Memo to Romney: gaming the system does not create jobs or heal economies

According to The Wall Street Journal, of the 77 companies in which Bain invested while Romney headed it from 1984 to 1999, 22 percent filed for bankruptcy or went out of business. In addition, Bain hid its profits in tax havens. And a recent article in Counterpunch quoted William D. Cohan, a Wall Street deal adviser for 17 years, who wrote in the Washington Post: “Seemingly alone among private-equity firms,” Bain Capital under Romney’s leadership “was a master at bait-and-switching Wall Street bankers to get its hands on the companies that provided the raw material for its financial alchemy.” Cohan said Bain “did all that it could to game the system.”

Out and about

Jo Cougan and me at Peter and Rachel's wedding, April 28, 2012.

Atta girl, Mitt!

Mitt Romney grabs credit for auto industry turnaround that should go to me!

Since it seems to be up for grabs, I would like to take a lot of credit for the auto industry turnaround. My grandpa and my daddy and my uncle all worked in the car business, so that entitles me. I was doing dealer trades the day I got my driver's license at age 16. I worked the switchboards and made sure the vending machines were working. I ripped up hundreds of Styrofoam coffee cups, just to pass the time, and doodled on hundreds of pages of Westside Ford letterhead. And then I supervised the auto industry turnaround, just like that. I snapped my fingers and it was done. So please ignore Mitt Romney - what kind of name is "Mitt" anyway? - he's just one more opportunistic trust fund baby, taking credit where it is certainly not due. Don't let him take the credit for my accomplishment!

Monsieur Lazhar at the Egyptian

This Canadian film was the big winner at the recent Cérémonie de Génie, which is the French-Canadian version of the Oscars. I'm not surprised that this touching and magnificently filmed story was selected as the best film or that Mohamed Fellag, the actor who plays the title role, got the nod as best actor. The delightful 11-year old who plays one of the kids in Monsieur Lazhar's class, Alice (played by Sophie Nélisse), was named best actress in a supporting role. All the kids in this movie are fantastic. In fact, I find that the French (by which I mean French, Swiss, Belgian, Canadian, etc.) have mastered the art of realism in bringing children and stories about childhood to the big screen. Etre et Avoir, Entre les Murs, the more recent Tomboy and Le Gamin au Vélo... to name just a few. Basically, Monsieur Lazhar tells the story of an Algerian seeking political asylum in Québec who steps in to take over a primary school class after the teacher, a young woman, commits suicide. Bashir Lazhar is not really a teacher, as he claims, but he manages to connect with and understand the trauma induced by this violent introduction to death, for reasons that emerge in the course of the film. Indeed, the ubiquitous violence of the world outside the classroom is one of the underlying themes of the film. The teacher's suicide inside the classroom makes a strong statement about the futility of pretending the world is otherwise. Well-meaning adults provide assistance (a psychologist is assigned to regular visits with the class), but they are both afraid to let the kids speak their minds and express their real fears and stymied by the excesses of political correctness imported from the US that have seeped into the pedagogical framework they inhabit. Parents expect school to be meaningful but also demand that teachers to teach without educating. In a telling scene with the parents of one of his students, Bashir is explicitly told to enseigner mais pas éduquer. I couldn't help but think - in light of the events that may have provoked the teacher's violent suicide - about the bill being considered for passage in Tennessee, which would prohibit such gestures as hugging at school because these gestures are considered to be "gateway" sexual activity. This is a movie that raises important issues without trying to resolve them or push a point of view. It manages to both teach and educate without ever becoming heavy handed. Seul bémol: the ending.

John Kercher's Meredith published today

I'm reading it now on my iPad and will be back later on to share the experience. In the meantime, download the book and start reading. If you live in the UK, go out and buy a copy or two. Many people have asked how they might contribute financially to the fight for justice for Meredith Kercher. John Kercher, in an interview in The Times, says that all proceeds from his book will go toward establishing a fund in Meredith's name. He also said the family passed on several lucrative deals offered by various media. As ever, they remain classy and dignified in a brutal and insensitive world.

Mad men

Would you buy a used car from this man? I sure as hell wouldn't!

Mitticism of the Day

Meet Ann and Mittens, heiress and heir apparent to the throne

First in a series This morning on Fox and Friends, Mittens responded to Obama's comment (which he has made several times, which is factual and which does not necessarily refer to Romney) that he (Obama) was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth by saying, several times "I'm certainly not going to apologize for my dad and his success in life," and a little further on "I'm not going to apologize for my dad's success, but I know the president likes to attack fellow Americans." But here's the zinger, the Mitticism of the day: "And if I'm president, I will stop the attack on fellow Americans. I'll stop the attack on people and start attacking the problems that have been looming over this country." Is he going to do this before or after he gets rid of HUD and whatever other federal agencies he plans to abolish when he ascends to the throne? And since no King is complete with his Queen, here's Ann Romney with a Mitticism of her own: She told Diane Sawyer the other day that it was Mittens'turn to live in the White House: "I believe it's... Mitt's time... It's our turn now," she said. But the best is yet to come! Mittens also told Diane Sawyer that if elected, he would seek to have Roe versus Wade overturned. I'm not sure he knows exactly how that process works, but it does involve the Supreme Court. He can't just issue an edict. Stay tuned for tomorrow's Mitticism. Maybe I'll revisit my personal favorite, the one where Mitt states that his wife Ann reports back to him.

Catio: a progress report

Since you asked, the catio project is moving along at a good clip.

Thanks are in order to BIL Terry Elliott, the man behind Paradigm Builders, Inc., for designing and now bringing into existence the catio. Our cats are so excited they're throwing up, hiding, meowing and waking us up at 5 am. Well, that's what they always do, but right now they are doing all of this in a particularly intense and appreciative way. THEY KNOW.

Peter Van Sant: Worst Person in the Universe Today

Peter Van Sant has just thought fit to attack John Kercher, the father of Meredith Kercher, who was murdered in Perugia, Italy, in November of 2007. Van Sant was one of the early adopters of the Amanda Knox as Innocent Abroad narrative fiction concocted by David Marriott, the PR consultant hired by Knox's family just a few days after she was arrested in connection with Meredith Kercher's murder. The PR-driven version of events caught on with the US mainstream media like wildfire, precisely because that mainstream is dominated today by the likes of Peter Van Sant. In his most recent contribution to the hatchet job being worked on the prosecutor, the victim, her family and the latter's lawyer, Van Sant basically tells John Kercher he ought to buy into the narrative fiction Van Sant helped to concoct, insinuates that the rest of the Kercher family is not behind John Kercher, and faults Kercher for not attending the appeal. What he doesn't mention is that John Kercher has suffered a series of strokes since his daughter was brutally murdered. In addition, he and his family did not have the luxury of traveling to and fro on the dime of the big American networks. I'm not even going to provide a link to this undignified and unfair attack on John Kercher. Peter Van Sant is a disgrace to the journalism profession.

Movies old and new (ish)

We watched Woody Allen's Sleeper this weekend, which I hadn't seen since it was released in 1973. I still can't get over the fact that 1973 was almost 40 years ago. I was a year away from high school graduation. Yikes! Sleeper is one of my favorite Woody Allen films, in part because it is a perfect combination of visual slapstick and Alleneque one-liners. The visual slapstick is part Benny Hill, part Charlie Chaplin, yet somehow different from both of those geniuses. Allen's vision of the future seems to focus mainly on the absolute triumph of bureaucratic incompetence and human greed. He places the action 200 years into the future, but I guess that's because he did not anticipate the acceleration of time. Loved: the old volkswagen, the old NY Times headline from 1991 (Pope's wife gives birth to twins), Diane Keaton getting brainwashed and turning into a sort of "Tanya" figure in a nod to the kidnapping and subsequent "brainwashing" of heiress Patty Hearst, the giant banana peel... in many ways, this movie is about the very premises of comedy. Earlier in the week, I went to see Le gamin au vélo at SIFF. It is a wonderful film, deserving of all the accolades it has gotten. One quibble: I don't think the English translation of the title is quite right. It isn't The Kid with a Bike or Kid with a Bike, it is The Kid with the Bike. The identity of the bike and its symbolic value for the kid are critical to the film and captured in the French title. The kid's dad sells his bike at the same time he abandons the kid. During the first part of the film, the kid is desperately seeking HIS bike because it links him to HIS dad. And he simply cannot believe his father has sold his bike, despite mounting evidence to the contrary. Even when he is confronted with incontrovertible proof, you can see him pushing it away. The filmmakers, les frères Dardenne, are known for using mostly unknown actors. This time, they took a chance on a name - the Belgian acress Cécile de France. She is magnificent in this film, in the role of a hairdresser who takes the kid in.

Caine's Arcade

This is a great way to start the day. I want to go to Caine's Arcade. I want to BE CAINE!

DEAR CADMAN GRAVEL

One of your drivers deliberately hit my car in downtown Seattle on Saturday. The driver was apparently disgruntled because my husband pulled out from behind him when he had the opportunity and positioned our tiny car in front of his gigantic truck, giving us better visibility and not compromising his in the least. At the next light, your driver deliberately nudged my car with the nose of his truck, with enough force to startle us. When my husband got out to inspect for possible damage, the driver would not budge. As a result, my husband's head was wedged between your truck and the back of our car and he could not see if any damage had occurred. I was frankly afraid for his safety. The driver was incredibly unpleasant and refused to get out of his truck or apologize. Had it been an accident, he surely would have. He actually denied having hit us, claimed we had rolled backward (we had not and were not on a hill), and yet yelled at my husband for pulling in front of him a couple of minutes earlier. Sounded like payback to us. We later discovered that he had dented my car in a couple of places. My husband called your company today and was told that nothing would be done. We wrote down the license plate and truck numbers. We have the time of the incident and other details. It is all well and good to put testimonials on your website about how clean your trucks are, but as far as I am concerned your company is not a force for good in the community if this is how your drivers behave with no sanctions or even concern on your part. I'll probably write a blog post about it, and I won't hesitate to use the real name of your company. I think people in the Northwest need to know what some of your drivers are apparently capable of. Someone could have been seriously hurt. Our car, by the way, is a tiny mini cooper (2002). It is no match for a huge cement mixing truck. Your driver is lucky that his lack of maturity only caused us to feel a jolt and only dented our car slightly. A minor miscalculation on his part and the outcome could have been far worse. Sincerely, Margaret Ganong

Book by Meredith Kercher's Father John to be Published Soon

That's the cover, a lovely photo of Meredith Kercher, whose murder in November 2007 will perhaps never be fully elucidated. Those who know something are not talking. But books galore are in the works. I'm pleased that John Kercher, Meredith's father, will beat both Sollecito and Knox to publication. Although virtually unknown in America, probably because he is Italian, Raffaele Sollecito has nonetheless managed to find a publisher thanks to his agent, who is lately based on Mercer Island, the affluent suburb to the east of Seattle that boasts more face lifts, boob jobs and French nails per square block than any other suburb on earth I'm told. Sollecito has found a bombastic journalist to cowrite his best version of the truth, which should be out by this fall. As for Amanda Knox, the publisher is saying 2013. A co-author has to be found and there is the pesky question of how Italy's Supreme Court will respond to Judge Hellmann's perplexing acquittal. I have high hopes for John Kercher's book. After all, he is actually a journalist and has no particular agenda. He just wants to pay homage to his daughter who, in the frenzied PR-driven attempt to clear the two white kids, was ruthlessly erased. Worse than that, she has been the victim of an organized, posthumous smear campaign. She deserves better. The Knox groupies are in quite a tizzy over John Kercher's book, and have been busy strewing its path to publication with the usual trash and innuendo. If they keep it up, they could be credited with boosting sales of this book. It will be out in the UK at the end of this month. Expect no coverage in Seattle, where the media have been told to forget about the dead girl. We have a very obedient media it seems. John Henry Browne just got front-page treatment in the Sunday Times. This is the guy who defends mostly white guys, it seems, saving them from the harshest penalties for heinous acts by invoking their rough upbringings and, if necessary, brain damage - usually temporary. Sound familiar? Correct me if I'm wrong, but the only high-profile case under Browne's belt that I know of where the perp wasn't a white man was the one where he defended one of the authors of the Wah Mee massacre. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think more than 20 people were killed in that horrific spree.

Impeaching the Supremes: it can be done

Meet Sister Bernie. She was arrested back in 2003 during an anti-war protest and subsequently strip-searched. The Supreme Court has just ruled 5-4 that it is okay to strip-search people like Sister Bernie. Writing for the majority (the majority of assholes currently sitting on the Court), Justice Anthony Kennedy argued that even “people detained for minor offenses can turn out to be the most devious and dangerous criminals.”

The more I stare at her photo, the more devious and dangerous Sister Bernie looks.


Below, my friends at Counterpunch are selling these cool buttons. Just $8 for three.

Chicago is my kind of town

Give me liberty or give me death!

Had we gone to Chicago the weekend before, we would have had sunny 80° weather. As it was, we got temps in the upper 50's and 60's and lots of sun, except for Sunday, which started out gloriously; then the John Hancock Tower suddenly disappeared as a thick, wet fog rolled in while we were lunching/brunching at Gibson's, where actual Blackhawks players come for pre-game dining. No kidding! We saw the stars Walt had just skated with (that's another story). Anyway, the fog rolled in on little cat feet, to quote a renowned poet who was talking about another foggy city, and that was okay because Chicago looks lovely wrapped in fog. And let me tell you, there is something eerie about going up to the top of the John Hancock building and looking out at thick fog. We did that too. Then Walt and his cousins went off to see the Blackhawks play and meet THE Bobby Hull and THE Tony Esposito (that's part of the other story), and my friend Linda from Toronto and I walked the Magnificent Mile, snapping photos and ducking into shops and generally just looking at people and buildings. This is not an original observation, but let me just say that Chicago is a paradise for those who like urban architecture and outdoor art. Everyone has heard of the great Chicago fire of 1871, after which the city basically arose from the ashes. This seems to have led to an outburst of creativity and innovation that makes Chicago one of the most visually stunning American cities I have ever seen. The great thing is seeing so many different architectural styles cohabiting without competing for attention. They seem to blend into a seemless and somehow harmonious whole.

I just had to photograph this Nathan Hale statue, which is a replica of Bela Lyon Pratt's 1912 statue on the campus of Yale University. It was erected by the Chicago Tribune and stands in a small courtyard in front of the low-rise addition to the north of the Tribune Tower. In this bronze sculpture, Hale is about to be executed. The addition, incidentally, is modeled after the Rouen Cathédrale's Tour de Beurre, which was built starting in 1488. Why is it called the Tour de Beurre (Butter Tower), I wondered. Well, here's the answer: It is named for the tax levied on people for the right to eat butter during Lent. Let them eat butter! So French, n'est-ce pas?

The Tribune Tower, at 435 North Michigan Avenue, was built in the early 1920's. It is a fantastic example of neo-Gothic design, with flying buttresses and everything. The arched entrance is carved with figures from Aesop's fables, and gargoyles grace the facade. But what most intrigued me were the rocks and bricks embedded here and there in the facade, all of them marked to indicate where they were carried to the US from by Tribune correspondents stationed abroad. For some reason, they reminded me of the cobblestone streets of La Rochelle, which are partially fabricated from the ballast of ships coming back from across the Atlantic. In fact, the early French settlers in Canada set sail from La Rochelle (including the founders of Montreal). I learned these things quite by accident one day when I lived in La Rochelle, as I was scurrying to the outdoor market and fell into conversation with a little old man who ended up taking me on an impromptu tour of the secret treasures of La Rochelle. By the way, the photo on my masthead, of the tree and the sea and the distant sailboats, was taken in La Rochelle.

Speaking of treasures, just next to the Chicago Tribune building is a giant statue of Marilyn Monroe. It almost looks like something you would find in Madame Toussaud's Wax Museum or Andy Warhol's factory. Look at all these people! Are they trying to get a look at Marilyn's crotch or get away from it? Hard to tell.


Marilyn, stuck forever in that dress


Remnants of the fog that came in on little cat feet

Things fast and loose

For those of you who followed the Meredith Kercher murder trial, I just have one question. Does this b*llshit below sound at all familiar? I'm not just talking about the murder and the trial and the defense, I am also talking about some of the loopier peripheral events involving outsiders who became actively involved, some of them from Seattle (material below quoted from the New York Times article that appeared after Robert Bales was formally charged)*:

“There’s definitely brain injury, no question about it,” Mr. Browne said.

Mr. Browne said Thursday that he expected the charges.

“I’m not persuaded by many facts,” he said. “There’s no crime scene. There’s no DNA. There’s no confession, although they’re leaking something, which I don’t believe until I see it. This is going to be a hard case for the government to prove. And my client can’t help me a lot with some of the things because he has mental problems and I believe they’re totally legitimate.”

So if Browne believes that these mental problems drove Bales to kill 17 innocent people and that they are legitimate, I'd like to know what his plan is for keeping this guy from "snapping" again and killing more innocent people? What is his plan for this in the US, where gun control is, well, pretty loose?

And, while we are on the subject of shooting people, is anyone besides me shocked to learn that 21 US states now have laws that allow anyone to shoot to kill if they feel threatened? It turns out that Florida is not the only state that has made it super easy to carry a gun and super easy to use it. All you have to say is that you were standing your ground! Just remember to shoot to kill, so that there is only one side to the story. And if there are witnesses, kill them too.


*For those who did not follow the Meredith Kercher murder case, I should explain: One of the local luminaries who participated in the shameful US media manipulation campaign, driven by the Seattle PR firm (Marriott Gogerty Stark) hired by the parents of Amanda Knox (the American initially convicted and then acquitted, whose acquittal is pending final court review), was picked up for drunk driving when the car she was driving hit a median. A local lawyer, she initially claimed that her car had been hit and that she had suffered a head injury that caused her speech to become slurred and her behavior to mimic that of an inebriated person. She did not explain how this same injury caused a strong smell of alcohol to emanate from her car... She then tried to use her media connections (and a PR advisor) to get the brain injury story out, and got a psychiatrist friend involved as well. No one bought the story. I spoke to many lawyers who generally rolled their eyes and said gimme a break. She eventually pleaded guilty to the DUI. A few months ago, I was alerted to the fact that she was able to wipe it off her record. It is apparently possible to do so if you are willing to pay thousands of dollars or if you have the legal connections and knowledge needed to do the footwork.

Neko, Munchkin, the Catio

Neko, pictured here on the cat perch, was named after Neko Case, who should feel honored by this. Neko Case lived in and has written proudly about the city of Tacoma, which is where we got our Neko. Neko is also named after the Velvet Underground Nico, but we had to choose a spelling and we went with Neko. Sometime later, we learned that in Japanese, Neko means "cat", though it is pronounced Neh-ko or Nay-ko. Our Nee-ko has been raised with cats and has learned many behaviors typically associated with cats, like climbing into very tight spots and then peering out at the world and eating cat food every time my back is turned. She also eats cat poop, which no cat in its right mind would ever do. Neko loves the kitty roca despite becoming a social outcast when other four-legged critters notice the litter rocks stuck in her chin hairs. And her breath could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon! One of Neko's favorite catty things to do is to climb up on the cat perch when the sun comes out. And believe it or not, the sun came out yesterday for what in Seattle passes for an extended period. We only caught a few drops on our walk.

For some reason, I put my coat on the floor when we came in yesterday from our walk. In fact, it was because the coat rack was full and I really, really had to pee. Munchy the wonder cat generally makes things up as she goes along, and I like that about her. Yesterday, she saw my coat on the floor and decided to occupy that space for awhile.

In other feline news, we have decided to build a "catio" for Munchy and her sister Pushkin (aka Pushy) so that they can enjoy the great outdoors without getting killed by their main urban predators: cars, coyotes and raccoons. There is a small deck off our bedroom that we don't use. It would make a perfect catio for the girls. We'll have to custom build it, but that should not be too difficult. Please note that when I use the word "we" in connection with anything that involves construction or furniture assembly, I mean Walt. I'm more of an interior design expert. I'm visualizing some dirt, some rocks, some non-poisonous plants, maybe some pieces of driftwood to serve as perches, some shelves to crawl along. Something like this:



They are going to love it. And you're going to love My Tacoma by Neko Case. This is a terrific video:

Deep in the Heart of Austin

Sunday, March 4, 2012
Downtown Austin
Taken from the 27th floor condo of friends who live within walking distance to the ACL.

Dead Monkees and Jolie Jambes: what is the world coming to?

Jolie spoofs






Although I hate to admit it, I watched the Oscars this year. And like everyone else, I thought they were awful and could not tear myself away from the television. I needed to see every awful minute. I don't care what anyone says, including JLo, she did have a wardrobe malfunction. There was definitely the shadow of a nip that was not properly tucked. I'm not sure why she was a presenter. No one else knows either, except my husband, who at first tried to say she had had some kind of bona fide career in the movies - to which I replied "Monster in Law!" - and then, realizing the folly of that statement, he retreated, mumbling something about how it had been determined that she appeals to a certain demographic. Ah! That's more like it.

I don't know when the Oscars became a runway show, with some of the models even affecting little runway poses. It didn't used to be that way. Then I left America for more than two decades, and when I came back the Oscars were all messed up. All I know is that this is not my fault. (As an aside, Davey Jones died today, and I can hear in the distance yet another Monkees song on the radio. Enough already!) The worst Oscar moment this year, and there were many to choose from, was probably Angelina and the Aggressive Leg Shot. I think everyone agrees on this point. What was she thinking? Angelina, what were you thinking? You looked really, really stupid, even though you are gorgeous, etc. Maybe you wanted to prove that you are, after all, a mere mortal? There has to be a better way.

And while I'm on the subject of movies and the Oscars, can someone explain why Steven Spielberg's War Horse was among the films nominated for Best Picture? Is the Academy afraid of pissing him off or something? And though I think Martin Scorcese has made some great films, Hugo is not among them and it was quite annoying to hear everyone thanking the great Marty S profusely, as if they were afraid not to. You'll never work in this town again kind of thing. Just as an aside, has Martin always had those Groucho Marx eyebrows? Scary.

The real purpose of this post is to say that I've been reading so much lately I haven't had time to do much else. Latest read: L'amour et des poussières by Clémence Boulouque. Feelings: Mixed. Maybe I'll elaborate another time, if only to figure out why this book bothered me before my book club meets to talk about it.


Me in my Oscar attire,at the after party (and if you can read what is written on my t-shirt, then you do not need to feel concerned by those words for a few more years at least):