People interested in the academic paper version of my law school critique can download it from SSRN.
Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson have been engaged for the lead roles in the film version.
What’s the most important job in America? I don’t know about you, but I’d say Protecting Our Freedoms is right up there. So it’s only natural that when the federal government hires somebody to run any aspect of our national security apparatus, it does the most thorough possible background check on the person. Excellent performance in one’s previous employment is the first thing they check on, right? (Just after they get the drug test back of course).
Ladies and gentleman, I give you your new Coordinator For Improved Cooperation Between National Security Agencies. Because if there’s one thing Graham Spanier knows how to do it’s to make sure that sensitive information doesn’t fall into the hands of the wrong people.
Update: A Nexis search reveals almost no mention of this story in the media. After the Sarah Ganim broke it the Harrisburg paper in April it was mentioned very briefly in the Pittsburgh Tribune and the National Journal. I guess it’s not news when somebody like Spanier lands a federal government job in the wake of what may well have been the most catastrophic presidency in the history of a major American university.
But wait there’s more: It turns out after he was fired Spanier had to get his top secret national security clearance renewed in order to be given whatever
make-work sinecure important administrative position some friends in high places decided he should get. This took four months. So he not only got a job — he got the kind of job that required a bunch of important people to sign off on him getting it.
Ah . . . life in the meritocracy.
Semi-serious question: If you assigned a student the task of writing an 800-word essay on the theme of what relevance America’s experience in Iraq has for United States foreign policy in the context of the current crisis in Syria, and the student produced this, what grade would you give it?
Graduate school, upper level undergraduate: F
“Mr. Friedman, this level of work simply isn’t acceptable.”
Freshman comp: D+
“Mr. Friedman, you have an arresting writing style, although we need to discuss the uses and abuses of metaphor. But logic is part of good expository writing as well, and this piece contradicts itself more than once in the space of less than 800 words. Please make an appointment during office hours so that we can discuss how you might improve your work.”
High school: C
“Tommy, in some ways this draft has potential. You’re certainly not afraid of big ideas and memorable phrases. I see real promise here. But arguments have to make sense on their own terms, and colorful writing can get in the way of clear thinking. Let’s talk about how you might re-write this to make it better.”
Maybe I’m an easy grader though.
Friday a federal judge ruled that because “the [employment and salary] statistics provided by Cooley and other law schools in a format required by the ABA were so vague and incomplete as to be meaningless,” those statistics “could not reasonably be relied upon.” Therefore anybody who did rely on those statistics could not claim to have been defrauded, since the statistics were too fraudulent to defraud reasonable people (If this argument makes sense to you, you have what is called a legal mind).
Over the last year and a half enough pressure has been brought to bear on the ABA’s Section of Legal Education that the lower-tier law school deans and faculty who control it have been forced to disgorge school-specific employment (but not salary) information. People who apply to Cooley and other law schools can go to an ABA web page and look up how many 2011 graduates of those schools supposedly got full-time long-term jobs requiring bar admission.
There they will learn that Cooley reported 375 of 999 2011 graduates got such jobs (that’s approximately 37.5% for us English majors). That sounds pretty awful, but even this dire number is probably significantly overstated. Leaving aside the fact that 21.3% of those “jobs” consist of the 80 2011 Cooley grads who listed themselves as solo practitioners, if we go to Cooley’s web page and dig around long enough to actually find the placement data page, we will find this footnote in small print underneath the first employment table (brought to my attention by a law professor who prefers to remain nameless):
NOTE: The ABA advised schools to determine and report every graduate’s full-time/long- or short-term and part-time/long- or short-term employment status, even if a graduate did not voluntarily supply complete information. Of those 2011 graduates reporting sufficient information for Cooley to make this determination, slightly more than 87 percent reported full-time/long-term employment. Based on this high percentage, the default classification for those lacking complete data was full-time/long-term unless Cooley had evidence to contradict that classification.
Note also that graduates working for legal temporary agencies were classified as full time/long term due to the nature of their employment contract with the temporary agency.
Did you get that? Cooley grads who didn’t indicate whether they were employed full-time, or long-term, were simply classified by the school as employed in full-time long-term jobs unless the school “had evidence to contradict that classification.” (I suspect they didn’t look too hard for such evidence).
This methodology produces some remarkable comparative results. For instance, according to Cooley’s calculations, 91.7% of its 2011 grads who had legal jobs were in full-time/long-term positions, which is a higher percentage than Cornell (85.5%), UCLA (72.5%), Notre Dame (72.8%), and indeed the vast majority of ABA law schools.
Of course it helps pump up a bottom-feeding law school’s “full-time/long-term” employment rate when it counts temporary document review positions as full-time long-term employment, which is precisely what Cooley has done. I can only imagine what jesuitical arguments were deployed by whoever decided that the “nature” of temp agency employment contracts required grads on doc review gigs the day their employment status was determined to be counted as employed in “long-term” positions (Most temp agency doc review positions last a few weeks. If you’re curious about the life, JD Underground has a whole section devoted to it).
So even now Cooley continues to pump its employment stats full of as much hot air as its administrators think they can get away with. What’s remarkable is that, even when presented in this gamed-up form, the stats required by the brand new reporting regimes reveal how flat-out crazy anyone would have to be to attend Cooley (with exceptions as always for the independently wealthy and people who just need a law license to step into a guaranteed job).
Those stats indicate that Cooley was able to determine that a total of 10.9% of the school’s 2011 grads were making a salary of $46,000 or more, at a school where the average level of law school debt at graduation (not total educational debt) is now over $115,000. Nearly 40% of the class was either completely unemployed or had an unknown employment status. That the employment status of 263 out of 999 2011 Cooley grads was unknown is perhaps the single most remarkable aspect of the school’s employment statistics. (The other four law schools in the state graduated 1,074 people in 2011. A total of nine of these graduates had an unknown employment status).
I guess Cooley figures that what the school doesn’t know can’t hurt it. Hopefully fewer and fewer law school applicants are employing the same logic.
Apparently PSU signed off on all this (I guess they were made an offer they couldn’t refuse).
The pseudo-lawyer in me says there’s something questionable about being subjected to the administrative equivalent of a firing squad without at least getting a hearing first.
In recent weeks we’ve made a couple of visits to our friends at Rutgers-Camden, where we found them struggling to fill even half their normal incoming class, offering to admit people who had never applied, and soliciting applications from people who had never considered going to law school.
Here’s a question an enterprising journalist somewhere in the vicinity of the Garden State might wish to pursue: Why do graduates of Rutgers-Camden’s law school purportedly have such extraordinarily low levels of law school debt?
How low? Well for its class of 2011 Rutgers-C reported a mean debt of $27,423. And this was no one-year anomaly: the school reported mean debt of $28K and $32K for its graduating classes of 2009 and 2010.
While Rutgers-Camden is a fairly inexpensive law school, it still charges more than $25K per year in resident tuition and $37K for non-residents. And while scenic Camden is not nearly as expensive as some East Coast enclaves, it’s not nearly as cheap as going to school in the middle of flyover country. Per LST, the non-discounted debt-financed cost of attending the school for the class of 2015 (assuming there is one) will be $151K for residents and $192K for non-residents.
Could it be that Rutgers-Camden gives out extraordinary amounts of scholarship aid? To the contrary, according to the ABA Rutgers-Camden only gave scholarship money to 28.3% of its students in 2011 (a much lower percentage than the average law school), and most of those grants were quite small: the median amount was only $5000.
Compare the school’s reported graduate debt load to that of neighboring Temple Law School. Temple has a significantly cheaper sticker price — less than $20K resident and $32K non-resident tuition — and much more generous scholarship numbers: 46.2% of 2011 students got scholarship money, with a median amount 50% higher than that of students at Rutgers-Camden. Yet Temple’s far lower cost structure produced an average law school debt for its 2011 graduating class of $80,871. (This is a typical average debt load for schools in this cost of attendance range. For example: Ohio State has in-state tuition of $26K and average graduate debt of $87K. Rutgers-Newark’s numbers are $25K and $83K.. Texas charges $30K for in-state tuition but only 13% of students there pay sticker. Average graduating debt: $84K).
In theory it’s possible that Rutgers-Camden is attended almost exclusively by children of wealthy families, who are generous enough to pay almost the entire cost of attendance. In practice that theory is preposterous on its face, especially given that Rutgers-Camden reports that 98% of its 2011 class graduated with law school debt (the national average for all law schools was 87%).
Update: Note the last paragraph in particular.
Update II: One striking aspect of all this is that Rutgers-Camden fails to mention on its website that the members of the school’s 2011 graduating class had 74% less debt than those of the average law school, and 67% less debt than those of its in-state public competitor, Rutgers-Newark. Indeed, if the numbers reported by Rutgers-Camden are correct, its graduates had less than half as much debt as the graduates of every other school in the top 100, with just two exceptions. You would think this is the sort of information the school would want prospective students to know.
Another striking aspect of the matter is that apparently no one on the Rutgers-Camden faculty has noticed these literally incredible figures — or if they have, they haven’t either corrected them or, if they’re actually correct, insisted that the school broadcast them to the world.
Update III: Mystery solved. Compare this and this with this. So for at least the last three years Rutgers Camden has reported one year’s worth of student debt to USNWR and apparently the ABA as well, when it was supposed to be reporting total debt at graduation. The school has under-reported graduate debt by a factor of three, whicch has led to a bunch of phony stories about what a “great value” it is — stories that the school hasn’t bothered to correct, despite being aware of this error for at least four months now, if not longer. It hasn’t even corrected its own press releases.
And the USNWR website — which is the only public source for school-specific debt information — still has the wrong numbers up. Awesome work Bob Morse & Co!
What a joke of a business.
As you’ve probably heard from your favorite right-wing think tank by now, nearly half of all Americans pay no federal income taxes. The usual reason is that these people don’t make much money. They are, as we like to say at LGM, “takers” rather than “producers.”
Leave it to Mitt Romney to be far-sighted enough to try, while contemplating a presidential run, to find out how the other half lives. What would it be like, Romney wondered, not to pay any federal income taxes? It seems as if Romney may have gone even further in his personal journey into the lower depths, and paid no federal taxes of any kind in 2009.
Now Romney may have not gone quite that far. Perhaps he paid 3% or 5% of his income in federal taxes. (It would be irresponsible not to speculate.)
In any case he should be praised for trying to live like common people live.
There is one instance in the Freeh Commission report where Graham Spanier, the disgraced former Penn State president, said enough is enough. One instance when he slammed down his authoritative fist to protect the welfare of his charges and the reputation of his institution.
It wasn’t against Jerry Sandusky, of course.Graham Spanier, left, allegedly hid Jerry Sandusky’s sex crimes while enforcing arcane rules.
It was December 1997 and Spanier was soon to learn that the longtime Penn State defensive coordinator had been accused of molesting a young boy while showering with him in the Penn State locker room, according to the Freeh report. But Spanier wouldn’t stand up to old Jer, because that wouldn’t be the “humane” way of handling it. Or so he wrote in an email.
No, Sandusky got to keep fondling right under Spanier’s nose for years to come.
That was a pardon not shared by star Penn State running back Curtis Enis and professional sports agent Jeff Nalley, who dared violate the document that directed Spanier’s moral compass, the NCAA rulebook.
Enis was immediately declared ineligible, and cited as a stain on Penn State’s so-called “grand experiment” of creating a healthy balance between academics and athletics. The agent, meanwhile, was reported to the NCAA and the local district attorney, banned from ever setting foot on Penn State’s campus (“persona non grata” Spanier declared), charged with a crime and publicly shamed by the president himself so everyone understood the evil and danger he represented.
“He fooled around with the integrity of the university,” Spanier said at the time, according to the Freeh report. “And I won’t stand for that.”
If fooling around with kids in the showers was something Graham Spanier could apparently stand for, then what was Enis and Nalley’s crime against humanity?
They bought a suit.
It was a nice suit, $325 retail at a Harrisburg clothier. There was a $75 shirt too. Enis was slated to appear on an ESPN awards show and didn’t have anything that nice to wear. The regular season was over and he was about to declare for the NFL. Nalley sprung for the outfit.
Spanier saw it differently. Since Penn State still had one game remaining, essentially an exhibition in the Citrus Bowl, he dropped the hammer. Victim No. 2 of Sandusky’s crimes apparently wouldn’t mean much to the Penn State president, but NCAA Bylaw 12.3 sure did. It’s the rule that prohibits players from receiving “benefits” from agents.
Even if the so-called benefit was appropriate attire for a made-for-television show to celebrate the multibillion-dollar industry Enis helped drive. According to the rule book, though, he couldn’t be provided a nice suit because, well, because people like Graham Spanier said so.
And continue to say so.
Read the whole thing
Also, a nice mea culpa from Rick Reilly:
I hope Penn State loses civil suits until the walls of the accounting office cave in. I hope that Spanier, Schultz and Curley go to prison for perjury. I hope the NCAA gives Penn State the death penalty it most richly deserves. The worst scandal in college football history deserves the worst penalty the NCAA can give. They gave it to SMU for winning without regard for morals. They should give it to Penn State for the same thing. The only difference is, at Penn State they didn’t pay for it with Corvettes. They paid for it with lives.
In January 2011, Joe Paterno learned prosecutors were investigating his longtime assistant coach Jerry Sandusky for sexually assaulting young boys. Soon, Mr. Paterno had testified before a grand jury, and the rough outlines of what would become a giant scandal had been published in a local newspaper.
That same month, Mr. Paterno, the football coach at Penn State, began negotiating with his superiors to amend his contract, with the timing something of a surprise because the contract was not set to expire until the end of 2012, according to university documents and people with knowledge of the discussions. By August, Mr. Paterno and the university’s president, both of whom were by then embroiled in the Sandusky investigation, had reached an agreement.
Mr. Paterno was to be paid $3 million at the end of the 2011 season if he agreed it would be his last. Interest-free loans totaling $350,000 that the university had made to Mr. Paterno over the years would be forgiven as part of the retirement package. He would also have the use of the university’s private plane and a luxury box at Beaver Stadium for him and his family to use over the next 25 years.
The university’s full board of trustees was kept in the dark about the arrangement until November, when Mr. Sandusky was arrested and the contract arrangements, along with so much else at Penn State, were upended. Mr. Paterno was fired, two of the university’s top officials were indicted in connection with the scandal, and the trustees, who held Mr. Paterno’s financial fate in their hands, came under verbal assault from the coach’s angry supporters.
Board members who raised questions about whether the university ought to go forward with the payments were quickly shut down, according to two people with direct knowledge of the negotiations.
In the end, the board of trustees — bombarded with hate mail and threatened with a defamation lawsuit by Mr. Paterno’s family — gave the family virtually everything it wanted, with a package worth roughly $5.5 million. Documents show that the board even tossed in some extras that the family demanded, like the use of specialized hydrotherapy massage equipment for Mr. Paterno’s wife at the university’s Lasch Building, where Mr. Sandusky had molested a number of his victims.
The details of Mr. Paterno and his family’s fight for money seem to deepen one of the lasting truths of the Sandusky scandal: the significant power that Mr. Paterno exerted on the state institution, its officials, its alumni and its purse strings.
Since Mr. Paterno’s death in January, Mr. Paterno’s family, lawyers and publicists have mounted an aggressive campaign to protect his legacy. The family and its lawyers have hammered the university’s board of trustees, accusing members of attempting to deflect blame onto a dying Mr. Paterno. This week, they angrily disputed the conclusions of an independent investigation that asserted Mr. Paterno and other top university officials protected a serial predator in order to “avoid the consequences of bad publicity” for the university, its football program and its coach’s reputation.
UPDATE [SL]: But he drove a Ford Tempo! What a welcome refreshment Saint Joe was from this venal world!
33 years ago Joe Paterno had the poor judgment to remark in front of a reporter at a social gathering that he couldn’t retire from college football, because doing so would leave the game in the hands of coaches like Jackie Sherrill and Barry Switzer. Paterno meant that Sherrill and Switzer were willing to break NCAA recruiting rules in order to win football games.
As long ago as 1979, Paterno was already a sanctimonious windbag, who appeared to believe the nonsense he peddled so successfully to the ever-credulous media about how Penn State football was, in his words, a “Grand Experiment” — an island of old-fashioned virtues in the sordid sea of big-time college football, where doing things the right way while building moral character and molding tomorrow’s leaders took precedence over the won-loss record.
And even as recently as this January, if you believe his family and his lawyers, Paterno took the time to compose an op-ed about the glories of the Grand Experiment. Remarkably enough this piece wasn’t made public until the week Penn State’s independent investigation into the football program’s child rape scandal was scheduled for release.
This nauseating text exhibits a combination of complete moral blindness with something like a perfectly tone-deaf approach to public relations. We now know that Paterno, along with other high university officials, spent at least thirteen years carefully covering up and enabling Jerry Sandusky’s ongoing serial rape of an untold number of young boys, and that he lied about his role in all this while testifying under oath to the grand jury that indicted Sandusky.
Having played an integral part in enabling an atrocious series of crimes, and on the verge of having the extent of his participation in the cover-up of those crimes exposed, Paterno still could not stop himself from continuing to hold up the Penn State football program as an example to which others should aspire.
One lesson to take from this disgusting and horrifying spectacle is a very old one, taught by among others the religion whose services Paterno is said to have attended regularly. It is that spiritual pride is a far more deadly and dangerous sin than the sort of ordinary greed and dishonesty that Paterno believed coaches such as Sherrill and Switzer exemplified.
A man who breaks some rules in order to win a few more football games is likely to understand himself to be nothing more exalted than a hustler on the make. By contrast, a man who talks himself into believing that he is running a uniquely virtuous Grand Experiment, rather than just another successful college football program that mostly avoids the most egregious forms of cheating, is far more likely to develop the delusion that he’s some sort of role model for his peers, or even a quasi-spiritual leader of our youth.
Paterno fell so completely into this frame of mind that it seems he found it impossible to face up to the consequences of revealing that the Grand Experiment had ended up shielding and indeed enabling a predatory pedophile. Unable to handle the truth, Paterno spent more than a decade engaging in behavior a hundred times worse than anything Sherrill or Switzer were ever accused of doing. The legendary coach used the power derived from the cult of personality he had allowed to grow up around him to shield Jerry Sandusky from the legal process, which in turn allowed Sandusky to continue raping young boys.
In the end Paterno was so detached from the reality of what he and his program had become that, even as the carefully constructed façade of the Grand Experiment was crumbling all around him, he continued to present himself as something like a secular saint amid the fallen world of college football. It turns out the saint was indistinguishable from a sociopath.
Is to successfully identify the source material. Is it:
(a) A passage from David Lodge’s new novel
(b) The result of a CIA black ops experiment that involved LSD, Martha Stewart, and an IPad.
(c) Something from the New York Times’ Lifestyle Section
(d) Pure evil from the 8th dimension
(e) Other (please specify)
ALEXANDRA SAGE MEHTA and Michael Robinson do not seem to belong to the Facebook generation that expresses itself in sentence fragments. In conversation, their sentences are grammatical and lovely and often sound as if previously written, if not rewritten. Both are writers and care deeply about words as well as opera, cooking, stick-shift cars, modern design and swimming in cold water.
Ms. Mehta, 27, who grew up on the Upper East Side, is working on a memoir and a novel, and is not easily typecast. She prefers writing in the darkest corner of the quietest library she can find, yet she’s also social and vivacious.
“Sage is alarmingly bright and disarmingly warm,” said Hilary Cooper, a friend.
She is slightly built, graceful and soft-spoken. Yet she has also been known, when cross-country skiing with friends who are falling behind, to shout, “Buck up!”
Mr. Robinson, 31, grew up in Bloomfield Hills, Mich., loving cars and French literature. He manages real estate investments for a family in New York and is writing a biography of Robert Cordier, a French filmmaker and theater director. He likes modern chairs and couches, partly because they are often uncomfortable and keep him from falling asleep while reading.
The two met in Paris in the summer of 2001. She was on a summer-abroad program for high school students; he was a counselor. For her, he was an anomaly: a boy she could talk to, for hours.
Most of her education had been in girls schools. “I just found boys terrifying and alien,” she said. Months later, she mailed him a long handwritten letter on her personal stationery. “I’d just hate to lose you, oh that was an awful blah line,” she wrote. And: “Now I’m 17, which seems so awfully old.”
He wasn’t sure whether it was a love letter or not. At any rate, he didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t.
Years passed. She graduated from Princeton, then lived in Mumbai, India, studying yoga and writing. He graduated from Yale, then got a master’s degree in modern and medieval languages at Cambridge University, then moved to Paris to write.
By November 2009, both were living in Manhattan. They ran into each other at a “huge party given by three very popular Princeton girls,” she said. He recalls thinking that Ms. Mehta had grown up to be astoundingly beautiful, tall and lithe in a bright orange dress. She remembers wondering why she didn’t feel more of a spark. Nevertheless, they made a plan to have dinner and catch up.
They met at Lucien, a French restaurant downtown. He arrived on a black Bianchi bicycle, and this time she felt sparks. They talked about writing, bicycles and their fathers. Her father is Ved Mehta, the prolific, blind Indian writer who lives in New York; his father, E. Steven Robinson, owns a commodities trading company in Michigan.
“It turns out he grew up helping his father, who had rheumatoid arthritis and walks with a cane,” Ms. Mehta said. “We both grew up with fathers who needed our help.”
At one point during dinner, she asked him if he enjoyed swimming in very cold water. Growing up, Ms. Mehta spent summers at her family’s house on an island off Maine and swam in the frigid sea every day. “I was really asking if he jumped into things,” she said. “It’s about bravery to me. Unconsciously, I was asking him if he’d jump into a relationship with me, whether he’d just go for something.”
Though she learned that he swam in Lake Michigan as a child and dives into cold water without a problem, he was not a person who leaped into relationships easily, especially serious ones. “I very much didn’t want to be in a committed relationship,” he said.
That changed by the end of dinner with Ms. Mehta. “I was really quite captivated by Sage,” he said.
A few days later, he e-mailed her and asked, “Do you want to have dinner Monday or Tuesday?” She wrote back, “Both!” Then, she worried he might think she was too enthusiastic or intense. “I always thought I’d be too much for someone, and with Michael, nothing I said or wrote was ever too much,” she said.
She soon bought her own bicycle, a black one with orange wheels (Princeton colors), and they began taking long rides around the city. “What really struck me about Sage was her ability to describe the world, not only her thoughts but our activities together,” he said. “I think that comes from describing things to her father. She allows me to see things differently and amplifies everything we do.”
Without exactly discussing it, they began living together. “It wasn’t a conscious decision to move in together or live together,” he said. “We wanted to be together so much that to not live together would be weird.”
She moved into his tiny studio on the Lower East Side, which at that time had three pieces of furniture: a large desk with a glass top, an uncomfortable modern chair and an uncomfortable bed. Yet she was perfectly comfortable there. “He has the most amazing, joyful way of going through life,” she said. “He sings and dances and laughs and runs the shower too long before he gets in.”
They even write together at the desk, which becomes the dinner table when they cook for friends, which is often. “They managed to live in this tiny room and create a marvelous social life together,” said Katrina Cary, an aunt of Ms. Mehta. “Sage would come back and say, ‘Oh, we just had this huge gang of friends over.’ ”
One of those friends, Eliza Gray, an assistant editor at The New Republic magazine, said: “You can always count on them to talk about something interesting, whether it’s yoga or an artist or something in history or a place or a song or even politics. They’re never dull. They’re both unique.”
Months after they moved in together, they went swimming in Maine. She sat on the dock deliberating and stalling, as is her way, while he dived right in.
He proposed in Paris last summer, 10 years after they met there. He did not kneel, but stood so that they could be on equal footing and he could look straight into her eyes. He said he wanted their marriage to be “a continuous, personal, intimate alliance between our inner voices.”
On the evening of May 19, they were married in New York at the Century Association, chosen because it is one of Mr. Mehta’s favorite places; he knows where every piece of furniture is and walks around there like a person with sight. It was a Jewish ceremony with Hindu and Episcopalian elements performed by Rabbi James Ponet, the Jewish chaplain at Yale.
“I have never been so sure about anything in my life as wanting to marry Michael,” the bride said in a short speech before the 215 guests. “It is rare in life to be sure. Most of my feelings are the opposite, little inklings that with proper care and attention grow into more definite emotions and desires.”
Ms. Mehta and Mr. Robinson have read and reread all the epic love stories in literature, yet their own view of love and marriage is pretty simple. “You have to keep making these choices to love and turn toward the person you love,” she said. “It’s a daily practice, a good habit.”
Via TPM and various publications linked therein, scenes from a Romney fundraiser:
While a group of Occupy Wall Street protesters assembled in the area, the Porsches, Range Rovers and BMWs streamed in. Here are some of the best quotes from the events.
A gem from the Los Angeles Times:
A New York City donor a few cars back, who also would not give her name, said Romney needed to do a better job connecting. “I don’t think the common person is getting it,” she said from the passenger seat of a Range Rover stamped with East Hampton beach permits. “Nobody understands why Obama is hurting them.
“We’ve got the message,” she added. “But my college kid, the baby sitters, the nails ladies — everybody who’s got the right to vote — they don’t understand what’s going on. I just think if you’re lower income — one, you’re not as educated, two, they don’t understand how it works, they don’t understand how the systems work, they don’t understand the impact.”
Peter Cohen, the former Shearson Lehman Bros. chief, told the Associated Press — while chewing on a cigar — that Romney is a “plain-talking guy.”
Ted Conklin, who owns the American Hotel in Sag Harbor, told the New York Times that Obama is a “socialist.”
“His idea is find a problem that doesn’t exist and get government to intervene,” Conklin added, his wife, Carol Simmons, nodding beside him in their gold Mercedes.
But wait, there’s more. From the Times:
Ms. Simmons paused to highlight what she said was her husband’s generous spirit: “Tell them who’s on your yacht this weekend! Tell him!”
Over Mr. Conklin’s objections, Ms. Simmons disclosed that a major executive from Miramax, the movie company, was on the 75-foot yacht, because, she said, there were no rooms left at the hotel.
George Orwell, Wartime Diaries, June 3, 1940:
From a letter from Lady Oxford to the Daily Telegraph, on the subject of war economies:
“Since most London houses are deserted there is little entertaining… in any case, most people have to part with their cooks and live in hotels.”
Apparently nothing will ever teach these people that the other 99% of the population exists.
Lady Oxford was Margot Asquith, widow of Herbert Henry Asquith, prime minister from 1908-1916.
Update: Things you learn from wikipedia: Helena Bonham Carter is Asquith’s great-granddaughter via his first wife.