God Bless Corporate Dick!!!

Some points to consider, or Tips From A CEO.

Remember in this day and age profits are evil, non profits are bad, but bonuses are always warranted, in good times and bad.

From Exxon to Washington Mutual, from the East coast to the West, the only thing wrong for any CEO, is to not make a lot of green from the environment.

Pave the Planet, and Save the Males, The Universe is falling, and time will tell the tale.

Red rover red rover send Al Gore on over… uh… please don’t send Al Gore on over…. Unless it is over there which is way far away from over here...

Brought to you by the National Green Corporation to Make You Feel Good About Buying Green Products That Are No Earth Friendlier Than Other Than Green Products.

CD
Sometimes when you see something you do not notice it.

Hello Trolly

Hello Trolly. I am not sure where I am but know that I am not in my email. You know the sign that things are going well is when all you get in your email inbox are those messages from the system administrator that tell you your email message was sent and received or that so and so read your email. What a concept. Somethings are simply incomprehensible. How could anyone believe that unless they were themselves a CEO. So Trolly I looked down just now and noticed something appears wrong. Not only do my feet feel and appear to be pointing behind me, but one of my top advisers has taken umbrage amongst me. I feel they may be plying me with some type of cavil revelry. Though I may be contrite and convey some leveled acumen of parsimonious content, one cannot denounce my sentient being. This is what sets me apart Trolly. I am a disparate canorous susurrus assiduous lacuna surrounded with trepidation yet sacrosanct in an outre nonage of todays mendacious verdure. Perhaps it was or is from the fire. Where are you Trolly?

CD
Sometimes you must promenade alone. If you are moving forward and everyone or everything else is moving backwards then you have not moved at all.

APB - ALERT! Corporate Dick Missing

This is Trolly. To all, CD has gone missing. We are all looking for him with great urgency. Please help us find Corporate Dick. He is of variable height, somewhat thin, gray complexion, faceless features, and wearing blue pants. Use extreme caution and notify Corporate Dick Headquarters. He may be kicking employees in the nuts or hallucinating that he is bleeding to death. We are unsure what position the light switch was last in. Please try to hear what he is saying, mainly if what he is saying sounds like nonsensical ramblings or common sense. This will allow us to determine the issue with the light switch.

Please help us find CD. Thank You.

Trolly

Feeling Wimpy

Feeling Wimpy? You should. You showed up for work as usual. What a putz. So what if you are feeling like an amalgam of fustian cronyism. Upper management is more likely to promote those they relate too and feel most comfortable with. With that stated why not try and be more like upper management. Use your sick time on Fridays or Mondays so they know you are just like them, one who cringes two day weekends and knows the vital importance of being away from the office. It increases productivity when you are not there.

CD
Sometimes the smallest things are the largest of all.

Pretending

So I prepare to leave. I left. Good bye. The airliner hits the confluent currents just over 31,000 feet. We drop instantly 2,000 feet. The sop behind me figured he did not need that seat belt while seated and was instantly smashed into the overhead storage bin. The snapping of his neck and the simultaneous crushing of his nose into his eye sockets exploded a noise I hope to never hear again. I am just glad he had no chance to make any human sounds of agony. The starboard engine raced then went silent and immediately after the jolt of the plane catching its wings horizontally the several pukers began their chores. Just then the port engine went silent and the angle of our adventure began to descend nose first. I thought briefly in my usual sardonic manner ... lets see them serve those little snacks now... and ...guess there is nothing like being the movie instead of seeing it... the plane was now almost vertical and the g forces were uncomfortable to say the least. I had heard that to get the engines started again that the pilots would have to take a nose dive to do so. I hoped that was what was going on. I began to wonder what the impact will be like when we hit the ocean at this rate. I thought of the movie Castaway. No doubt that was just a movie. I thought about all the dweebs back at the corporate office. Living their safe little lives. Pretending all was well. Faking happiness as they survived one form or another of their self inspired morbidity. I felt a momentary halcyon state from within. Too bad it could not stay forever. We should be gone anytime as seconds sustained themselves across that suspension of time that turns the speed of light into a tortoise pace of slow motion. I thought of Trolly. I know I will miss her. She always provided me a repose of that one who always insisted on getting what one wants through erratic means. She reminded me of myself. In that regard I think we were alike. Both wanting that elusive steady constant that was ever absent within. But what can you do? So it is. The sound of an engine can faintly be heard. I muster every ounce of strength to turn my head towards a window to see whatever I can. Fuck! I swear I see the silhouetted gray gloved hand. Ha! I shout. Where is your controlling light switch now asshole!

CLICK

That bitch! Scrambling wench! I feel as though I am infected with tourettes. Ham fucking biscuits do not exist in a free market enterprise dip shit! Bring it on you dilapidated anchor of excuses! Capital in excess of preferred share warrants can only lead to short term debt embedded in quality circles you corporate dick! Get out of my office! Trolly call the attorneys and get me a double shot of espresso. Private placements have multiple meanings. Tomatoes are going to hit seven dollars a pound which will drive up the cost of precious metals and the increased demand for epoxy and other products such as fiberglass. Twit!

CLICK

What determines when the light switch is turned on or off I thought to myself. The sound of another engine coming to life roared in my ears. To be honest the sound of the engines now were quite compared to their brief absence. I felt the nose of the vessel start towards a horizontal rise. A calm seemed to wash away the intensity of it all. I looked forward for any sign of Trolly. Then wondered if any external damage existed to the plane as it came to a normal position passengers are accustomed too. I look out the window and see Saipan. No doubt we will be landing at Guam very shortly. Tokyo will have to wait a bit. Pretending is fun huh? My peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the gray gloved hand...

CD
Sometimes taking control of your existence returns just that.

It Goes On

The losses continue to mount on top of each previous loss growing to an enormous pinnacle of demonstrative excellence in corporate performance. No one hollers more like a loser than a loser. The smart ones capitalize on the unfortunate and exploit the political canter calls of injustice, that would be the enormous profits big oil companies are experiencing. One after another spews out the same message to the street ...Our losses continue to grow as our margins diminish exponentially in relation to the increase in the cost of energy resources... Then its my turn to face the shareholders and the board. I glance across the room as my name is announced. My speech has become rote just by listening to all the others. I spy Trolly sitting at one of our major shareholders table, and she appears differently today. She seems immaculately dressed for the occasion but abundantly remiss in her top priority to watch as many light switches as possible. I sooth any fear with my innate confidence of a great CEO, the greatest CEO ever. The applause begins and I stride towards the podium. I think to myself that they better have the company logo displayed appropriately in the same fashion as the presidential seal. I start my salutations all the while looking out across the room full of bobbling heads of wealth. It is here, in rooms like this, that the real direction of the country is determined. From economics to wars. I finish thanking those who have done the work and look to my right just behind the curtain and I see the hand appear. So eloquently encased in a majestic gray glove. I look over to Trolly and see she has just started to excuse herself from the table. I feel the anticipation wince throughout my being. I attempt to deliver the jest of my speech ...As my predecessor once said, in times like these we do not need... I turned my head to look for the gray gloved hand... I knew Trolly wouldn't reach it in time.

CLICK

...if pickles came in a dry jar we could save more energy than any shooting star and still melt the ice in the freezer instead of using the term defrost. Seriously, who would ever think that the previously unknown Reverend Wright would become a media superstar as we sit now for the past 30 days or so waiting with sensationalized anxiety as the media pundits, the true hate and fear mongers, continue to dig and dwell into 20 years of pastoral history that might show proof that this reverend has been involved in terrorism. Any terrorism. Where is the destructive results from the patrons of his church? Certainly after 20 years one would think a militia had been formed ...I realize I am on a roll... If there is nothing of substance then why is there a non issue of insurmountable discursiveness? Ah the scared conservatives and the political antidotes of sinister strategy deployment. Pretzels have more twists with or without salt... I wonder where Trolly is as I continue. ...Connecting speaker wires correctly will return proper sound but connecting the negative wire to the positive connection will wreak havoc with unpredictable implications...

CLICK

I see Trolly retreating from the light switch. There is a barely visible mist of gray with crystal like reflections dissipating. The crowd seems stunned or in awe. I try to recall my diatribe. There is silence that stretches for hundreds of years inside the 7 seconds that have ticked away. I reiterate ...It seems we have more to concern ourselves with than just depressing margins that once returned sweet profits but now become cloy through perpetually living in the moment and never looking forward. ... So let us now blame big oil alone as the giant albatross they have always been, but rather let us shake a stern finger, a solid universal symbolic finger, towards the true root cause of our current predicament... Raise your finger and salute the big three automakers for not guiding things towards a greener vision... Thank you.

CD
Sometimes all is lost even when there is no wind to fill the sails.