Toto, I don’t think we’re on Krypton anymore

An AIG employee applies for his share of $165 million in bonuses.
An AIG employee applies for his share of $165 million in bonuses.

In an early episode of the DC Comics feature “Tales of the Bizarro World,” in which the inhabitants do the exact opposite of all Earthly things, a salesman is doing a brisk trade selling Bizarro bonds: “Guaranteed to lose money for you.”

Ladies and gents, welcome to Bizarro World.

If I recall, the last cash bonus I got was $50 for saving a reporter from being hoodwinked by a school-board wiseass before her story about a fictional candidate for superintendent — Quincy Adams Wagstaff, late of Huxley College — could sneak into the pages of The New Mexican. I certainly never scored a cash payout for introducing libels into stories, throwing monkey wrenches into the presses or setting the newsroom afire.

If we were still on Earth, the 43 fools and/or thieves who run the AIG Financial Products unit — which as Steve Benen notes “was responsible for the company’s mess in the first place” — would be awarded custom-fit tuxedos of tar and feathers and chauffeured off to prison on splintery rails. But we do things backassward here on Bizarro World, and so they will get $165 million in bonuses after AIG soaked up $170 billion in taxpayer dollars.

As Josh Marshall notes at Talking Points Memo: “The folks running AIG’s financial products division should be happy to escape this mess without criminal indictments. And that’s not hyperbole. When you look at what they were doing, foolish or high-risk behavior are inadequate descriptors. It really amounts to fraud.”

Tom Sawyer lives

Must ... not ... buy ... new ... iMac ... ngggh.
Must ... not ... buy ... new ... iMac ... ngggh.

Many things demanded my attention today, but it was 70-something outdoors and so I showed them all a clean pair of heels. I went for a longish run-hike in Palmer Park, took the cats outdoors for an airing and in general wasted the day in creative loafing. Judge not lest ye be judged. You’re lucky I didn’t con you into whitewashing the fence.

If the economy perks up it’s because I bought some light groceries from Vitamin Cottage-Natural Grocers, not because I raced out to grab one of the updated iMacs or Mac Minis announced today. It’s just like the Black Turtleneck Mob to tempt me with shiny baubles after a week of herding dented and stained G4 and G3 relics from the digital tar pits. Get thee behind me, Apple.

It would be the height of stupidity for me to buy a new computer in these troubled times, working as I do in the publications industry, a career path with all the stability and longevity of a gig delivering nitroglycerin via pogo stick. So, naturally, I’ll probably do it. What the hell, it’s only money. Take out a loan, everybody does it. Dude, where’s my bailout? Surely I’m too big to fail. Just ask anyone who’s seen me in Lycra lately.

The basement tapes

Herself and I picked out vinyl, tile and carpet yesterday — now all we have to do is wait for the flooring dude to clear our choices with the property-restoration folks, who no doubt must consult the turd-herders. Then we’ll be in business, maybe, assuming that the contractor who handles the installation will not be buried in some other nightmare project.

Lots of other projects in greater cosmopolitan Bibleburg are playing red light-green light lately. A massive development project on North Nevada past Garden of the Gods has been dialed down to a Costco for the moment, while a similarly ambitious project on South Nevada has been placed on hold altogether.

One suburban-renewal project is continuing apace, however. Jimmy Dobson has stepped down as chairman of Focus on the Family. Dobson plans to spend his twilight years instructing his grandchildren in the dark arts of Republicanism, homophobia and hypocrisy while struggling to master a Biblical magic trick — stuffing a camel through the eye of a needle.

Stimulate my package

Don't leave home without it.
Don't leave home without it.

I’m not an economist. I don’t even play one on TV. So I don’t feel qualified to comment on the arcane machinations under way in Congress. But I do like this economic-stimulus proposal from Dan Newman, owner of a retail food store in Seattle: Send every U.S. taxpaper a $2,000 debit card.

Sure, the Repugs will call it socialism, a convenient catch-all phrase meaning “anything Rush Limbaugh doesn’t like.” But if I got me two large, I’m buyin’ something with it — goods, services or both — and someone has to provide them. Jobs, baby, jobs.

Case in point: Right now I’m not enjoying my usual week of “training camp”  at McDowell Mountain Regional Park outside Fountain Hills, Arizona, in part because of extended labor negotiations and in part because we just spent a ton of cash repairing Herself’s Subaru. But give me a debit card with a picture of Lady Liberty on it and I’m a gone dog, enriching gas stations, brewpubs, hotels, restaurants and campgrounds in three states.

New computer? Same old problem. This ol’ sumbitch limps worse than a three-legged hound with a butt full of buckshot, and I’d put it down in a New York minute if I had a brand-new one in line to replace it, but we seem to be short of simoleons in these parts. Where’s my ObamaCard®, honey? Whaddaya mean, there’s an elephant sitting on it? Well, shoot the fucker and at least we’ll have meat in the freezer!

Just 364 shopping days until Christmas

Are you out and about, greedily snapping up those post-Christmas deals? Me neither. And we have plenty of company, according to The New York Times. The dismal post-holiday buying follows a hideous pre-Christmas shopping season, as reported by The Wall Street Journal and passed along by Steve Benen at Political Animal, who is predicting widespread bankruptcies among retailers in the new year. Oh, goody.

I just took a drive through Bibleburg’s downtown after retrieving the Subie from Heuberger, and the sting in my wallet pocket failed to distract me from noting that Tejon Street wasn’t exactly rocking with shoppers. The malls may be doing a little better, but I’ll be damned if I’ll visit one to check it out. I hate those places. And anyway, I’m stony broke.