Confessions of a not so Dangerous Mind: Aspirations vs. Reality

Exile allows the werewolf plenty of time to think. Too much, sometimes. The werewolf is a late twenty-something with a liberal arts degree, MBA, and several years of diversified professional experience in financial services, tobacco, and politics. Although described by some as an eccentric, he's your average aspirational American white dude trying to make sense of this struggle called life.

We all dream of the ideal where, what, and who we are, or shall become. For the likes of Mr. Day (see previous post), it manifests itself rather tragically, and ends pathetically. For others, it matures on a more realistic level. One of the werewolf's closest friends, a hot-shot attorney, aspires to a judgeship. The werewolf has other friends who realistically aspire to things like being a good father, a respected writer and author, a successful entrepreneur, a senator, and so on. All admirable, some realistic, and each honest in its own way. He did have an acquaintance during his undergraduate at Emory who vociferously aspired to become a dictatorial Sri Lankan strongman, while also boasting about being in a pilates class with former First Lady Rosalyn Carter. (The werewolf still isn't sure which was weirder, the dictatorial dream, or lying about pilates with a former First Lady)

The werewolf has his own conundrum. If he could be the architect of fate, the werewolf would like to have been a great white hunter in Africa during the late 19th or early 20th century, or a Rhett Butler-esque gentleman mercenary, fighting for just, but lost causes. He'd have settled for being on the frontier of the British Empire during it's nascent stage development, or being an official in President Teddy Roosevelt's State Department. Sadly, those doors were slammed shut long before the werewolf was ever conceived, so he doesn't have to worry about being seduced into some pathetic lying scheme regarding the things he never can be. The werewolf is perfectly content with harboring and nurturing those pursuits in the wild wilderness of his imagination. In the meantime, the werewolf has settled for an aspiration of not living a life of quiet desperation. He knows the world will never be his oyster, but when exile ends, as long as it ends with something that has an element of excitement, travel, or pursuit of a cause (lost or not), but bigger than he, the werewolf will accept those terms and engage with the reckless vitality that has been pent-up in exile. He'll know when these terms present themselves. In the meantime, the werewolf will never run up the white flag of surrender or become beholden to boring conformity. That is something he'll never lie about, and will take to the grave. Here's to staying true and chasing aspirations.

Ass clown of the week and lives of desperation.

The Times of London has an amusing, and slightly sad, article about Roger Day, this week's biggest ass clown.

In order to impress a woman more than two decades his junior, Mr. Day began moonlighting as a fabulist. In essence, he was a British working class version of The New Republic's, legendary liar and fraudster, Stephen Glass, albeit on a much smaller scale. According to the article, Mr. Day, who never served in the active British military, frequently claimed he was a war hero worthy of Homeric legend. The picture featured in the article shows Mr. Day wearing a bracket of medals that would make the likes of General George Patton blush. What's really amusing is that his collection of false medals span conflicts from the Second World War to the First Gulf War, pre and post dating this guy's viable soldiering years. You'd think a man intent on putting up a believable charade would have done a little due diligence. Aren't the best liars the ones who stick closest to the truth? Whether it was a life of quiet desperation, missed opportunity, or the continual need to impress his younger wife(she was freakin' married to him, the game is up buddy, you won) the werewolf was pleased that Day's folly and charade were exposed. Society should reserve its gratitude and respect for those who both earned and deserve it.

The Color of Money: What the heck happened to Tom Cruise?

Although a creature with a night streak, the werewolf has found that one of exile's nasty side effects is occasional, yet, acute insomnia. He'll probably have to start self-medicating if it persists.

This scene from The Color of Money is one of the werewolf's favorites. Warren Zevon's Werewolves of London is blasting, that unto itself is epic. Ahhwooooo....

Plus, anything with Paul Newman is cool.

However, it reminds the werewolf that Tom Cruise used to be a respectable actor and begs the question, what the hell happened?

Although the werewolf has always gravitated more towards Steve McQueen, Gregory Peck, Cary Grant, Sean Connery, and other actors who represent man at his best, he recognizes talent when he sees it. The energy of Tom Cruise's hustle in this scene is phenomenal. The werewolf also grew up on films like Top Gun, Risky Business, Rain Man, and A Few Good Men. Plus, he appreciates Cruise in Jerry Mcguire and Collateral, and the point of the post isn't to berate Cruise for the latest series of bad movie choices(no shortage of those), but to just lament how a likable actor like Cruise, has lost his mojo, credibility, and respect.

Between all of the weird and excessive Scientology ties, the bizarre publicity shenanigans around his marriage to Katie Holmes, the deep-sixing of Nicole Kidman, the juvenile stunts on Oprah, and just a weird modern presence, Cruise's stock is trading very low on the werewolf's exchange. The werewolf doesn't want to hate the guy who etched Maverick, Joel Goodsen, Vincent Lauria, or Jerry Maguire into his young impressionable mind. However, every time he sees Cruise in a modern context, even in the trailer for an upcoming film, the werewolf get's a weird and creepy vibe. The werewolf can't put his paw on it, because he still enjoys and respects some of Hollywood's human train-wrecks, like Robert Downey, Jr. Perhaps it's just the sad state of modern celebrity, but somewhere along the line Tom Cruise lost control of his brand value, or it lost him.

Goal! Fox Scores America's Hockey Mom!

Sarah Palin has signed a lucrative contract to be a Fox News contributor. Smart move for both Palin and Fox News. Regardless of your politics, it's hard to refute Sarah Palin's rock star image with huge swaths of the population and is an excellent move to increase Fox News's already astounding dominance in the cable news field.

The werewolf is agnostic on Palin. There are elements to her narrative he enjoys and respects, believes her to be a gifted politician, and he thinks she was subjected to a disgusting double standard during the campaign. However, she clearly wasn't ready for prime time, lacks focus and discipline, and he is unsure of how her frontier populism will play in the long-term. He thinks this a brilliant move on her part, it integrates her into the mainstream, pulls her out of the Alaska orbit, and gives her a chance to refine and hone herself as her future sorts itself out. He doesn't think she'll be the nominee in 2012(hopes not, too), but will play the role of kingmaker for the GOP. Well done, Sarah.

As for Fox News, this is a huge victory for them. Having an audience larger than all other cable news networks combined is an impressive feat. Given that news is a business, it amazes the werewolf that so many outlets leave so much of the market- revenue pie - untouched. Fox can enjoy the lion's share of market and profits, while the rest of the media midgets squabble over shrinking portions and crumbs. Well done.

Olson on gay marriage, can this be a "Nixon goes to China" moment for conservatives?

Former Bush administration Solicitor General, and veteran of the Reagan administration, Ted Olson, has penned a thought-provoking piece in Newsweek advocating a "conservative" case for gay marriage. The werewolf has traditionally been indifferent to the issue and had a historic preference for "civil-unions." Although, after extensive conversations with his legal beagle lawyer buddy in DC, and generally just allowing his libertarianesque social beliefs to trump his inclination for certain traditions, he is kosher with gay marriage. That being said, he'll never be on the front lines, or make it an issue that commands his passions. Also, the werewolf holds a skepticism toward making societal decisions via judicial decree, however, there is something to be said about the "tyranny of the majority" and the assumed supremacy of the democratic process. As standards and norms evolve, the werewolf thinks the two aforementioned forces work best in tandem and validate the issue of gay marriage accordingly. All that aside, the government probably ought not be in the marriage arena to begin with, but that conversation will occur elsewhere.

There is a rub throughout all of this. The werewolf holds utter contempt for most leaders of the so-called "gay rights movement." The very people who see being gay as an extension of left wing politics and are incapable of divorcing the two. For them it's all about pushing a partisan agenda. These are the same people who give Barack Obama a pass for unequivocally being against gay marriage, while slamming Dick Cheney for not being enough of dissident in the Bush administration, despite being a strong advocate for gay marriage himself. Those shallow actions, beyond eroding my respect for this empty leadership class, have relegated me to the side-lines of this debate. The werewolf can not, in good faith, directly support such vacant and crudely partisan types in an issue that he believes transcends petty partisan politics.

Interesting times are ahead regarding this debate. That's for certain.

Entreprenuership and Efficient Energy in Africa.

The werewolf recently stumbled onto the technology blog White African via Instapundit. Excellent web destination! There's a great post on the introduction of low cost solar technology to the Kenyan market. The werewolf is fascinated by such things, and thinks observing them will be revealing in how to both potentially understand the pitfalls of solar technologies for developed energy grids, as well as monitoring a potential, and long overdue entrepreneurial revolution in Africa(qualified statement).

Firstly, the werewolf has always loved the old joke "What did Africa have before fire?"

Drum-roll for dramatic effect...


ELECTRICITY!

There's a very long, tired debate about the nature of colonialism both pro and con. The werewolf has no interest in going there right now. Although, it's crystal clear to anyone who has spent any time in Africa, that the crumbling foundations of the old colonial infrastructures are still in primary use in most countries. It's a sad statement, especially in light of the billions of dollars in foreign aid that has been wasted in Africa over the last four decades, with so little to show.

Anyhow, the werewolf is skeptical of how aggressively certain "green technologies" are being subsidized and pushed in the United States. He likes the concept very much, but still thinks the technologies need to mature and have better applications for integration before they can be viable for widespread adaptation. He doesn't think "going green" with theoretical, feel-good technologies, that are being propped up through extensive tax credits and subsidies will have a long-term positive effect, or is truly more efficient at this stage in the game.

However, by keeping keen eyes on a nation like Kenya, where the infrastructure is archaic, the demand for modernization legit, and the ability to by-pass a traditional western developed energy grid is possible. It seems like a great incubator for really understanding the power of mobile solar energy capture is being presented. The nascent stages, as mentioned in the article are about raising awareness and usurping the dependence on kerosene, yet, since the grid is worthless, watching the scale of small operations dependent on solar ramp-up over the next few years (assuming it all works), could providing fascinating insight in how to integrate such technology into a developed grid. Also, given that many Africans who will likely adopt this technology are living in rough market conditions, and the spirit of ingenuity tends to thrive in such places, a raft of new applications may be uncovered.

The werewolf thinks certain hypes are unwarranted, but in this case, he'll keep his eyes on Africa in the hopes that long-term aspirations of inexpensive, renewable, and easy energy application lessons can be learned. In the meantime, let's build some nukes on the home front.

London prepares to "hoist with own petard."

There is irony in this Daily Telegraph article about a pending skirmish between London's boy-wonder Mayor, Boris Johnson, and Labour's Treasury Select Committee, a.k.a., the taxmen. As the financial downturn has crushed major western financial centers like New York, London, Hong Kong, Chicago, Geneva, and Zurich, governments have experienced sharp reductions in tax revenues as jobs vanished. It's the natural order of things. However, this clash between Johnson and the taxmen could have some interesting implications for the full recovery of London.

The taxmen want to target wealthy bankers, by imposing a windfall tax of 50% on bonuses in excess of £25,000(about $44,800). While this is estimated to impact between 9,000-10,000 bankers in London, the long-term impact could be devastating to London's financial service sector recovery. Dropping aside the odious elements of class warfare and populist exploitation that are partially fueling Labour's rationale, the werewolf is shocked that the British government is seriously picking a fight on this issue. This sends a clear signal to all financial service employers that the British government isn't serious about recovery and could potentially prolong London's downturn by compelling bankers to do business somewhere else. Recall, that London's primary business is financial services. (Could you imagine Hollywood taxing all actors an extra 50%) Is the deliberate hamstringing of your long term prospects worth a brief spike in revenue collection? For the werewolf, it boils down to the alignment of long-term versus short-term incentives. The self destructive desire to score short term points by destroying long term prospects, leaves him completely flummoxed. London is slaughtering the cow for a sirloin tonight, but is forgetting it will lose the cow's precious milk flow, and it'll be thirsty for a long time to come.

He feels that for too long, most decisions have been predicated on short-term considerations, including those decisions that laid the foundation for the current financial predicament. When leadership jobs vanish, they are hard, if not impossible to recreate. If there is a further exodus of London's bankers to New York, Hong Kong, Zurich, or wherever, a decent amount of capital will have been committed to locating personnel in those new locales, thus increasing costs for a potential return to London. A bad cycle will have been initiated. Wouldn't this be the time to make London as attractive as ever, to retain it's position as a pack leader in financial services? Because whoever makes it to the top of the mountain tomorrow, will fight to retain their perch.

Three cheers to Mayor Johnson for looking at the long-term and thinking about London's tomorrow, rather than trying to fight yesterday's class war. Here's to hoping that long-term thinking returns to the decision making process sometime soon. The werewolf doesn't want to be in exile forever.

The Dawn of the New Stupid: 'Cop Out' Trailer - Bruce Willis - Tracy Morgan

The werewolf loses faith in humanity on a weekly basis. The latest occurrence stemmed from this trailer. The fact that the first thirty-five seconds of the trailer for Cop Out are spent praising classic cop flicks like Dirty Harry, Training Day, and The Departed (which have nothing to do with Cop Out) as shared studio releases is indicative of how awful this film is going to be. They are resting on the laurels that your positive recall of these solid flicks will drown out the mind numbing impact of the vacant pulp you're about to be subjected to. Weak ploy. Beyond the fact that they can find no living person to say anything nice about this product nice speaks volumes, and it shows the studio's desperation. Yikes.

However, as the completely vacant trailer progressed, the werewolf wondered if he was watching the actual implosion of Bruce Willis's career -how tragic- and was snapped out of the internal eulogizing by the chorus of laughter erupting from the audience at anything Traci Morgan did on screen. Beyond small doses of 30 Rock, Traci Morgan is the new millennium's reincarnation of Pauly Shore. The werewolf began to wonder, has he lost all sense of what's funny, or are we entering the dawn of the new stupid? It's a no brainer. Not even an aggressive dose of nitrous oxide could get the werewolf to laugh during this spasm of film making. Judge for yourself. But take it from the werewolf, it ain't pretty.

Harry Reid stuck in the Weeds. The "no negro dialect" debacle.

Thank goodness Harry Reid isn't a Republican, or this would be the first racist super-scandal of the new decade. Here's the money quote from the Associated Press article link:

"Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid of Nevada described in private then-Sen. Barack Obama as "light skinned" and "with no Negro dialect, unless he wanted to have one." Obama is the nation's first African-American president."

Could you imagine the Democratic-liberal lynch mob that would be forming and fermenting if some Republican said this? Racial extortion artists like Jesse Jackon and Al Sharpton would take to the street and rile up the mob, the NAACP would be filing formal protests and organizing a boycott, the cable news networks would be broadcasting this modern day linguistic racial atrocity ad nauseum, and the outrage and sense of collective black pain would be jammed down our throats like those awful medicines from our childhood. However, by virtue of labeling himself a Democrat, Reid's party affiliation has completely insulated him from such baseless claims, hollow grievances, and empty rhetoric. Sure there is some limited reported going at the moment, but let's face it, jobless claims are on the rise, it's too cold to report on global warming, and Obama is still blaming President Bush for everything bad that has ever occurred. It's a slow news week with liberals in control of everything, hence, this story is getting some air time. The werewolf can't help but be amused, by the rather repugnant double standards at play, both by the media, and the liberal establishment. We live in strange times.

First of all, Harry Reid is the epitome of a loser. The guy just sucks. He's inarticulate, boring, lacks any sense of style, is frequently confused, and weirdly a slave to the hard-left of the Democratic party. Despite being Senate majority leader, he's getting clobbered in every poll in his home state of Nevada, and will likely be a political relic this time next year. We can only hope.

That being said, the werewolf really doesn't get where the controversy is stemmed. Harry Reid doesn't like ghetto black people. Neither does President Obama's second-in-command, Vice President Joe "the Mouth" Biden. I mean, in Biden's eyes, and from his mouth, Obama is "the first mainstream African-American who is articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy." Biden may have been on to something, since Obama was elected, however that's well above the werewolf's current pay-grade. The werewolf sees a trend that senior senators from the liberal wing of the Democratic party don't like black people who radiate urban ghettoness. Fair enough. It's all about good public relations and image, before content and substance.

The second part of this story pertains to the use of the word "negro." The United States, like every other western nation, has a spotted history when it comes to race relations. This is well-documented. As political correctness has invaded the vernacular in an attempt to stymie free-thought, creativity, and simple facts, a bizarre stream of evolving labels have been created to help people understand their racial lineage. During the dark days of real racism, segregation, and political oppression of black in America, the term "negro" was considered the enlightened term to describe black Americans. The term populates the writings of Booker T. Washington, Martin Luther King, Jr, and other civil rights heroes. Just think of the famous philanthropic organization The United Negro College Fund. Over the last three decades, the term for American blacks has evolved from colored, negro, black, Afro-American(hairstyles were big in the 70's), to African-American, to who knows what. It's an oppressive linguistic paradigm. The term negro is certainly anachronistic, outdated, and even tired, but using it in the modern vernacular is a far cry from racism. If you want to hear a litany of racist words, listen to some gansta rap! As much as Reid is a loser, he is also a 71 year-old man who was brought up in a time when a self-described forward thinker such as himself would be considered enlightened for describing his black countrymen as Negros. While the werewolf loves watching liberals trip over themselves with the bizarre and oppressive linguistic codes they want to impose on all of us, and he delights in seeing Harry Reid look like an anachronistic fool, it's a cosmic joke and intellectually dishonest to think Harry Reid racist for using the term negro.

The light skinned portion of the comment has it's own asinine insinuations, but that relates to the shallow pursuit of image construction and preference. Reid was caught red handed stating what most elite white liberals would like black America to become. Enjoy the amusement of how he handles it all.

There is racism embedded in liberalism. It is sourced in the notion that people who aren't white are somehow not responsible for their own actions and are incapable of helping themselves. The werewolf can think of few things as truly degrading and hateful as denying a group of people ownership and agency of their own fates. To salt that wound, liberalism hinges on "enlightened white liberals" acting as shepherds for these blighted groups. However, that's another debate for another time.

Addition: The werewolf missed a few key points in the above musings. The comparison of what occurred to Trent Lott in 2002 and the issue of whether these remarks qualify for demanding Reid's resignation.

The werewolf never really liked Trent Lott. He considered him a marginal senate majority leader, and a pork barrel professional (most legislators are), but then again, the werewolf had no reason to strongly dislike Lott. He was just another unremarkable Republican senator from the South. While Lott's remarks clearly exposed him to a barrage of criticism, could be considered ill-advised, and the pressure they generated caused him to vacate his leadership position. Tough knock of politics.

The werewolf thinks that Reid's leadership has contributed to the internal weakening of the Democrat party. From a strategic point-of-view, he would love to continue to watch Reid flounder, because it damages an agenda he opposes. Also, Reid's re-election is unlikely based on these polls, therefor his time is already limited and Reid has been rendered semi-impotent as it currently stands. However, a resignation of the Democrat senate majority has a karmic-like justice to it. As they say, what goes around, comes around.

Update: Ann Coulter calls Al Sharpton out.

Hollywood plans to murder another part of my childhood. "A-Team Intro"

Let's be perfectly honest with ourselves. With a few modern exceptions, the 1980's was the height of syndicated television. The American viewing public was blessed with television shows like MacGuyver, Airwolf, The Equalizer, Murder She Wrote, Miami Vice, Magnum P.I., and the Dukes of Hazard. It was also supported by early morning cartoons like Transformers, Thundercats, and G.I. Joe. It was the perfect time to grow up in these United States.

The A-Team, in particular, is a strong testament to television of yore. Every time he watches the original intro to the A-Team, the werewolf's blackened heart lifts slightly with a few beats of joy. During the late 1980's and early 1990's, the good folks at channel 5 in Los Angeles had syndicated reruns of the the A-Team at 3pm, right when a young werewolf got home from his episcopal elementary school. After bolting to the kitchen to get a Capri-sun or Fruit Roll Up treat, the werewolf would plant himself in front of the television and watch the A-Team. It was the perfect reward for surviving another day of elementary school. Even as a young boy, the werewolf noticed that every episode of the A-Team had the exact same plot. The team has a close encounter with the military police, whom they evade, they then either go to a rough part of downtown L.A., or some boring suburb to find out that some honest small-time family oriented entrepreneur, or community do-gooder is being harassed and shaken down by some nefarious criminal element. After sizing up the bad guys, the team goes to a junk yard, and builds some sort of super arsenal from a discarded Chevy Caprice hulk, a gas pump, some spare parts, and and proceeds to have a battle where they spectacularly route the bad guys in question. Epic in its consistency. Added bonuses included the A-Team's ring leader, Hannibal Smith, incorporating at least three cool disguises, smoking a cigar, and exclaiming "I love it when a plan comes together!", followed by the business development guy, Templeton "Faceman" Peck, always getting the girl. The team's pilot and resident maladjusted weirdo, "Howling Mad" Murdoch, would talk to himself, dress in drag, and creep the hell out of the the team's muscle, mechanic, and token black guy, "B.A" Baracus, (played perfectly by MR. T), whom would frequently tell Murdoch to "Shut up, Foo!" and bust through a wall. It was the perfect formula to guide an eight year old through his weekly afternoon siesta. Being a native of Los Angeles, the werewolf loves the retro shot of the 1980's L.A. skyline in the opening credits, and still finds the 67lbs of gold jewelry that B.A. Baracus allegedly wore through the jungles of Vietnam to be a great source of comic relief.

However, much to the eternal horror of the werewolf, he recently learned that in a fit of uncreative idiocy and desperation, the bozos in Hollywood will be releasing an A-Team movie this summer. Check it here. It's one thing to revive classic movie franchises like Star Trek and James Bond, both which Hollywood has done with some success lately. However, poaching hyper-formulaic syndicated television shows for the big screen is a sign of massive decline. First of all, by it's very nature, there really isn't enough content for more than about 37 minutes of A-Team execution time. That's what made it so beautiful. It was a one-hour date with little boy escapism. Secondly, certain personas just can't be replicated. Taking some mean looking burly black guy, giving him a mohawk, 67lbs of gold jewelry, and some bad attitude doesn't make him Mr. T. Mr. T is the god-father of bling himself, which the rappers shamelessly co-opted, plus he is an established icon, he is the D-rated minority version of John Wayne. Still, he is a class unto himself. Beyond that, as much as the werewolf loves Liam Neeson, he is no George Peppard. George Peppard is a one-of-a-kind B-rated debonair gentleman , whose sunset acting career cruise as Hannibal Smith is a legacy best left untouched. Like most shows of the 1980's, the A-Team was a product of carefree justice meets nifty urban action in an era where political correctness was still dormant on daytime television. It was okay to be a roguish "soldier of fortune" with a case of AK-47's in your trunk looking for a fight. That just doesn't fly in this day and age. Sadly.

The werewolf's final point is looking at what happened to G.I. Joe. His favorite cartoon as a little boy, G.I. Joe, was transmogrified from the ultimate patriotic childhood 1980's cartoon to quite possibly the worst film ever made. It went from being a neat collection of American and international bad-asses, fighting terrorism, each with their own distinct skills and hyper-individuality, to the unwatchable cinematic abortion of globalist vapidity and boring special effects conformity. It was clearly written by a lobotomized orangutan looking for a rotten banana. Watching G.I. Joe's cinematic interpretation last summer was akin to watching my childhood home get napalmed. A part of me died in the cinematic blaze. I fear Hollywood doesn't know when to quit, especially when it is far behind, and will proceed with Hannibal Lector like efficiency to dispatch everything I hold dear from my childhood, one item at time. Nothing is sacred in this day and age.

An Anthem from Exile: AC/DC - It's a Long Way To The Top (If You Wanna Rock 'N' Roll)

On its very best days, exile is a dark and dreary place. Yet, the werewolf marches on. Oddly, a sound track for exile is beginning to take shape. Given his classic rock roots, the werewolf looks to AC/DC when in doubt. This song, which was one of the first put AC/DC on the map back in mid-1970's, has a shamelessly simple headbanging beat, coupled with the cliched, yet timeless message of perseverance. In essence, AC/DC released it well before the shine of their stardom was at its brightest. It's cool in that cheesy and "who gives a crap" kinda way. (Cut the werewolf some slack, inspiration is a rare commodity these days.)

Taking a step back, it's the only classic rock song that comes to mind which seamlessly harmonizes bagpipes into its rock 'n' roll rhythm (Please correct me, if I am mistaken). Given that bagpipes usually are not the most pleasant of sounding instruments, it's an impressive feat.

Lastly, it hearkens back to the Bon Scott era of AC/DC. Bon Scott, AC/DC's first lead singer, was one of the models for the archetype of the uber-hedonistic and hyper-partying hard rockers. The guy could allegedly rival both Keith Richards and Rick James for the crazy excesses associated with sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll. His irreverent fun loving rockster is in full form when he sticks his tongue out at the camera early in the video. He is the inspiration for the absent band member from the mockumentary, This is Spinal Tap, who "choked to death on his own vomit." While hilarious in the context of the film, sadly, that is actually how Bon Scott departed this fair world after a wild night in London before the werewolf was even born. Despite this song being one of their first chart toppers, AC/DC hardly ever plays it anymore. Probably out of respect to Bon Scott and his legacy. Bon Scott has come up more than once during weeknight trivia games at several waterholes the werewolf used to frequent. Remember that.

Anyhow, the werewolf will persevere. He knows "It's a long way to the top, if you want want to rock 'n' roll!" He may be ascending via the detour, but he's got his proverbial six string in hand and he's ready to rock. Here's to what tomorrow may bring!

Saab-story Saga Continues...

The reporters at the Daily Telegraph, have an interesting story about the latest potential development of GM's neglected Swedish brand, Saab. Despite proclamations of Saab's pending doom, and the inability to find a proper suitor to acquire the brand, it looks like there is a slight chance of salvation via F1 racing guru and bizarre billionaire eccentric, Bernie Ecclestone, and a Luxembourg based private equity concern. As a taxpayer with a forced equity interest in GM, the werewolf hopes our government is able to salvage some sort of value from this neglected GM division, as GM is already getting hosed with write-offs by shuttering Saturn and Pontiac, not to mention the disgrace status of its brand equity. (That's a whole other can-of-worms, the long term viability of the GM's brand and business)

This leads the werewolf to wonder, given the doom and gloom shrouding the Saab brand, along with GM and Washington's complete incompetence managing the enterprise, how does a prospective buyer attach an optimal value to Saab? The clock is ticking before Saab goes bye-bye. As the werewolf types, it's being unwound and dismembered by financial advisors and management consultants. Therefore, the werewolf would think that the value erodes with each passing day. As a perspective buyer, would I get a better deal buying Saab's assets post-liquidation, for pennies on the dollar, including the naming rights, and starting the whole endeavor over from scratch, as opposed to acquiring all of the liabilities and baggage currently associated with the brand? There are dozen of financial and strategic concerns at play, both for GM and any potential suitor, yet, the perception that nails are be driven into the coffin, I would think strengthen any potential buyer to drive down the price, extremely weakening GM's hand, and giving suitors all of the leverage. The only play for GM is to try and get suitors into a bidding war with each, however, that seems highly unlikely at this point.

The fate of Saab was likely sealed years ago when GM shamelessly assimilated it into the heinously conformist and bland Detroit collective. However, there may be some interesting lessons on corporate valuation and both seller and purchaser behavior during Saab's death throws. The werewolf will be watching.

Addition: The werewolf would like to clarify some details around valuing an enterprise as it relates to this post. Traditional metrics include, comparables (the whole auto industry is getting squeezed at the moment, and Saab was a niche player, so that's not really helpful), projected earnings or discounted cash flow (normally several models could estimate these, but when you announce your exiting existence, this goes to zero), assets (Saab has these still, but the inventory isn't moving, and who wants a bunch of pampered unionized Nordic workers?), Market value (GM is such a charlie foxtrot, that this method is murky and imprecise), plus there are the softer value points like technology, pipeline, etc. These can probably be factored and are likely the basis for the pending pricing, but again, as a potential suitor, the werewolf would think all the cards are in your hands. This goes to a secondary take-away from the werewolf's business school Corporate Valuation class (also known as Corpse Val), the bankers and advisory folks love to push corporate valuation as a science, but when you drill down to realities, such as the one Saab and GM are facing, corporation valuation begins to look less like a science and more like an art.

Feliz Cumpleanos: Elvis turns 75. Enjoy some "BURNING LOVE"

Hail to King! The werewolf didn't start to really appreciate Elvis until a few years ago. While Elvis's career progression is hard to watch in hindsight, here's to remembering the very best of the man, myth, and legend. For all of his faults, Elvis was an unabashed American rock icon, who's music and legacy withstand the test of time.

Update: From the guys at Powerline, when Elvis met Nixon. Awesome.

Getting Sloppy: Falling back into Bad Habits.

The Wall Street Journal has an excellent op-ed by former CIA analyst Reuel Marc Gerecht addressing Al Qaeda's successful use of a double agent to execute a devastating suicide bombing at a forward operating base in Afghanistan base last week. The article, a must read, highlights several strategic and tactical errors made by the CIA. While not shy to criticize, the werewolf gets the sense that the CIA has become everyone's favorite punching bag(mostly warranted, but not always), and he'll save his direct critical thoughts for another time. However, in terms of structural failures this paragraph was rather shocking:

"Indeed, al Qaeda did to us exactly what we intended to do to them: use a mole for a lethal strike against high-value targets. In the case of al-Balawi, it appears the target was Ayman al Zawahiri, Osama bin Ladin's top deputy. During the Cold War, the CIA completely dropped its guard in the pursuit of much-desired Cuban and East German agents. The result? Most of our assets were plants given to us by Cuban and East German intelligence. With al-Balawi supposedly providing "good" information about al Zawahiri and al Qaeda's terrorist planning, a salivating CIA and the GID proved inattentive to counterintelligence concerns."

As a devoted student of the Cold War, the werewolf is keenly aware of some of the intelligence legacies from that storied era. One of the starkest lessons, was the Soviet Union's ability to manage human intelligence assets better than the West. While the West usually enjoyed a degree of technical superiority, and despite the moral abyss that communism embodied, there was an allure that made prominent double agents working for Moscow a theme of that conflict. One only need recall the infamous Cambridge Five, Kim Philby in particular, the Rosenbergs, Aldrich Aimes, and the post-conflict mercenary actions of Robert Hanson. These are the most infamous examples, however, they only reflect a skimming of the surface, especially in light of the manipulation via low level double agent's that the Warsaw Pact deliberately deployed to flood the West. The problem has manifested itself differently in the modern conflict, as one only need examine the internal Jihad executed at Ft. Hood last November.

While he detests communism on all levels, and celebrates its collapse, the werewolf recognizes the false Utopian allure that could appeal the to the fragile minds of intellectuals, or those seeking shelter in collectivism through their own profound individual insecurities. While this lesson is indirectly linked to the current conflict, because it is just unfeasible for a non-Muslim senior intelligence official to spontaneously convert, he feels that the detachment from Islam in the higher ranks, makes identifying double agents nearly impossible, as highlighted by the article and recent events. What is both alarming and impressive is the cleverness of Al Qaeda, to exploit this highlighted historical weakness of Western intelligence to their own advantage. Just when we think we've got the upper hand our enemies show a resilience and adaptability that is frightening.

This raises several concerns for the long term prospects of how this conflict is waged. The werewolf is certainly no expert in the field. But if we want to win(as the werewolf badly does). playing tunes from the historical playbook and fighting yesterday's wars is not the right path. The werewolf wonders, for all of their bravery, dedication, and impressive service to our country, if the intelligence services as currently constructed, suffer from inherent structural biases and political handicaps that make prosecuting this war to a successful conclusion more difficult than it needs to be. He doesn't have any answers, but thinks now, more than ever, changing the beat and tempo, could be decisive.

Rotten Apple sues Nashville Landmark. Her songs still suck.

According to The Tennessean, Fiona Apple, a musician most people have long forgotten ever existed, is suing Lonnie's Western Room, in what is likely a vain attempt to either reignite her long dead career, or get some money for last month's rent. Fuck you, Fiona!

The article seems to imply that Lonnie's will emerge from this just fine. Let's hope so. As suggested in other posts, Lonnie's was an integral part of the werewolf's business school experience in Nashville. A Friday night bouncing around Nashville's amazing honky tonks wasn't complete until you stumbled into Lonnie's for both a night cap and to belt out some songs. It's where the werewolf's ill-fated karaoke career both began and ended. Lonnie's is a truly a gem in multiple ways, and frankly, one of the werewolf's eternal favorite destinations. Lonnie himself is both a decent guy, and rather impressive entrepreneur. The werewolf crossed paths with him on several occasions while frequenting his establishment and was impressed to learn that Lonnie allegedly won his legendary karaoke bar in a poker game once upon a time.

It's funny, just today, the werewolf received a New Year's well wishes card from a dear business school friend, featuring a rather hilarious photo of that dear friend on the stage at Lonnie's. Anyhow, the werewolf wishes Lonnie all the best, and hopes that the rotten Apple contracts an awful STD and fades into oblivion. Where she belongs.

Helluva Performance: Genesis - Invisible Touch (Invisible Touch Tour)

The beauty of music is that while our tastes are always evolving and growing, certain elements and preferences endure. The werewolf has loved Genesis since he was about ten years old. "Land of Confusion" was the song that pulled him into the orbit of Peter Gabriel and Phil Collins collaborative rock genius many moons ago. In fact, the werewolf's bucket list includes trying to catch Genesis live before they all die-off. The werewolf pities those who've lived through multiple exposures to his karaoke rendition of "I Can't Dance" at Lonnie's in Nashville. At least the werewolf loves his inner buffoon.

While being in exile has elements of hell embedded in it, the werewolf does have the luxury of embracing some nostalgia from his youth every now and then. This includes finding clips of concerts he'd wish he'd attended as a little boy. This performance of "Invisible Touch" reinforces how awesome Genesis is in his mind. That being said, the mullet sported by Phil Collins is somewhat unreal, especially when juxtaposed with his current Lex Luthor look.

Here's to the enduring love of Rock n' Roll!

Amazon rises! Drowning the academic book racket.

Via Istapundit. Although several years too late for his own salvation, the werewolf's black heart get's a little lift when he reads about Amazon's frontal assault on the quasi-monopoly that university bookstores maintain on pricing for academic texts. During his undergraduate years at Emory, the werewolf would frequently enroll in reading heavy political science and history courses. He was also a fool, and frequently bought all of the books required for these courses. It wasn't until graduate school that he wised up a tad. He recalls certain bizarre texts of marginal content costing north of $100, only to have a salvage value of three dollars five months later when the course had ended. Yet, the pricing would promptly return to the triple digits for the marginal text at the start of the next semester. Talk about getting sodomized without the courtesy of some spit.

Being the sole distributor of these texts, the campus bookstore operations enjoyed the perverted pricing metrics because they weren't truly subjected to the efficiencies a market compels. Having options, and slightly more reasonable pricing metrics entered into the fray, should empower students everywhere. This unto itself is a small victory worthy of a smile.

Word of caution, just because texts are getting subjected to market pricing metrics doesn't mean that universities, in collusion with their bookstore partners, have found a new method to sodomize their students. Beware of "course packets." These vicious, and extremely expensive little buggers are a collection of relative articles, cases, and material drawn from a variety of sources and neatly bound into an expensive little packet. They change slightly with each academic year, so it is hard to re-use and create a secondary market for them. It is also a way to compel you to keep purchasing over-priced additions to advance your education and keep the bookstores in business. The upside is that these little buggers are very focused and deliberate in how they tie into the material of the course. Plus, they don't take up the same of amount of shelf-space or weigh as much. Here's a quick hat tip to the werewolf's alma mater, the Owen Graduate School of Management, for making nearly every required text available on reserve to its students in the library, and only compelling us to buy the dreaded course packets. It's the little things that make life bearable.

Where's that Change??? Jack Cafferty Rips Obama on Failed Openness Pledge: 'Just Another Lie Told for Political Expediency'

Courtesy of The Anchoress, this link showcases a rather astonishing rant from CNN's Jack Cafferty. It's a rare glimpse of honesty and forthrightness from the dying main stream media. The werewolf doesn't watch too much CNN, but Cafferty has always struck him as a weird hybrid of a poor man's Bill O'Reilly, crossed with the angry shabbily dressed deputy dean of nothing from junior high. Still, the candor and anger reflected in the tone, shows that liberals are beginning to understand that Obama is not a harbinger of "hope" and "change," but rather just another charlatan politician, who happens to be even more dishonest than his political kith and kin.

However, the lack of coverage about the outright lies and deception being pimped by the Democrats on the American people is shocking, because it is so apparent and easily traceable to claims they made ad nauseam. The werewolf vividly recalls the wicked witch of the West, Nancy Pelosi, bragging about a new era of transparency, inclusion, and ethics in government when the democrats retook the house and senate in 2006. Beyond the empty and vapid rhetoric of "hope" and "change" made by Obama during the 2008 campaign, the president explicitly promised that all health care discussions would be conducted in the full view of the American people via C SPAN.

Given that this health care legislation will be more expensive than the Iraq and Afghanistan engagements many times over, impact the entire population of the United States, and transform about 1/6 of the American economy, this is one the largest political scandals in the recent memory. Has "accountability" become a bad-word when progressives are in office? True outrage is permeating to the surface in certain corners, but where are all the so-called "watchdogs" and "advocates?" The silence of both most media outlets and activists on this issue is deafening. The werewolf thinks the Republic is on the cusp of some sort of Orwellian nightmare, when simple pledges get erased and blatantly ignored to cover-up legislation that rivals Johnson's "Great Society" fiasco of the 1960's.

This isn't a partisan shot. This is stating the obvious and asking that promises that were made to direct stakeholders in this society at least get consideration and air-time. So much for "hope" and "change."

Will the next Bond flick be on a "Road to Perdition," or captive to an "American Beauty?"

Sam Mendes to direct next Bond pic.

A friend recently sent me the this from The Hollywood Report on the latest development involving the 23rd Bond installment. Although, not an uber-devout Sam Mendes fan, the werewolf thinks this bodes well for next Bond film.While American Beauty was somewhat dark, twisted, and enjoyable, it was also incredibly overrated. It's indictment of middle class suburban conformity was drowned out by the psycho kid in a beanie constantly filming plastic bags blowing in the wind. The Road to Perdition, which incidentally features Daniel Craig as a villain, has an incredibly magnetic narrative, and qualifies as a damn decent film on all levels. This leads us to the fate of Bond 23. The werewolf thinks that as long as it is better than Quantum of Solace, (which shouldn't pose a challenge for a director like Mendes) everything will be alright.

The werewolf has been a disciple of all things Bond since about the age of three. Especially Connery's presence as Bond. The werewolf's sense of style, automotive preferences, and other social assumptions are highly predicated on the first several Bond installments, along with most of Fleming's Bond novels and novellas. He'll leave his scathing criticism of the ridiculous Pierce Brosnan Bond years for another post, but he does want to direct some legitimate ire at Quantum of Solace's confused and messy translation onto the big screen. Following 2006's Casino Royale, and its smashing reinvigoration of the then rudderless Bond franchise, the werewolf thought that Hollywood had finally gotten something right. That assumption was promptly blown apart by Quantum of Solace.

The werewolf's primary concern is the blurring of the James Bond and Jason Bourne franchises. Granted, Quantum of Solace is the only theatrical release highlighting this claim. Quantum of Solace over-emphasized a series of confusing, crack fueled action sequences throughout several portions of the film without ever really unfolding a plot or sense of direction. It was one part revenge, one part poorly executed nostalgia, and one part high velocity Jason Bourne action, with very little of the gritty essence that made Casino Royale such a thrilling and worthy film.

Don't get the werewolf wrong, the Bourne films, despite their distinctive anti-American positioning, and the continual and unoriginal "the CIA is at the root of all evil plot lines," are fun. Although the third Bourne installment, The Bourne Ultimatum, possessed such violent and shaky camera work that the werewolf nearly slipped into an epileptic fit during some of the chase sequences. It is crucial for Hollywood to remember that Bond is not Bourne, despite both being super spy assassins.

Bourne is a man without an identity, perpetually in search of who he is/was. No past, uncertain future, and profound insecurities about his gift for killing. There is no specific mission portfolio, he was indelibly damaged by all sorts of strange psychological programing, and although an uber-badass, his story is that of lost soul looking for home. He is in many ways a rejection of most things American and all things super-spy, while being well packaged into a trio of decent action flicks.

Bond is the exact opposite. Beyond the simple fact that he is an Englishman. He is man who knows exactly who/what he is and is extremely comfortable in that role. He is Her Majesty's foremost double-0 assassin and he is damn good at it. Everything he does, he does for England. Whereas Bourne is constantly searching for who he is, Bond is constantly trying to improve and hone his skill sets. To apply a business school term from my operations class, Bond is the human embodiment of kaizen. Bond isn't without his pitfalls, we learn that once in a blue moon, he gets a little soft and actually likes one of the women he beds, but always corrects course quickly, and reemerges a stronger, better killing machine. Bond also has a defined background. He is an accomplished naval officer, orphan, card player, vice aficionado, womanizer, well heeled and groomed gentlemen, with a roguish suaveness, and classically inclined killing streak. He is the uber-patriot who will accept any mission for his country, and do whatever it takes to complete that mission. As we've seen, he even has a flair for bending the rules, when needed to execute the task at hand.

Beyond sultry and devilishness temptresses, British sports cars, tailored Savile Row suits, his Walther PPK, sharp wit, and killer instinct, Bond should avoid any DNA transfusions from Bourne. He needs to carve out his own niche, while maintaining a connection to his established legacy. Bond's direction can evolve with the times, as it should. The Cold War has ended. New global threats from Islamic jihadists, global drug cartels, and rogue states partly define the new security paradigm, and Bond can rise up to those challenges on his terms. I just hope that Mendes, and the writers for this installment, push Bond down a road toward perdition, more than having him contemplate and reenact a Jason Bourne cameo in American Beauty.

Hey Baby, It's Cold Outside.

Brace yourselves boys and girls. It's going to get very cold. In fact, our Anglo-cousins are suffering from an unprecedented snowfall and cold weather snap. Even the Orient is getting chilled to the bone.

I'd imagine some of our frostbitten friends would welcome a little global warming at the moment. Frankly, I'd rather perish with a nice tan, riding some super-wave induced by a melted glacier, than having lost all of my extremities to frostbite. But that's just the werewolf in me.

Three decades ago, leading scientists fretted about the Earth's pending doom from global cooling. As temperatures rose, the last decade saw the reverse fears of gloom and doom sourced from global warming. Damn you nature! Why won't you cooperate with Al Gore? Ironically, both of these apocalyptic trends were attributed to the industry and growth of mankind. Heaven forbid there be a force on this earth that acts independent of man. We always have to be at the center of attention, don't we?

The new lingo is "climate change." Broad enough to be applied to the last two concepts without having to explain which one it is, while simultaneously making "change" a bad thing. Weren't we all about, "change" in 2008? The werewolf is confused, too.

Here's the lesson. Some winters are colder, some summers are warmer. Have a fur coat and bathing suit handy, but not everything that happens is the fault of man, nor can man do much to change the outcome, other than adapting. Hurricanes, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and epidemics all have happened before we industrialized and could apply our self-loathing on to a global-platform, and will continue to happen despite our carbon foot, or if we buy organic or not.

Let's worry about the things we can control and actually mean something in peoples lives. To start with let's pursue sound fiscal policies, macro-economic sanity, combating terror and those who harbor it, justice, tearing down trade barriers, respecting peoples freedoms, empowerment, and constructive applications of energy technologies. Imagined nightmares of a rebellious earth and frayed environment keep our eyes off the ball, when the solution is more simple. Diversify your wardrobe.

In the meantime, bust out the fur-coat. It's going to get cold.