Congressize Social Security!

There is currently much political ado about Social Security. It is called a Contract with Ameri...

A Ponzi Scheme. AIG for old people. A bankrupt burden on our please-be-generous-to-Grampie youth. A giant sucking sound. A Fannie Mae for mortgaging the House of O'bama Socialist Regime.

Basically, Social Security is an investment of the once-current payroll of potential retirees into O'bama's flimsy paper promises to pay out fat retirement income to anyone who can photocopy a social security card.

What do you expect? It was FDR's idea and FDR was no Ronald Reagan. Hell, FDR was no Rick Perry, madly consumed, as he was, with packing the Supreme Court way over its usual eight members. FDR held weekly fireside chats. With wood fires. And do you honestly think SUV's raised Greenland half an inch?

So, every politician this side of Sarah Palin has read that something must be done about Social Security. Whatever is done must be kept secret (this blog being a perfect example) or else FOX will need an army of Lars' Real Girls to handle the opposing views to Hannity 24/7/52.

The favorite solution of the Newts and the traders of Goldman Sachs is to privatize Social Security. George III pushed manfully hard for such an advance, but got himself bogged down in more important pursuits such as creating the Arab Spring and festering the Syrian Autumn.

Face the truth: Privatizing is a seductively simple concept. Just hand over your retirement savings to the bull artists on Wall Street. They will spin it into derivatives and Collateralized Retirement Security Securities and sell it to the Greeks and Icelanders. Again.

2008, you say? Economic Ash Cloud grounding your IRA's, you say?

Pessimists! Was not your glass 401K still half full?

Pumice aside.

Never mind. Who remembers that far back anyway? A brilliant new plan has emerged. Although this Blog cannot rightly claim full credit, it will anyway. "Pushing Daisies" was still of, for God's sake.

Flush that old GOP roasting chestnut. Give your retirement money to the we-can't-miss-crowd: Johnnie Boehner, Nancie Pelosi and Spencie Bacchus and their fellow revelers in Congress.

Super Committee Orgies?  Phooey.

This is the definitive retirement party.

Johnnie, Nancie and Spencie can do something with you money you can't do without sharing a fallen bar of soap with Bernie Madoff. Even Goldman Sachs can't do it without feeling remorse.

Congressional Insider Trading!

Or the new investment grammar: “I before E; when E is everybody else not in Congress.”

These keen-eyed Congressional investors can use any insider information that they themselves generate or even hear from Lobbyists over Christal and caviar to sell everyone, repeat, everyone, else short.

How? Well, you're a Congressperson, named, say, Johnnie or Nancie or Spencie, and your committee tells AT&T that it can, FCC be damned, buy that pink cell phone outfit that looks so nice on that very slim not-Catherine-Zeta-Jones. With that super secret information, you can buy sadly depressed AT&T stock and shares in anything not-so-hot pink, well before the Market opens or is fully occupied.

Oh. You're Shocked! Shocked! Your once limp stocks doubled in price by Noon and you--Johnnie, Nancie and/or Spencie--just made more money than Mitt can gamble away in a thousand debates.

Think of it. You—you're not Johnnie, Nancie or Spencie, anymore, and, like, really you're not--you can not execute the above strategy because you are not otherwise busy writing laws to exempt you and your fellow sharks from being harpooned for stock fraud. But glug not. Give your money to Johnnie, Nancie and/or Spencie to invest for you. And promise not to watch "60 Minutes" and absolutely guarantee you will keep your eyes off anything they do...

[Okay, okay. That was mean.]

Who needs Social Security's investment in 0.01% Gilt Edge Barak-o'bonds?

You won't be needing no measly Social Security Administration less Part B charges direct deposit. Not a one.

Hey, Paulson, Bernanke, throw a wet TARP over this one, baby!

State of the Union: What's Missing?

The State of the Union speech is a piece of dreck that the Constitution seems to inflict on the President of the United States, ready or not.  Maybe not every week, but from time to time.  I am quite sure that George Washington (George I, if you are counting) did not give the speech in Prime Time, preempting far more informative or entertaining stuff.  Maybe, it started with TV.  More's the pity.

My favorite current President, The Big O (TBO, to his ADHD followers) gave his first one tonight.  I'm sure he said things no one has dared say before, chanted "jobs, jobs, jobs" twice and sang "Tiny Real Estate Bubbles" in Hawaiian. Maybe I was in the kitchen opening a box of wine.

Republicans must surely have very sore asses right now, but their hands were occupied with their Canadian Blackberry's getting cures from K-Street.  The Democrats applauded more and stood up, too, but wished they were having dinner with a lobbyist and his pretty blond escort.

TBO, in the end, was right.  Americans are not convinced.  We are pulling together, as if under water, all fifty states, a few territories, probably Puerto Rico.  There's one big hole, though.  If you look on Google Earth, you'll see it, stuck between Virginia and Maryland.  Aside from the Potomac and a couple thousand limos, it is simply empty, a void.

Try and count the number of useful Representatives and Senators, Justices and Presidents. Wait, let me try.  With both hands in my Honduran-fabricated pants pockets and my toes securely in some Indonesian-made sneakers.

Wow, that was quick.  I'm done.  How about you?