all members are coming to gather rebels and imps to go against the dreaded Sony Online Entertainment. We come to you for help so Sony can finally hear our voice.
************************************************************************
Just so we’re clear you only have ONE Liver and you need it to live.
From: xxxxxxxxxx@hotmail.com
Help me. I just found out that Barry White is in need of a liver. I want to find out if I can help Mr. Barry White. I will give up one of my livers for him. Please help me find out if I can. Mr. Barry White has to live on and so does his music. I love him, I will give up a liver for him.
************************************************************************
Put your kid to bed earlier and don’t blame us when your kid finds out you’ve been lying to them for years.
From: xxxxxxxxx@aol.com
On Saturday, Dec. 21st at 11pm myself, my wife and my 7 year old daughter are watching “Everybody Loves Raymond”. Well you should have put up a warning notice that this show contains information that there really is not a Santa Claus! My daughter was very upset watching this show. By the time we shut it off it was too late. Maybe you should help out your network and show them to be a little considerate of who is watching your network.
************************************************************************
Umm, maybe we could host a telethon? And are these people French?
From: xxxxxxxxx@prodigy.net
Hi H,
Hope all is well. We are not asking for your help for us. We are asking your help for Jerry Lewis, of whom we have been fans virtually our entire lives (please remember this throughout.)
His appearance is alarming. In his piece he said he was 50 pounds overweight, blaming the steroids/prednizone that he’s taking (for pulmonary fibrosis?). And that, with all sincere respect, is pure bovine scatology, used as a justification for the weight gain, NOT in his best interests.
For Jerry’s sake, and others like him, you can’t let this celebrity get away with that “cause” excuse unchallanged. That is tacit affirmation of inacurate information. There is only one excuse for anyone gaining, and maintaining, that amount of excess weight especially ... and it is not from lack of exercise either. We hope you can help him.
CELEBRITIES:
Kid, you lost us at “Hanson.”
From: XXXXXXXXX@aol.com
I am a really big fan of Hanson and they were recently in a law suit. they lost and the judge said they have to give up 6 of their songs to the record label. I want to make a patition to get them back their six songs because I believe it is unconstitutional to have to give them up. If you call me I could explain this a lot better.
************************************************************************
Ridiculous and pathetic…knowing is half the battle.
From: xxxxxxxx@hotmail.com
Okay, I realize that this is a LONG shot, but I figure I have nothing to loose. The internet, and email in general, are VERY powerful tools. My objective is to HOPEFULLY meet Mr. Mike Piazza by the end of the year. I am seeking to obtain my objective by emailing this link to everyone I know, and then some; perhaps EVENTUALLY it will get the attention of someone who could make it happen. I acknowledge how ridiculous and pathetic this seems – and yet it is that notion that I hope to capitalize on. For example if this were presented to say, Rosie O’Donnell (hint, hint), she may think I am SO pathetically desperate that she’d feel compelled to put me out of my misery. Stranger things have happened.
At this point you’re vacillating between “Is this chick out of her mind?!”, and “Umm, don’t you have anything better to do with you time?” The answer to both is ‘Yes.’ I am slightly cuckoo at times, have plenty to do (single Mom of a 12-year-old, work full time, ect.), and many more goals to achieve
I traveled approximately 3,400 miles last year to attend two Met games in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the man himself. Wouldn’t you know he wasn’t on the roster for either game? And being from Boston, the chances are pretty slim that I’ll be attending a Met game this year. Perhaps now you can see why I am using the internet as an avenue!
I acknowledge how ‘off the wall’ this is. And while I encourage positive feedback, helpful and creative suggestions and ideas, I ask that you refrain from forwarding and negative criticism, as I am not really hurting anyone by launching my “campaign”. Hee hee.
Thank you for your help and wish me luck.
************************************************************************
May The Force be with you…to find something meaningful to do with your life.
From: xxxxxxx@hotmail.com
On behalf of all the Star Wars fans especially now that May 19 the new Episode 3 film is coming up would want to know why Sony Online Entertainment ignored us, lied to us and took the very game that we all love and destroyed it…
We told Sony we did not like it, they just ignored us and said everything will be alright, they even erased our post against it in the forums and banned us taking away our freedom of speech. That’s why right now, for the first time, all members are coming to gather rebels and imps to go against the dreaded Sony Online Entertainment. We come to you for help so Sony can finally hear our voice.
************************************************************************
Just so we’re clear you only have ONE Liver and you need it to live.
From: xxxxxxxxxx@hotmail.com
Help me. I just found out that Barry White is in need of a liver. I want to find out if I can help Mr. Barry White. I will give up one of my livers for him. Please help me find out if I can. Mr. Barry White has to live on and so does his music. I love him, I will give up a liver for him.
************************************************************************
Put your kid to bed earlier and don’t blame us when your kid finds out you’ve been lying to them for years.
From: xxxxxxxxx@aol.com
On Saturday, Dec. 21st at 11pm myself, my wife and my 7 year old daughter are watching “Everybody Loves Raymond”. Well you should have put up a warning notice that this show contains information that there really is not a Santa Claus! My daughter was very upset watching this show. By the time we shut it off it was too late. Maybe you should help out your network and show them to be a little considerate of who is watching your network.
************************************************************************
Umm, maybe we could host a telethon? And are these people French?
From: xxxxxxxxx@prodigy.net
Hi H,
Hope all is well. We are not asking for your help for us. We are asking your help for Jerry Lewis, of whom we have been fans virtually our entire lives (please remember this throughout.)
His appearance is alarming. In his piece he said he was 50 pounds overweight, blaming the steroids/prednizone that he’s taking (for pulmonary fibrosis?). And that, with all sincere respect, is pure bovine scatology, used as a justification for the weight gain, NOT in his best interests.
For Jerry’s sake, and others like him, you can’t let this celebrity get away with that “cause” excuse unchallanged. That is tacit affirmation of inacurate information. There is only one excuse for anyone gaining, and maintaining, that amount of excess weight especially ... and it is not from lack of exercise either. We hope you can help him.
Notes From A Newsroom Pt. 4--One Liners/Bellevue
Below are contained the emails and letters from viewers that were either really short or just plain nuts.
*****************************************************************************
ONE LINERS:
This isn’t the Dr. Ruth show and we don’t do stories on common occurrences anyway.
From: xxxxxxxxx@aol.com
My girlfriend is pregnant and won’t give me sex.
************************************************************************
100mg of Prozac, as may times a day as necessary.
From: xxxxxxxxx@myboostmobile.com
Can you please tell me how to remove electronic mind control technology?
************************************************************************
A question that has stumped scientists for years…
From: xxxxxxxxx@aol.com
I’m asking you why does cafeteria food stink so badly??
************************************************************************
Well it’s better than being a pig…
From: xxxxxxx@mobil.att.net
Help I am a lamb.
************************************************************************
No.
From: xxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com.
Help!
************************************************************************
Pal, we’re journalists! Why? Because we’re terrible at math!
From: xxxxxx@yahoo.com
help me with math work.
************************************************************************
Thanks for SHARing
From: xxxxxxxx@e-mail.com
Why can’t more people learn and adapt SHARE attitudes?
************************************************************************
What channels are you watching, anyway? And why can’t we get those?
From: xxxxxxxx@nycollege.edu
Direct TV is jerking me around.
*************************************************************************
PT. 2 BELLEVUE:
Doctors give out medication for a reason, don’t stop taking it all on your own.
From: XXXXXXXXXXX@yahoo.com
I really hope you can help me with my problem. Its going to sound quite bizarre if you’re not familiar with it but here goes. My name is Elina XXXXX XXXXXX and I live in Bloomfield, NJ. I don’t know if you recognize the name but I’m the person you and every other news anchor on every station looks at while presenting the news on air. This is something I’ve had to figure out on my own but I really need for someone to explain why I’m being looked at. I’ve kept these thoughts to myself and it feels like I’m living a double life. Keeping them secret is ruining my life even though I’ve had to do that so that I won’t be perceived as crazy. I hope you won’t consider me crazy. I’m not sure if you’re at liberty to talk to me but I would really appreciate if you could. I don’t know who else to turn to. I’m not hoping that you air this problem but after watching your last segment on how you helped a girl receive her Dad’s kidney even though he was in jail I feel hopeful that you won’t disappoint me. Thanks in advance.
************************************************************************
Lay off the psychedelics, the 60s were over a long time ago.
From: XXXXXXXXX@aol.com
There is proof of an after life, and proof of higher energetic existence. I live in such a way everyday. Proof of such an existence of Spirits is found within oneself. Many people look for physical proof with physical means. This will only get you physical proof. I will be glad to pass to you an experience of energy in a way you have probably not felt before.
************************************************************************
You should have made that left at Albuquerque!
From: XXXXXXXXXX
Looking for metaphysical Margot who passed through New Mexico last year. Margot, if you see this please click the link to contact me. If someone reads this who knows her please contact me.
************************************************************************
What the F….? It makes me wonder how much time is spent by the NSA wiretap program reading e-mails like this?
From: XXXXXXXXX@cs.com
The people that I see when I’m sleeping are very nice. I sent an e-mail to them that what they do is amazing…they are really cool. They are the cast of the TV program Friends…Love them!
I also sent an e-mail asking….why is it that we don’t have privacy? Also if they can help us because this is a family and we need our privacy. Also I need to take a class at the Long Island University. That was the reason I saw a counselor. They said that I caqn take the class to complete. Also I need to take some courses for the program that I’m and those courses are available online. We have the right of privacy.
************************************************************************
Oh, so now we know who to blame for “Cats.”
From: Christopher
What I am about to say in this letter is so incredible, it sounds unbelievable. But, it is the absolutely true. I have been the victim of a conspiracy for some twenty years. It began around 1980 when I met a woman who worked in a midtown Manhattan Bar. I began to talk about movies, plays, songs, and television programs. I told her my ideas and somehow she was able to make movies, plays, songs and television programs from my ideas. It did not happen all at once, but over some period of years.
I said to her “There should be a play about Cats.” And a play called “Miss Saigon ... a love story.” And “Phantom of the Opera” based on the horror story.
Then there were the movies: I thought of the names for: American Gigalo, Big, Back to the Future, Crocodile Dundee, Dirty Dancing, Flashdance, Footloose, Good Morning Vietnam, Earth Girls are Easy, Forrest Gump, Lost Boys. Risky Business, Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan, Stayin’ Alive, Union City (starring Deborah Harry of Blondie, shot in my hometown, and an epic love story remake of Titanic.
Some of the television programs: Ally McBeal, BayWatch, a sitcom with Jerry Seinfeld. Xena, I made up the name, about a woman warrior in ancient times.
Then there were the songs: the group Blondie were friends with this woman, and she gave the the ideas I had for most of their hits. Atomic, Call Me, Heart of Glass and Union City Blue, a song Deborah Harry wrote about me. I know Deborah Harry was a friend of this woman who I only knew by her nick name “Dondi.”
I want to get the recognition and royalties for these ideas for movies, plays, songs and television programs. But as I have no written proof, I am unable to prove my claims to sue Dondi and Deborah Harry for “conspiracy to defraud me.” So I hope you can help me contact Deborah Harry and see if she will admit finally that she did defraud me of my rights to royalties for most of her hit songs. I thank you.
************************************************************************
Our elected leaders will be pleased to learn this is the biggest problem in Washington.
From: XXXXXXXXX@aol.com
CC: FIRSTLADY@WHITEHOUSE.GOV
A CAPITAL CITY HAS MUCH TO DO WITH SOCIO-ECONO LIIFE OF A NATION. .. SHOULD NOT BE THE LARGEST CITY OF A NATION/STATE
SHOULD NOT BE NAMED AFTER A MALE PERSON..
*****************************************************************************
ONE LINERS:
This isn’t the Dr. Ruth show and we don’t do stories on common occurrences anyway.
From: xxxxxxxxx@aol.com
My girlfriend is pregnant and won’t give me sex.
************************************************************************
100mg of Prozac, as may times a day as necessary.
From: xxxxxxxxx@myboostmobile.com
Can you please tell me how to remove electronic mind control technology?
************************************************************************
A question that has stumped scientists for years…
From: xxxxxxxxx@aol.com
I’m asking you why does cafeteria food stink so badly??
************************************************************************
Well it’s better than being a pig…
From: xxxxxxx@mobil.att.net
Help I am a lamb.
************************************************************************
No.
From: xxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com.
Help!
************************************************************************
Pal, we’re journalists! Why? Because we’re terrible at math!
From: xxxxxx@yahoo.com
help me with math work.
************************************************************************
Thanks for SHARing
From: xxxxxxxx@e-mail.com
Why can’t more people learn and adapt SHARE attitudes?
************************************************************************
What channels are you watching, anyway? And why can’t we get those?
From: xxxxxxxx@nycollege.edu
Direct TV is jerking me around.
*************************************************************************
PT. 2 BELLEVUE:
Doctors give out medication for a reason, don’t stop taking it all on your own.
From: XXXXXXXXXXX@yahoo.com
I really hope you can help me with my problem. Its going to sound quite bizarre if you’re not familiar with it but here goes. My name is Elina XXXXX XXXXXX and I live in Bloomfield, NJ. I don’t know if you recognize the name but I’m the person you and every other news anchor on every station looks at while presenting the news on air. This is something I’ve had to figure out on my own but I really need for someone to explain why I’m being looked at. I’ve kept these thoughts to myself and it feels like I’m living a double life. Keeping them secret is ruining my life even though I’ve had to do that so that I won’t be perceived as crazy. I hope you won’t consider me crazy. I’m not sure if you’re at liberty to talk to me but I would really appreciate if you could. I don’t know who else to turn to. I’m not hoping that you air this problem but after watching your last segment on how you helped a girl receive her Dad’s kidney even though he was in jail I feel hopeful that you won’t disappoint me. Thanks in advance.
************************************************************************
Lay off the psychedelics, the 60s were over a long time ago.
From: XXXXXXXXX@aol.com
There is proof of an after life, and proof of higher energetic existence. I live in such a way everyday. Proof of such an existence of Spirits is found within oneself. Many people look for physical proof with physical means. This will only get you physical proof. I will be glad to pass to you an experience of energy in a way you have probably not felt before.
************************************************************************
You should have made that left at Albuquerque!
From: XXXXXXXXXX
Looking for metaphysical Margot who passed through New Mexico last year. Margot, if you see this please click the link to contact me. If someone reads this who knows her please contact me.
************************************************************************
What the F….? It makes me wonder how much time is spent by the NSA wiretap program reading e-mails like this?
From: XXXXXXXXX@cs.com
The people that I see when I’m sleeping are very nice. I sent an e-mail to them that what they do is amazing…they are really cool. They are the cast of the TV program Friends…Love them!
I also sent an e-mail asking….why is it that we don’t have privacy? Also if they can help us because this is a family and we need our privacy. Also I need to take a class at the Long Island University. That was the reason I saw a counselor. They said that I caqn take the class to complete. Also I need to take some courses for the program that I’m and those courses are available online. We have the right of privacy.
************************************************************************
Oh, so now we know who to blame for “Cats.”
From: Christopher
What I am about to say in this letter is so incredible, it sounds unbelievable. But, it is the absolutely true. I have been the victim of a conspiracy for some twenty years. It began around 1980 when I met a woman who worked in a midtown Manhattan Bar. I began to talk about movies, plays, songs, and television programs. I told her my ideas and somehow she was able to make movies, plays, songs and television programs from my ideas. It did not happen all at once, but over some period of years.
I said to her “There should be a play about Cats.” And a play called “Miss Saigon ... a love story.” And “Phantom of the Opera” based on the horror story.
Then there were the movies: I thought of the names for: American Gigalo, Big, Back to the Future, Crocodile Dundee, Dirty Dancing, Flashdance, Footloose, Good Morning Vietnam, Earth Girls are Easy, Forrest Gump, Lost Boys. Risky Business, Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan, Stayin’ Alive, Union City (starring Deborah Harry of Blondie, shot in my hometown, and an epic love story remake of Titanic.
Some of the television programs: Ally McBeal, BayWatch, a sitcom with Jerry Seinfeld. Xena, I made up the name, about a woman warrior in ancient times.
Then there were the songs: the group Blondie were friends with this woman, and she gave the the ideas I had for most of their hits. Atomic, Call Me, Heart of Glass and Union City Blue, a song Deborah Harry wrote about me. I know Deborah Harry was a friend of this woman who I only knew by her nick name “Dondi.”
I want to get the recognition and royalties for these ideas for movies, plays, songs and television programs. But as I have no written proof, I am unable to prove my claims to sue Dondi and Deborah Harry for “conspiracy to defraud me.” So I hope you can help me contact Deborah Harry and see if she will admit finally that she did defraud me of my rights to royalties for most of her hit songs. I thank you.
************************************************************************
Our elected leaders will be pleased to learn this is the biggest problem in Washington.
From: XXXXXXXXX@aol.com
CC: FIRSTLADY@WHITEHOUSE.GOV
A CAPITAL CITY HAS MUCH TO DO WITH SOCIO-ECONO LIIFE OF A NATION. .. SHOULD NOT BE THE LARGEST CITY OF A NATION/STATE
SHOULD NOT BE NAMED AFTER A MALE PERSON..
Notes From A Newsroom Pt. 3--Animals
ANIMALS:
I don’t know the average life span of a guinea pig but I’m sure five years is enough. I think it’s time for a lesson in natural selection.
From: xxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com
I am writing on behalf of Mrs. Gilman’s second grade class at P.S. 193Q. We have a 5 year old guinea pig named Fudge who is sick and in need of medical assistance. We searched locally for a vet who was willing to donate his time but was unsuccessful. Fudge had a tumor surgically removed 3 years ago. Sadly, the tumor has returned. If Fudge doesn’t receive proper medical attention soon, her future doesn’t look bright. Our hope is that if our situation receives some publicity, a vet who is willing to donate his time and talents may come forward. Fudge has lived in Mrs. Gilman’s class her entire life. She has munched her way into the hearts of not only the children, but most of the staff. We are hoping you can help.
************************************************************************
Ewe, gross. I think I’ll pass on this one.
From: xxxxxxxx@aol.com
Hi, I don’t want to appear on TV or have my name broadcast but could you investigate internet websites that show sex between animals and humans? This is sick and I don’t like to see those things. I told the ASPCA about this but they told me to tell you guys. I want to see those sick bastards in jail!
***********************************************************************
We hate clichés but you have to let a dead dog lie. Six years is my cutoff for looking for carcasses.
From: xxxxxxxxx@earthlink.net
(Date of e-mail: April 14th, 2005)
On May 10, 1998 in the early 2-3am hours my dog was killed on 8th Ave. and 29th St. It was a hit and run. My dogs’ body was never found. The car continued to drive away with my dog trapped…I was in extreme shock. I contacted the police… They drove me around and I could not find his body. My roommate’s boyfriend who is deaf went out looking. I posted signs, I called shelters and vets. I tried to get a story but Frank Sinatra died soon after and nobody would print it. I know this is years later and that you probably can’t do anything, but I always harbor hope to find someone out there to find his body.
************************************************************************
Hey, c’mon lady, the dog’s working!
From: xxxxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com
I would like to now if a Police Officer can let their Work Dog go to the bathroom in front of your apartment door & leave it there for you to clean it up even though you asked him to clean it up, he walks off & gets in the car, laughs then leave, is there a way to get him in trouble for that?
************************************************************************
Ever see a cat skeleton in a tree? Didn’t think so.
From: xxxxxxxx@mac.com.
we need help getting a cat out of a tree in brooklyn that’s been there for 5 days. Nobody will help.
************************************************************************
Hey, people! Maybe these cats are just avoiding you!
From: xxxxxxxxxx@aol.com
My cat is stuck on the roof. My family tried to get her down but the roof is just too high. My cat has been up there for three days.
I don’t know the average life span of a guinea pig but I’m sure five years is enough. I think it’s time for a lesson in natural selection.
From: xxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com
I am writing on behalf of Mrs. Gilman’s second grade class at P.S. 193Q. We have a 5 year old guinea pig named Fudge who is sick and in need of medical assistance. We searched locally for a vet who was willing to donate his time but was unsuccessful. Fudge had a tumor surgically removed 3 years ago. Sadly, the tumor has returned. If Fudge doesn’t receive proper medical attention soon, her future doesn’t look bright. Our hope is that if our situation receives some publicity, a vet who is willing to donate his time and talents may come forward. Fudge has lived in Mrs. Gilman’s class her entire life. She has munched her way into the hearts of not only the children, but most of the staff. We are hoping you can help.
************************************************************************
Ewe, gross. I think I’ll pass on this one.
From: xxxxxxxx@aol.com
Hi, I don’t want to appear on TV or have my name broadcast but could you investigate internet websites that show sex between animals and humans? This is sick and I don’t like to see those things. I told the ASPCA about this but they told me to tell you guys. I want to see those sick bastards in jail!
***********************************************************************
We hate clichés but you have to let a dead dog lie. Six years is my cutoff for looking for carcasses.
From: xxxxxxxxx@earthlink.net
(Date of e-mail: April 14th, 2005)
On May 10, 1998 in the early 2-3am hours my dog was killed on 8th Ave. and 29th St. It was a hit and run. My dogs’ body was never found. The car continued to drive away with my dog trapped…I was in extreme shock. I contacted the police… They drove me around and I could not find his body. My roommate’s boyfriend who is deaf went out looking. I posted signs, I called shelters and vets. I tried to get a story but Frank Sinatra died soon after and nobody would print it. I know this is years later and that you probably can’t do anything, but I always harbor hope to find someone out there to find his body.
************************************************************************
Hey, c’mon lady, the dog’s working!
From: xxxxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com
I would like to now if a Police Officer can let their Work Dog go to the bathroom in front of your apartment door & leave it there for you to clean it up even though you asked him to clean it up, he walks off & gets in the car, laughs then leave, is there a way to get him in trouble for that?
************************************************************************
Ever see a cat skeleton in a tree? Didn’t think so.
From: xxxxxxxx@mac.com.
we need help getting a cat out of a tree in brooklyn that’s been there for 5 days. Nobody will help.
************************************************************************
Hey, people! Maybe these cats are just avoiding you!
From: xxxxxxxxxx@aol.com
My cat is stuck on the roof. My family tried to get her down but the roof is just too high. My cat has been up there for three days.
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