last night, while i was on the phone with my co-conspirator, who shall remain nameless, i had an idea. the more i see the stock markets jumping up and down, the more i see companies like AIG and Barclays spending their respective governments' bailout money on rich trips for executives, and the more i read about people finally admitting that these financial instruments that helped to get us into this mess are just as ethereal to them as they are to us average joes, and their long-term effects just as unknown...the more i think my idea last night is a good one. what is this revolutionary idea?
fire all the CEOs of these financial institutions and insurance companies and hire Beavis and Butt-Head in their places.
at least Beavis and Butt-Head are too stupid to get the economy in any more trouble than it's alread in. they'd be too dumb to set up junkets for executives, devise sneaky investment strategies to try and circumvent the market downturn, or make excuses for all of the greedy and short-sighted things that the old executives have done in the past. instead, the government could mandate that they make a meagre salary, and they wouldn't complain like current executives would. they'd go spend it on nachos and slushies. if some executive vice president walked into their office and asked for approval of some harebrained scheme, the conversation would go something like this:
male stuffed-suit: i've got this great idea for how we can stop losing so much money. can we [troubled asset relief cash management credit swaps mortgage-based securities blah blah blah string of financial jargon]?
Beavis: shut up, asswipe! now, go get me some more nachos.
or, it may sound something like this:
female stuffed-suit: i've got a plan for some blatantly illegal yet immensely profitable naked short-selling.
Beavis: whoa! she said naked!
Butt-Head: come to Butt-Head. huh-huh.
is this going to help? probably not. but, would this give us as good a chance as any to stem the bleeding, buy some time, and keep the fat cats out of the economists' hair, so they can take much needed time puzzling through what kind of pickle we're actually in, and what chance there is to actually fix it instead of slapping a pork-laden band-aid on it.
it can't hurt.