The USS Wall Street is sinking. As Democrats in Washington make a show of rearranging deck chairs, it's hard not to wonder what that deep, dark, cold water will feel like when it's up around the ankles... knees... chest... And it's hard to contain the anger at the captains and crew who sailed us into this iceberg, reassuring us all along they knew how and where to steer this unsinkable ship. Until suddenly, moments before we hit, they told us there might be a little problem ahead, and if we don't follow their orders, to the letter and without question, surely we must perish.
I'm pissed! How about you? The newly minted socialists on Wall Street have had years to fatten up, and now they will float better than most, even if their wingtips get a little waterlogged. Sure, there is talk of punitive measures, but I haven't seen anything yet that will really leave an impression on those whose arrogance and greed got us into this mess.
So here's an invitation to fantasize about just what sort of punishment might make an impression in Greenwich, Connecticut and on Park Avenue...
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