Brilliant bosses give themselves 300% raises while demanding 50% pay cut from stupid workers

GM Diesel in London used to be considered a good gig. Had an interview there once. Didn't hear back. Four months later when they called me in for my physical I was busy with something else.

That was somewhere in the early nineties. GM Diesel was a General Motors sideline that didn't get a lot of attention from the hundreds of vice-presidents at head office. They were too busy brain-storming up crap like the Pontiac Aztec to sweat a little locomotive sideline.

In 2005 GM got out of the locomotive business. They had wanted to sell to Caterpillar but the deal was vetoed by the unions, the UAW and the CAW. So they sold to a couple of hedge funds instead.

Five years later the hedge fund boys doubled their money by selling to, guess who, Caterpillar! If you're a suit at Greenbriar or Berkshire Partners, you don't give a shit what the union fellows think. It's not like you're going to need their cooperation tomorrow.

Now that Caterpillar is in the driver's seat the fun has begun. They've locked out that London plant. Want the CAW lads to take a 50% wage cut. The UAW guys at their new locomotive plant in Indiana have already settled for the lower wage structure. The message is simple. You can keep your job at half pay, or you can have no job; we can easily build this stuff in Indiana.

Caterpillar also has facilities in Mexico. When the next contract comes up in Indiana, you can guess what the simple message will be that Caterpillar has for the Indiana workers.

It's called the NAFTA effect.

Meanwhile, the suits at head office are doing very nicely for themselves. Doug Oberhelman took over the CEO office and had his pay quadruple to over 10 million. The outgoing top dog, Jim Owens, tripled his final year compensation as a way of thanking himself for his many years of visionary leadership. He took home over 20 million last year.

That too is called the NAFTA effect.

Iran ups Mid-East tensions; threatens to defend Iran

Iran made a fresh move to ratchet up tensions today, implying that they would defend themselves in the event they were attacked by the US.

The Iranian statement is seen as a grave threat by military experts. It comes days after Iran test fire a missile and held "war games" in the Strait of Hormuz.

"Iran is making a very clear threat," says Simon Henderson of the Washington Institute for Near East Policy, a so-called think tank that has never seen an oil-rich middle-east nation that we shouldn't control.

"The people of the towel must submit to manifest destiny or risk the wrath of the masters of the universe. Resistance is futile."

The bullshitter's ultimate dream job: economist

I've said it before but it bears repeating; some jobs are easier to bullshit than others.

Therapists of all stripes pretty much have carte blanche to make stuff up. After all, that person in the chair across from you is already screwed in the head - how are they gonna know?

Financial analyst. Look at Jim Cramer. He was flogging Lehman Brothers shares on national TV till the day the wheels fell off. Did that hurt his career?

Or how about political commentator? I was listening to Charles Krauthammer for a spell last night. It's obvious the man inhabits some mysterious parallel universe, but by golly he's made a good career out of it.

But the pinnacle of the shit pile has to belong to the economist. And when you get really really good at it, you'll become a senior economist, just like Todd Hirsch at ATB Financial.

Hirsch is without a doubt a glass-half-full kind of guy. Hell, he sees the glass half full even after you've smashed it and used the shards to slash your wrists!

Hirsch has figured out why America's unemployment rate is so high; it's the government's extension of unemployment benefits beyond 26 weeks! And all along I thought it was because there weren't enough jobs. What a stunned twat I am!

Not to worry though. Hirsch has given his crystal ball a good rub and he sees nothing but happy days ahead.

When extended benefits run out for ten million Americans, they're going to take the jobs they've been turning their noses up at while lounging around waiting for the next government check: gas station attendant and pizza delivery! I'm not making this up; Hirsch's insights appear on page A13 of today's Globe and Mail.

Here's how things will shake out under Hirsch's plan for economic recovery:

Smart workers in these menial jobs will say "I can do this differently" or "I have an idea that will revolutionize pizza delivery."


That will inspire an entire new economy!

Yup. If you or I said it, folks would just tell us we're full of shit.

But when a "senior economist" is full of shit, he's given a column in a national newspaper from which to spray it around.

Afghan soldiers enjoying freedom... to rape children

Seems that ten years after we liberated them from the evils of the Taliban, things aren't yet all that great for the women and children of Afghanistan.

Here's a little taste of Afghan social justice from page ten of today's newspaper of record:

A fifteen year old girl who was nearly tortured to death by her husband and his family attempted to escape but was sent back by local authorities.

These would be local authorities that we put in power and keep in power. Do we have any responsibility for the atrocities they commit day in and day out?

This stuff might occassionally pop up on page ten but then it conveniently goes away again. A couple of years ago the story of routine boy rape by Afghan police and soldiers made its way into our news. But just briefly. It's certainly not something we want to think about, that the people we support and empower rape children as a matter of course.

So the story goes away, but the behaviour doesn't. We train them, we equip them, we send them guns and money, and we look the other way when they sodomize twelve year old boys.

Meanwhile, our leaders still claim we've done great things for the Afghan people.

Enjoying your freedom, boys and girls?

T'was the night before Iowa

T'was the night before Iowa
and all through the state
not a creature was resting
too much was at stake

Michele is seeking
some help from the lord
to shake up her voters
who she knows are quite bored

Romney is taking
his experts to task
for answers to questions
the voters will ask

Gingrich is phoning
his friend Adelson
to ask if he thinks
any more can be done

Ron Paul is sleeping
quite snug in his bed
with visions of victory
alive in his head.


 -with thanks and apologies to C.C. Moore

Israel allocates funds to help former soldiers become sushi chefs

Found this heart-warming story in Haaretz today.

Seems that when IDF soldiers are demobilized they'll have a chance of being trained up as sushi chefs.

Why? Because there's a shortage of sushi chefs. The training is free. And, at the end of the free training, there is the guarantee of a job! In fact, chefs with Asian cooking skills are in such short supply the government pays a bonus to graduates who stay in their job placement at least a year.

I say why not!

It's certainly a stark contrast to how American vets are treated when they come home.

"Sorry you lost your job and your house and your family pal, but when duty calls, duty calls. Good luck to ya.

Now get the fuck outta here. God bless America!"

Biker beating leaves star teen athlete brain-damaged

I love Randy like a brother.

Happy go lucky sort of chap. Met when we were both hired on at Saint John Shipbuilding.

Not the sharpest bulb in the toolshed, as they say, and I was shocked when I found out it hadn't always been that way.

If Randy had a flaw it was that he didn't know how to talk his way out of a fight. Or walk away from one.

There are lots of times of course when you don't need to, but if you've got your wits about you, you'll recognize the times that you do. If the odds are better than 50-50 that you're going to have the crap beat out of you, I say put plan B or C into action. Randy couldn't do that.

I saw that first hand one night when Randy and me and our apprentice Clayton were sitting around waiting for a painting crew. One of the painters, kid about 23 or so, mentioned he had a black belt in one of the martial arts. Randy took that as a challenge. They had a bout right there and then, which came out indecisive.

Well, next night, same thing, except kung-fu boy gets the upper hand. So almost every night after that, whenever we cross paths with the painters, Randy and the kid get to jawing at one another, and it usually culminates in a brief battle that goes one way or another. But you can see that this is heading to a place where they're going to have to settle it once and for all.

Now as for me, I'm closer to middle age than brawling age at this time, and I think the whole thing is stupid, but you don't want to let your buddies down. Clayton thought it was stupid too, but he knew the code.

Clayton was a young black kid built like an NFL running back. Played on my baseball team. Wasn't the kind of guy to take shit from anybody. Told me about one night in south Saint John he'd got into a verbal altercation with a fellow at a party. Clayton was on the sidewalk, Buddy was in the house, and like I said, they were verbally altercating.

At one point Clayton says, "oh, you are, are ya, you and what army", whereupon Buddy and six of his friends come out and proceeded to lay a thrashing on poor Clayton. Which was how Clayton came to see the wisdom of a plan B or a plan C.

So one night it's agreed that after our shift, which ended at midnight, kung-fu painter and Randy would settle things at the underpass on the tracks behind the yard. Have to admit I felt a little stupid being there, as did Clayton. Randy was at least fifteen years older than his adversary. That's fifteen years of smoking and drinking and indulging his love of the finest Bekaa Valley cheese.

Things turned out pretty much as I expected. Randy had experience on his side and looked good in the early going, but he couldn't match the stamina of a guy fifteen years younger who actually worked out and practiced. Randy tapped out, there's handshakes all around between the two crews, and me and Clayton walk Randy home.

After getting cleaned up and a few drinks in him, Randy starts in about how he really could take kung-fu kid. Well, geez, Randy, I thought we just settled that?

As I got to know him better, I figured out two things about Randy. He had a knack for antagonizing people, and he didn't know when to quit.

I also learned that Randy had been a star on his high-school track team back in Collingwood, and not only that, but he'd been an A student. That didn't jibe with the guy I knew.

Eventually we got the story. Randy was in his last year of high school. His future was brighter than bright. He could pick and choose between college scholarships. He was simultaneously in a bar at Wasaga Beach, a bar frequented by bikers from far and wide.

Randy had his eye on a couple of the ladies who had arrived with the bikers. These were full patch guys from out of town. Words were exchanged. Randy offered to settle things in the parking lot. They took him up on his offer.

Now, here is where I have to say that Randy was the author of his own misfortune. First of all, poor choice in seeking out female companionship. Secondly, once he got to the words-exchanged part of the story, he should have recognized the need for a plan B.

Randy held the school district record for the hundred yard dash. That could have been his salvation. Have you ever seen a biker run a hundred yard dash?

Randy went from the parking lot to the EU in an ambulance. When he came out of his coma the college scholarships were off the table.

Settled for an apprenticeship at the shipyard instead.