The Word Masseur

I wanted to make it so that clicking on the title would trigger a fart noise, or that “wah-waaaaaa” sound that only game shows in Ecuador still use, but I’m not what one would describe as “techno-savvy”.  Anyways, let’s talk briefly about the Super Committee, since I haven’t heard much from them lately.  Must be “return to dry-dock season” on the Potomac – that, or the Lodge family is hosting one hell of a quail hunt.  So is this one of those cases where the adjective really means the opposite of what it typically does, i.e. “phat” or “sick”?  As far as I know, we’re still waiting for these nobly-intended, concerned-for-the-greater-good visionaries to lop a meaty trillion-dollar chunk off the deficit.  I know a trillion dollars is a lot of money to anyone not living within 300 miles of The Beltway, and that such a delicate operation could take time (more time than it takes Congress to vote themselves a raise, apparently) but for the “rainmakers” in DC (I love this word “rainmakers”, by the way – it’s a new, hip entrant in the world of biz-speak crap.  It makes me long for the days of “paradigm shift”, “download” — as in, “I’ll download you on my meeting with Reggie once I get my ducks in a row” — and any reference to “putting a hat on”, as in, “let me put my Operations hat on and give you this month’s production figures”), it’s probably less than Congress’s petty cash fund.

Since the Committee seems to be having about as much success as a prop plane flying instruments-only in the Bermuda Triangle, I’d like to rehash the situation for my own edification:  these guys are part of the same cadre of irresponsible maroons who got us into this position, and they’re all members of the same two parties that can’t agree on anything, right?  I love it.  Forget hiring an “independent auditor” or a “privately funded think-tank” – then we’d have to pay someone else!  In the business world, this is the equivalent of giving a company who thought square wheels were a good idea the chance to launch a new line of barbed-wire bustiers.

Genius.  Pure, unadulterated genius.

Rainmakers, my arse.  Here’s the only “Rainmaker” I care about:

IOH:  -45,330

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