Bernard Madoff made me squeal like a pig

December 28, 2008

Viking Woman and I live from payday to payday. Well, OK, her payday — these days I seem to be putting the free in freelance journalist.

Our situation is not exactly unique; everyone we know is struggling.

Another way in which we are similar to billions of others is how little we care about Steven Spielberg’s current financial woes. Or those of the likes of Eric Roth, Jeffrey Katzenberg or Alexandra Penney. Or anyone else, for that matter, with more money than brains and who just lost their pocket change to Bernard Madoff and his Ponzi scheme.

Let me get this straight:  It will now take Spielberg only 30 days to count his gold instead of the usual 31. My heart weeps. No, really.

The thing is, Stevie my son, those of us way down here below the bottom rungs of the economic ladder just do not give a crap about you rich rat bastards in your rich-rat-bastard palaces, living your rich-rat-bastard lifestyles. God gives money to stupid people. And then He takes it away. You learned a lesson today, Stevie and Eric and Jeffrey and the rest of you. You might want to write it down.

Oh, and Stevie? You could always make a movie based on this experience and recoup your losses on the opening weekend. Yeah, I know, that might actually involve doing some work for once in your magical, charmed existence, but life really is a bitch. Ask anyone down here.

Those of us stuck here in the muck tend to pass our time smirking and shaking our heads at the asinine antics of Madoff and the Wall Street pricks and those dickweeds who handed out subprime mortgages to people who should not have been allowed within pissing distance of a bank, let alone a house.

But we really shouldn’t be laughing because the world is constructed of dominoes and, once those wobbly pieces started to fall in America, the effect was eventually felt everywhere. Even way down here in New Zealand, even way out here in the East Coast community where we live.

That’s why, thanks to the assorted jerkoffs listed above, I am currently unemployed. I gave up a decent freelance gig with the local newspaper to take on a full-time job — one that, unfortunately, depended on the spending of discretionary funds.

When people decided to be greedy and feed their children instead of removing a few extra body hairs or wrinkles, I was made redundant. Five weeks and gone. By that time, the newspaper had tightened its purse strings and raised the drawbridge, and there was no going back, not for a freelancer.

So when Bernard Madoff decided to take his friends and several worthwhile charities up the butt, he violated me as well. When moneylenders took advantage of under-financed borrowers, they also took advantage of me.

How do these people sleep at night, knowing the damage they’ve caused? How do they look at themselves in the mirror? How do they dare show their faces in public? And when they do, why can’t we shoot them?

In the meantime, Viking Woman and I survive by being careful and frugal. We’d count our pennies, except New Zealand no longer mints such a thing.

Personally, I get through each day by imagining a special Hell for those people who are at the root of these swindles of  mass destruction. In that imagined fire pit, those of us who have suffered grievous financial harm queue up to kick Bernard Madoff and all the other equally damned crooks square in the crotch.

And in this imagined place, I am at the front of that line.

Naturally, the punishment would last for all eternity. And I would take great pleasure in it for an equal amount of time.

It’s small consolation, I know, but sometimes it’s the small things that get us through each day.
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One Response to “Bernard Madoff made me squeal like a pig”

  1. I don’t think there are mirrors in Bernie’s cell … I’m not a Spielberg fan … but … what’s your problem with him … ?!!!

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