Friday, May 8, 2009

Group dynamics

I’m obviously being charged with high crimes and misdemeanors of the karmic kind. We had an all-day departmental offsite meeting yesterday, which was putatively meant to be a project-sharing exercise amongst seven product managers and two directors.

You know: "here's what I'm working on, and here's why it's going to Save Civilization as We Know It."

The part that wasn’t subsumed by the cleverness and condescension of the World's Greatest Expert simply highlighted how difficult it appears to be for even smallish corporate departments to communicate internally, put together a reality-based strategy and execute on cohesive tactics. We departed after eight hours of presentations and earnest discussions knowing more about what each other is working on, but without any real direction for how we're supposed to be real, you know, product managers in the greater organization.

Truly, I don’t know how Mormons or Methodists would manage in an environment like this; it’s just not possible to make it through the week without drinking.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Just dicking around

If you find yourself with a few minutes on your hands at work between announcements of layoffs & could use some amusement that doesn’t require you to mute the sound on your PC, try Dickipedia.

It’s obviously in a nascent state—I mean, there’s not even a category of Business dicks. How can you claim to be the ultimate compendium of dicks without John Thain (Merrill Lynch), Rick Waggoner (GM), John Stumpf (Wells Fargo), Bernie Ebbers (WorldCom), John Rigas (Adelphia), Kenny Lay (Enron)—well, maybe you have to still be putatively alive when your entry is made.

& those are just the CEOs. The American ones.

I mean, okay—they have Rupert Murdoch there; but he’s listed as a Media dick. Which is, of course, true; but he's definitely a crossover candidate. Like the Beckhams.

A couple more cavils:

The entry on Kim Jong-il doesn’t mention that he wears shoes with major lifts in them & allegedly throws marathon banquets. It does say he has the world’s worst haircut, which is incorrect, as I work with someone who takes that title; but I’ll concede that Kim has the worst haircut of any Stalinist dictator.

I did think the factoid about him being the largest consumer of Hennessey was interesting. It might explain a lot.

How can you have Dick Cheney but not George W. in the Political dicks category? Cheney may be the organ grinder & W. the monkey, but still.

& how can you have Steve Jobs but not Steve Ballmer? Or, for that matter, Larry Ellison? Jeez—I’m back to the question about why there’s not a business category…

Not sure I agree that Pope Benedict XVI looks like a combination of Elton John & Liberace—he may dress like them, but doesn’t have John’s flair for eyewear or Lee’s blinding smile. But I’m totally behind him being in the list, both on account of the office (which is basically focused on keeping humanity no further advanced than the Inquisition) & his own inclinations (he wasn't known as John Paul II's enforcer for nothing). As the Dick entry says, “Is it a coincidence that 14-year-old Joey Ratzinger was enrolled in the Hitler Youth? No, it is not.”

Well, I could run on & on, but you should explore for yourself. God bless the Internet.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Absinthe makes the heart...

That wild and crazy guy, Richard Branson—he’s taken domestic flights to entirely new, erm, heights.

An email came through announcing that Virgin America, the US offshoot of his Virgin empire, is now offering absinthe as an in-flight drink choice. “Le Tourment Vert” authentic French absinthe”, to be precise; le tourment vert meaning “green torment.”

Absinthe is a relative of wormwood, which has been the death of many an artist or artist manqué. It’s an herbal liquor, tasting like anise, and has been banned by the US and many European countries for some time. Since the 1990s it's made a return to the marketplace.

Now here’s the thing: absinthe isn’t actually a jolly sort of spirit. Painters of the 19th and 20th centuries have given us these depictions of absinthe fans:



Degas’ “Absinthe Drinkers” aren’t really anyone you want to be sitting between on a trans-continental flight.



You could blame the visual distortion on Picasso’s Blue Period style; but you’ll notice that his “Absinthe Drinker” is as intent on her drink as Degas’ pair.



The “Absinthe and Carafe of Water” by van Gogh is the most innocuous presentation. Ironic, given that van Gogh was a heavy user of the substance.

And, lest you think that we of the 21st Century are beyond all that torment, I give you this from the Czech Republic:


Mildly amusing at a trendy club. Not something I want to see even a few rows behind me 35,000 feet over Omaha.

Virgin America evidently has many cocktail suggestions, including the “Mile High”—absinthe, lemon-lime soda and lemons, “shaken and served over ice”.

And that’s just inviting someone to puke on his seatmates.

Well—Branson’s done well so far, so maybe this’ll work out, too. But air travel these days is already torment enough; I don't see why we need to add to it.

Monday, May 4, 2009

¡Viva el pueblo!

We’re coming up on Cinco de Mayo, a holiday celebrated more widely in the US than in México. In my native California, the celebrations will have been going on for days, involving fiestas, mariachis & copious amounts of tequila y cerveza.

You may not know that Cinco de Mayo is basically a regional holiday in México, marking the defeat by forces under Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín of the invading French army at the Battle of Puebla in 1862. The victory didn’t stop the French, intent on an imperial adventure come what may. Not until 1867, when the US woke up from our own civil war & started reminding the French of the Monroe Doctrine, & adding that, gee, we have this whole army hanging around, trained, equipped & everything…did the French withdraw.

They left behind their ersatz "emperor of México", Maximilian, who had the misfortune to be an unemployed Hapsburg archduke (& possible relative of that popinjay Napoleon III), at a time when France needed a figurehead to legitimize their invasion of México. He was shot on the orders of Benito Juárez on 19 June 1867.

Sic semper imperis.

Cinco de Mayo isn’t actually México’s independence day—that’s 16 September, when a criollo priest rallied the Mexicans to drive the Spaniards out in 1810. It’s kind of like the Fourth of July in the US—there wasn’t a major military victory, but the very act of declaring that enough is enough is the point at which a nation grows out of a colony.

Father Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla inspired his countrymen with “el grito de Dolores” (“Cry of Dolores). This was something along the lines of, “Long live Our Lady of Guadalupe, death to bad government & death to the Spaniards!” The Battle of Guanjuato followed a few days later, the war was on & the Spanish didn’t actually acknowledge México’s independence until 1821.

But back to the celebration at hand. It’s really a occasion to revel in the heritage of the Mexican immigrants to this country. I don’t remember it as a kid in LA, but by the 80s it was big time.

Eric Felten has written about an alternative to margaritas for the holiday. I have to say that the Michelada sounds like a ruination of beer. Notwithstanding the fact that I have yet to have a margarita in Metro Seattle that hasn’t been utterly vile, I’m definitely not trying the Michelada.

I might go for just one shot of reposado, to drink to the death to bad government. That’s always something worthy of toasting.

¡Viva la Revolución!

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Vox populi

A couple of weeks ago Citigroup held its annual meeting. Last year their security people banned shareholders from bringing in fruit for fear they’d chuck it at execs and; board members. This April—forget the customary metal detector, the ban extended to all food and water bottles.

So stockholders were limited to slinging words, which they did vigorously and at length.

Well—Citi’s stock value has dropped 85%, and stockholders have had a good seven years of experience vilifying corporate boards since Enron paved the way for excess, chicanery and arrogance.

Citi’s board members were so shamed or fearful that they refused to identify themselves to the people they allegedly represent within the corporation. Jellyweases™ in $6K suits. (A Jellywease is someone with the ethics of a weasel on the spine of a jellyfish.)

The four departing board members were ushered out to the roar of, “Thank God they’re gone!” Shareholders did approve the four Citi-nominated replacements as well as re-electing the rest of the directors.

There’s a proposal afoot that would require the company to nominate two candidates for each director’s slot since, as one shareholder pointed out, “It’s a non-election, basically. We know who’s going to win.”

This same person pointed out that it’s ludicrous that a board full of CEOs past and present determine the corporation’s executive compensation, while the stockholders don’t.

And there’s the rub: that whole incestuous inbreeding of the same stock again and again, all serving on each other’s boards and approving whatever executive management proposes. This has gone on for decades and resulted in our current morass.

Citi’s CEO, Vikram Pandit (one of the highest-paid CEOs in America--$38.2M in 2008, while the company reported a $32.1B loss), assured the assembly that the corporation plans on paying back federal bailout funds.

Well, yeah—those funds come with restrictions on executive pay. Can’t have that, now, can we?

It remains to be seen whether this public rage venting will become a trend, but we can hope.

I’m still behind my proposal to revive public stoning for corporate executives and their political panderers. Saves fruit, releases fury, clears out the corporate gene pool. Totally win-win.