Mister Fun is a noted conservative commentator, phrenologist, sooth sayer, bard of the passing scene, stock market prognosticator and big name in fishing. His advice has appeared here in the Hil-Gle Wonderblog and other publications of similar repute. His opinions do not in any way, shape or form represent the opinion of Hil-Gle or the Wonderblog. Mister Fun is the spokesman for the Intercontinental Association of the Character Challenged and is the regional chairman of the "Sociopathology Speaks" campaign. His words are presented as a public service. There are people like Mister Fun out there. You have been warned.
As the testimony of Jamie Dimon has proven beyond a shadow of any doubt, the world is run by people without souls. To be specific, the world is run by men without souls: men who like to be called Jamie or Jack or Buddy, even though they are no longer twelve years old. To be even more specific, the world is run by short men without souls--mostly unnaturally hairy short men of Mediterranean extraction. Remember, these are the men who gave us philosophy, math, economics, banking, finance and other forms of buggery. I contend to you now that it is from that uniform extraction of buggery that the entire of all other wellsprings of this ilk matriculated, even though it's off-worldly wordy and non linear in logic. But it is the willingness of this breed of men to cleave outside such lines that defines such men.
We do not live by your stinking rules and it is about time someone told you. Perhaps Jamie Dimon's amazing mastication of six billion dollars of other people's money was not demonstration enough. It was a game try, though. For those of you who missed it, Jamie bet six billion dollars of US Government backed depositor money AGAINST the US Economy through the medium of chicken entrails. Actually, it wasn't chicken entrails--mostly because there aren't six billion dollars worth of chicken entrails and if there were, he would at least still have the chicken entrails. Instead, Jamie Dimon not only has no idea how he was doing whatever it is he did to lose six billion dollars, but he has fired the person who also had no idea what he was betting through either, the infamous London Whale. Let that be a lesson in villain nomenclature pecking order for you: it is the henchmen who have names like Whale or Doctor Doom or Lefty. The Masterminds go juvenile, like Jamie or Lex or Mitt or Madonna. (If your name was Madonna, wouldn't you just go by Donna? Not if you're a prickly six year old!) In true mastermind form, Jamie is now firing the very people he told to do what they did not know what they were doing. And claw back their bonus. As if they were ever worth a cent of it and as if they didn't get their jobs through the good old fashioned mechanism of nepotism--as the Whale did, at least on record. Everybody has a stupid kid. That's what positions at large banks are for. You don't want the tard mowing your lawn, do you? In any case, whatever they are paid, they are paid to take the fall.
Do you think any of them are sweating this? For a minute? For a second? Do you think they have some sense of shame? How little you know.
You could ask "Why?" because that's what little minds do. Men like Jamie and the Whale don't ask one word questions. Do you think they formed the very real conception that they were making a cascade of binary wagers (coin flips and conditional coin flips) with six billion dollars of actual money? Do you think they typed in '10,000*2!*2!=six billion dollars leaves the prime material plane' into their Texas Insrtruments and said "Yeah, sounds good." Of course they did! But that's just the sort of cooing noises you have to say to boards of directors--all of which are staffed by geriatric versions of themselves: people who were buggering their secretaries long before the current crop of executives were gleams in their mother's vagina accidents. Look, none of us are worth this kind of money. No one is. But as long as we have the bolts of Zeus just lying around here gathering dust, let's hurl a few--just at random.
It was forever thus. Who do you think J P Morgan Chase Manhattan Bank is? Or Goldman Sachs? Or Citigroup? Or Wells Fargo? Or Bain Capital? They're Gods. Your Gods. And the people who run them are the Gods of the Gods. That's freaking who they are. You need to be reminded of this.
People of America, you are to be commended for your work efthic and general honesty. Thanks to your hard work the mountain from which the Gods of the Gods hurl their thunder is quite high. You are nothing if not orderly. And thanks to certain counterintuitive notions spoon fed to you on commercial right wing radio, you work cheap. (For a bunch of paper shuffling insurance selling burger flippers.) And despite your mass conformity and general lack of motivation, a few of you stray into garages and create all of the wealth in the modern world. Trust us, if we could just get the inventor types and the girls with aircraft carrier boobs, we would off the lot of you. Until we can do that--and make a robot that does everything you otherwise 'do', and get a work around on this whole 'consumer' thing, you're in. But, bitches, you must be ruled.
Someone must live the big life. Someone must make the real money. We keep trying to tell you this with our flat organizations and managed expectations crapola. But you don't seem to get it. So we have to blow up six billion of your dollars--actual stores of your wealth backed by the government so many of you fought and died for. We do this to let you know that it's nothing--it's nothing to us--just like you are. I would call you a muppet or a sheep, but those have value. You don't. You are scenery.
There is in this country a near permanent elite. We talk the same. We act the same. We go to the same schools. Some of us are born into it. But it is a diminishing class.
Which brings me to my point: You're killing us.
I'm not talking about wealth redistribution or ending too big to fail or Obamacare or any of that rot. Go ahead, write rules. To your heart's content. We'll get around them. No, I am literally talking about you hunting us down and killing us.
Do you think that peole like Jamie Dimon grow on trees? They don't. They need to be nurtured, brought around to the various stations of the cross. Dimon himself was once a mere henchmen, a faceless Doctor Doom in the crowd, helping to keep the head of Citigroup out of jail. Do you have any idea of how many 'ethics mines' Dimon has had to dodge just to achieve his vulture's perch? It would boggle your mind--much in the way the not regulated notational market for credit swaps--which is entirely fictional and yet four times the size of Earth's GDP--boggles your mind.
In the past, the best thing you could hope for when a crook God falls was a change in crook Gods--new crooks. But now you people have messed that up. The opportunities for young, soul-less white men grow bleaker by the day.
Consider the gauntlet that soul-less youth must face from the start. Being told to share toys. Having their venom medicated away. All of the needed steps of maturity outlawed, one by one: from sticking M80s up the hinds of small fuzzy animals, to snapping the stray bra to beating and bullying. Where is the future Zeus to learn. This must be put a stop to, which is why we have formed:
Those of you who are with us, we will find. As for the rest of you, you have been warned.
(If you are wondering what he is proposing, so are we.)
Editor's Note: As a point of fact, the six billion dollars did not evaporate. Instead it went into the notational universe of the credit swap market--which is eight times larger than the US economy--and some of it may have wound up in the hands of real people. That's the good news. The bad news is that these are real people like Jamie Dimon, only smaller.
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