Reports coming in that Homeboy Hosni Custer Mubarak has taken the helicopter to the southern resort city of of Sharm el-Sheik.
Remember the Paulson Effect in 2008? Every time Henry Paulson appeared on TV to assure ever'body that ever'thing wuz jes' fahn', the stock market would tank several hundred points.
Remember the Gore Effect? Everywhere Al Gore goes, a blizzard follows. He must be back in Nashville this week. We got hammered, and it's 10 degrees outside this morning.
We now have the Mubarak Effect: Every time the senile old man gives one of his speeches, another 100,000 really pissed-off Egyptians hit the streets. It's so crowded now, there's no room to send in the goons-on-camels squad. The army is smiling and waving, just on hand to keep the crowd from burning the palace and TV studios down. They're handing out bottles of water and rations to the crowd at the palace...
The AlJazeera live feed is here.
There's a great old Russian joke:
Stalin dies, and Nikita Kruschev eventually is named to take over. His first day on the job, the office manager sez: Joe left you four envelopes and a note he sez you should read. So, Nikita opens the desk drawer, and, sure enough, there they are. The note sez--Comrade, you will face four major crises. As each one occurs, open the envelopes in order, numbered 1,2,3,4. Good luck, comrade!
The first crisis arrives--the economy tanks. Dark days, so Nikita opens envelope number 1. The message is: Blame me! So Kruschev begins the de-Stalinization campaign, and he's a hero.
Second crisis: The grain crop fails. Envelope 2: Blame the Chinese! Works like a charm--everybody hates the Chinese.
Third crisis: Eastern Europe's going off the rails. Envelope 3: Blame the Americans
Off to the UN, bangs the podium with his shoe, acts like a horse's ass, the folks back home love it.
Fourth crisis: The economy tanks, again. It's really bad this time.
Fourth envelope: Comrade! Prepare four envelopes!
Maybe Hosni was preparing his set of envelopes...and giving the staff time to shred the records, transfer the funds to Panama, pack up the bullion and antiquities.
He best not delay too long...that Custer guy, he decided to push on one more mile and not wait for reinforcements.
That worked out well.
Showing posts with label Custer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Custer. Show all posts
Friday, February 11, 2011
President Mubarak, Meet General Custer
To get things started, this is just one reaction to Homeboy Hosni's performance last night.
And, the Al-Jazeera live blog now underway...
A few questions come to mind, like, 'What the hell was he thinking? Just how senile is he?, (and) Who the hell let him on the air to give that speech? Did he write that drivel himself?'
There's a real problem with a life of unbroken successes: Humility, sweet humility, gained by failure, is never garnered. The one thing most needed, especially by those who lead, is absent when most needed. It is the raw material of tragedy: Greek, Shakespearean, and contemporary.
It's what got Custer and all his men killed that day. He'd never even lost a skirmish along the way in his storied career; and he knew better than his junior officers, and his non-coms, and his scouts, all of whom knew that the entire Sioux nation had gathered for the sole purpose of gathering his blond scalp. And no one dared disobey, or confront, or pull their unit out of the line. It was 'do or die', and sure enough, they all died.
OS once visited the site of the battle, and was immediately struck with the thought, 'What kind of idiot would lead his troops out into this exposed position, even without the entire Sioux nation on the warpath?' And OS is no military guy, a civilian to the core. It was that obvious. To everyone except George Armstrong Custer.
So, as OS retires to bed this evening, knowing that a tragedy is unfolding before the eyes of the world, he plans to say an extra prayer of thanks for all those failures he's experienced and survived. He prays for all those kids with their educations, their hopes, and their mobile devices, flooding the streets of Cairo. He has kids that age, and it's hard to watch. A number of them won't survive the weekend, likely, and moms and dads will have children to bury next week.
And, he prays for an extra teaspoon of humility in his morning coffee.
And, the Al-Jazeera live blog now underway...
A few questions come to mind, like, 'What the hell was he thinking? Just how senile is he?, (and) Who the hell let him on the air to give that speech? Did he write that drivel himself?'
There's a real problem with a life of unbroken successes: Humility, sweet humility, gained by failure, is never garnered. The one thing most needed, especially by those who lead, is absent when most needed. It is the raw material of tragedy: Greek, Shakespearean, and contemporary.
It's what got Custer and all his men killed that day. He'd never even lost a skirmish along the way in his storied career; and he knew better than his junior officers, and his non-coms, and his scouts, all of whom knew that the entire Sioux nation had gathered for the sole purpose of gathering his blond scalp. And no one dared disobey, or confront, or pull their unit out of the line. It was 'do or die', and sure enough, they all died.
OS once visited the site of the battle, and was immediately struck with the thought, 'What kind of idiot would lead his troops out into this exposed position, even without the entire Sioux nation on the warpath?' And OS is no military guy, a civilian to the core. It was that obvious. To everyone except George Armstrong Custer.
So, as OS retires to bed this evening, knowing that a tragedy is unfolding before the eyes of the world, he plans to say an extra prayer of thanks for all those failures he's experienced and survived. He prays for all those kids with their educations, their hopes, and their mobile devices, flooding the streets of Cairo. He has kids that age, and it's hard to watch. A number of them won't survive the weekend, likely, and moms and dads will have children to bury next week.
And, he prays for an extra teaspoon of humility in his morning coffee.
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