Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Wall Street and the Suits

Several incidents that directly have affected my own life have caused me to reflect on Wall Street and why so many citizens have staged protests across the country decrying the policies that have thrown the world into turmoil. I confess that I hold various banking accounts--as do most world citizens. My goal is not to be homeless when I'm old or imprisoned in some nursing home, surrounded by dementia-ridden patients. With the current economic situation strangling world finances, I may be working until I'm 150--if I'm lucky. However, I'm not one to moan about my own financial problems. Indeed, compared to what some people have gone through, I'm very fortunate this Thanksgiving Eve.
My relative prosperity has not blinded me to the greed and callousness of Wall Street. If I could withdraw my money without being taxed up the ass, I'd stuff the goods in my mattress, but the financial wizards have so worked it that we can't even withdraw the money for which we've slaved without being penalized. Let me pontificate on the indifference and callousness of Wall Street. The--primarily--men who run it are guilty of gross insensitivity and patronizing arrogance. During the summer, I met with my own advisor, an overweight, self-righteous pseudo-wizard. He'd managed to ruffle my proverbial feathers when he remarked that banks had given money to people who didn't "deserve a home." When he saw the look on my face, he quickly backpedaled, saying that they weren't "ready for a home." Now, I fully agree that many banks leant money to people who wanted homes bigger than they could afford, but I take great exception to the idea that some people "don't deserve a home." Who in hell does he think he is? Anyway, I went to Mr. Suit on an unrelated matter over the summer. He proceeded to lecture me as if I were some rube from nowhere or kid born yesterday. I realize it's his job to advise me, but when I say I want to do something else, it's his job to do as I say. It is money I slaved for in various teaching positions. If want to run away to Europe in a Roma caravan, I can do so and no puffed up piece of bourgeoise can tell me what to do, and frankly, I don't want to pour my money into funds that produce nothing and exploit others. Now, there was a time when I would have swallowed abuse because my family is of a class that this idiot would deem "not fit to own a home," but now, I don't put up with bullshit. I have more degrees than does this puffed up suit, and I pulled my money from his company.
Of course, I met even more ignorant, calloused pieces of crap along the way. I conveyed my goals to another suit who began to pontificate about what was best for ME. I understand he needs to trap another sucker for the next big swindle, but I'm not blinded by fancy talk from some suit. Reluctantly, the jerk off put my money where I demanded, but he looked like some round-faced, sulking kid. For whom does he work? Some giant, corrupt Wall Street firm? I don't want those idiots losing my hard-earned dollars or collecting them to exploit children sewing in a factory. I also expressed my concern to Mr. Suit that I didn't want to be some poor old person who was working at McDonald's because my money had evaporated. Mr. Suit had the unmitigated gall to say that these people hadn't planned well. No, you asshole, it's not always that. Not all of us have the resources to invest millions of dollars in stocks only to see companies abuse our trust. Some of us don't have millions to invest at all. Our means are modest, and we don't have the privilege of showing up in a shirt and tie to click a mouse behind a desk. Many of us earn our money by the sweat of our brow. Maybe these poor old people were given lousy advice by a moron like you who let their hard-earned money evaporate in a corporate collapse like we had a few years ago. Not every poor person is badly off because he or she was careless or a spendthrift. Many of them were duped by the promises of a bunch of parasites who received bailouts and then took bonuses. Maybe some of those poor souls flipping burgers at Mickie D's took the advice of Mr. Suit and his crummy associates. They put their faith in banks and greedy, incompetent businesses.
I'm sick of people who consider themselves "elite." Even my spin instructor, whose main talent is screaming "Up," has made ugly comments about people who died during Katrina. No, bimbo, not everyone could just leave. Not everyone had the resources to do so, and if you open your mouth again, I'll report your stupidity to the gym management. I'm sick of bullshit, and to Mr. Suit: My pulling my money from your bank will be the least of your problems. I'll put you in my novel. No, wait! I'd never write about anyone so boring!


  1. Well put! I'm with you! Do put them in your novel, but in the novel, they can get what they so richly deserve. (pun intended)