“As for Maureen Dowd, well, this is the key to everything. Those who go through college and *still* think that Maureen Dowd is funny or witty or worth reading at all, they become the die-hard Times opinion page readers for life. You may know some of these people. They hold mid-size dinner parties with white wine and bruschetta. All of their favorite albums are soundtracks. They complain non-stop about the quality of the produce at their grocery store. And so on.”
— It used to be lonely, hating on Maureen Dowd. She lost me completely during the 2000 election, just after I left college. What a loathsome, miserable person who echoes every negative stereotype of women: the cattiness, the bitchery, the sex-as-weapon. That her harping occupies such real estate abets the notion that women aren’t “thinkers.”
We’ve taken our whacks at MoDo before. Sometimes, though, she is brilliant (e.g., during Lewinsky).
Rich Lowry’s 2001 column dissecting Dowd’s technique.
Me, in response to Nicholas Carlson’s question: “But what was Thain trying to say about the way Stan O’Neal kept his office?”
Katie Baker was also wondering about this. What an odd interview that was! (Watch the video at the first link).
“The Washington Examiner announced today that Timothy P. Carney, who has been writing a weekly op-ed column for the paper, was joining the staff full time to oversee a new K Street page.
Carney will write a lobbying column for the weekly page, which will make its debut in two weeks. He also will continue his Friday op-ed column.
“Most reporters write about how much money lobbyists make and what great access they have,” said Stephen G. Smith, editor of The Washington Examiner. “Tim writes about how they affect, and sometimes distort, the legislative process.”
Recession: When your neighbor loses his job.
Depression: When you shift down to virgin, rather than extra-virgin, olive oil.
In order not to break hearts or miss good friends who have plans on Friday, I’m trying to find a new venue for the birthday party. Our original venue was booked on Saturday so we were going to do it Friday. That’s run into its own troubles so now we’re in a last minute scramble for a Saturday night place. If anyone can help us come up with a new place for Saturday I’d greatly appreciate it.
We need to be able to set up DJs, have room for people to dance, have decent bartenders who won’t mind us filling their spot for the night and it must be below 14th Street in Manhattan. Any suggestions? Reblog or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Banker girl: But how will I recognize you at the party?
John Carney: Haven’t you ever seen me on CNBC?
Banker girl: You should use that line more often.
John Carney: I can’t believe I just said that.
Banker girl: Never mind. I just google imaged you. Nice beard.
I think she thinks I was in the movie “Once.”
For obvious reasons, I’m on a bit of a nostalgia trip today. I dug up this birthday invitation from four years ago. As you can see, not much has changed.
From: Carney, John (NY)
Sent: Tuesday, February 01, 2005 6:30 PM
To: Carney, John (NY)
Subject: Destroy 2005! The. Worst. Party. Ever.
It’s been a mean, harsh winter. The young man is notching the wooden stock of his weapon, tallying the kills he has made against the occupying Communist force. The grizzled air force pilot warns, “All that hate is going to burn you up, son.”
The young man replies, “It keeps me warm.”
The chaos begins Saturday at 9 o’clock in the depths of the Cellar, 325 East Fourteenth Street between First and Second Avenues. We’re going to chase away the cold and the darkness with fire, hope and booze. The DJ will play music, the lasses will dance with the lads, the bartenders will pour you drinks. It’s my birthday party, and it’s what you are doing this Saturday night.
No gifts that are not poured in a glass over ice.
Bring everyone. Give me a call if you run into any problems. We may move on to another venue as the night pushes into the morn, so call ahead to locate the trouble if you are going to be very late. It’s not a bar crawl (too cold for that this year) but I also have a fear of commitment, so the odds are we’ll achieve mobility at some point. Finally, this is New York City under Bloomberg, so bring your dang ID.
PS: If possible, drop me an email and let me know you’re coming so I can warn the bar about how many of you vagrants, villains and vixens might show up and ruin their night. If you forget, show up anyway.
Sadly, the Cellar is now gone. I’m not going to subject everyone to a bar crawl this year. We’ve done the Winnie’s Karaoke birthday party to death. This year will be something new.
Two years ago today I sent out this email to my friends.
As many of you might already know, I am scheduled for surgery on Monday. The plan is to put humpty-dumpty back together again, and get a leg back in the place where I am now toting around a sack of pain and broken bones. I got out of the hospital a week ago yesterday, and since then I’ve mostly been confined to my recovery safehouse on Wall Street. I can get around a bit on crutches but it is not easy, very painful and more than a bit dangerous. The picture attached is from my one trip across the city to see my doctor and schedule Monday’s surgery. (Meghan took the picture and dedicated most of her Wednesday to accompanying me back and forth to the doc’s. It was a five hour ordeal. Thanks, Egg-man.)
Mostly, I wanted to write to all of you to say thank you so much for your visits, gifts, goodies, cards, calls, texts, emails and good wishes. I’m hardly the type to look for silver linings in clouds. Instead, let’s think of it as the glass of good scotch hidden behind the pitchers of pabst. Or something. The point is that I am so happy I have such wonderful friends who have done so much to take such great care of me. I can’t say enough in appreciation. You’ll all receive individual words of gratitude from me in due course (send your mailing addresses!) but for now this group hug will have to do. I have the greatest gang of friends in the world. You all made this a much more endurable time for me. I think Kevin noted that I was “in good spirits” way back when I was first hospitalized. He was right, and I stayed that way largely because of the Great Souls of all of you. I can’t imagine anyone has ever had a more heroic, loyal, funny and faithful army of brothers, sisters and comrades. Thank you all.
Here’s the deal for the next couple of weeks. The surgery will involve putting a bone graft of some sort at my tibular plateau (that’s the top of my shin bone), and a couple of metal plates to hold my bones together. (Followed by years of fun at metal detectors). After surgery I will take a few days to recover and then get back to working, writing for DealBreaker and other projects. (By the way, stop by the site. Bess and Keith have done a tremendous job with it in my all-too-long absence.) I still won’t be able to put any weight on my right leg, so my mobility will be restricted. It will take several weeks and lots of physical therapy to get myself walking properly again. (I’ve been getting advice from Randy on how to do various once-ordinary and now complex tasks on one leg.)
Since I’ll still be more or less housebound, I’d love to have visitors at any time. I’m almost always here on Wall Street, so just call or text if you want to stop by. It’s really the only form of socializing I get to do these days.
Some of you probably remember that today is my birthday. Unfortunately, there won’t be a blow-out bash as in past years. First of all, the Cellar is closed. Second, I think the crutches and cold rule out the kind of Frozen Hell Avenue A Bar Crawl I organized four years ago. And the Winnie’s Karaoke Night (three and five years ago) has basically played itself out. Oh, and then there’s the whole “I’m still crippled and on pain medication” thing that rules out a huge party. There will be a bash someday soon. A birthday/recovery bash, perhaps in a couple of weeks. Hopefully featuring the DJ stylings of Dens and Kevin. I’ll keep you posted. The plan for tonight is to drop by Allis for game night. (This might get changed if it snows—no good for crutches—or if I hear her elevator isn’t working.)
Hope to see you all soon. Sorry for the inordinate length of this email. Thanks again for everything. You are a small, select group that will always be special to me. I keep thinking of that Band of Brothers speech from Shakespeare. One day long hence I will tell stories of this time and when I roll up my pant leg and show my scars I will talk about you, you mighty few, my band of friends who fought by my side through the days of injury and pain, and all who could not be here will turn away ashamed while any speak of the glory we had in January of 2007.
Wow. Pain meds making me all emotional. The Irish are immune to psychology but put us on opiates and take away our whiskey for a couple of weeks, and look what happens. I’ll end this here while my dignity still survives.
PS: Yes. I am wearing a kilt in the attached picture. And, yes, I did make the kilt myself. It’s a long story.
PPS: If you really want to know more about what it’s like to be laid-up with lots of broken bones and pain, well it’s no big deal. Really. But there’s no loot, there’s no booze and it’s no fun. But the Tossers said it better than I can. See for yourself below.
Now here’s the good news: I’m finally going to have that long awaited party. It will be either Friday or Saturday. Save the dates. And, yes, I know there’s a bunch of other stuff going on Friday like the Apes & Androids show and the AntiKris birthday. If we do it that day, you can just go there and stop by mine afterwards or something. Even if you can’t make it, I’ll still love you anyway. Details to follow.
Also, I’m kind of considering wearing the kilt out again.
Steve Sailer points out that most of Obama’s life experience and his political campaign has left him ill-prepared for our current economic disaster.
“Obama was looking forward to the Presidency as the culmination of a career single-mindedly devoted to spending other people’s money. What does he know about making money? To Obama, creating wealth was always an occupation for cruder souls. Let Old Man Annenberg get rich on TV Guide, so long as he would give tens of millions to finer spirits like Obama and Ayres to dole out to their allies. So, Obama has been thrashing around, announcing giant plans to screw in lightbulbs here and fill in potholes there. And, there will be lots more regulation. It’s all been depressing and dopey, but who has any better ideas? So, let’s come up with some better ideas. Please post them in the comments.”
The truth is that most of us are in a similar position. We haven’t had to build an intellectual framework in which to deal with the problem of greatly diminished wealth with mounting debt on a national scale.
So, tumblrs, if you’ve got great ideas for helping us out of our current mess, reblog them.
—Barack Obama, 44th President of the United States (via inauguration)
Wow. So even Obama is an Obamaniac. I had kind of assumed that he knew the expectations of hope and change were overstated and that the perrenial facts of human nature would manifest themselves in politics as they always do. It’s going to be a rough time if he doesn’t develop a more realistic sense of the possibilities of politics. Politics is the art of the possible, and the most important virtue of a politician is prudence. Let’s hope Obama starts to catch on quick.
…we saw check-ins from Limelight, the Fillmore East, Danceteria, the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory (“it’s gettin’ hot in here!” -Krucoff), the Five Points (“party at Five Points! it’s a riot!” -Carney), and McGurk’s (“shit, this place is so depressing I could slit my own goddamn throat” -moi), though sadly no Palladium or Tunnel or Max’s Kansas City, at least not from my Dodgeball friends.
And there was a check-in from Tenjune on behalf of Chris O’Leary. We’re pretty sure that was just wishful thinking on his part, hoping it will soon join the ranks of New York establishments that no longer exist.
Faile checked in from the Village Idiot too.
My fellow citizens:
gathering clouds and raging storms…
the coldest of months…
the shores of an icy river…
The snow was stained with blood…
this winter of our hardship…
what storms may come.
If for some reason you can’t get into some cool inaugural party tomorrow night or just don’t want to show up at the NYT party at the New Museum too early, drop by this thing at the Penn Club to hear Joe Dubs and I explain our theory of the greatest scam in history.
Tuesday, January 20th, 630pm
Making Sense Of Madoff
Go behind the headlines with journalists from Clusterstock and Barron’s to learn about what happened, the cast of characters involved, and what will unfold next in this financial scandal of the century.
John Carney, managing editor of Clusterstock, a financial site offering up to the minute news and analysis. Prior, John served as editor in chief of DealBreaker.com, a Wall Street online tabloid. He has contributed to New York magazine, The New York Sun, The New York Times, Time Out New York, The Wall Street Journal and other publications. He has been a frequent guest on CNBC.
Joseph Weisenthal, editor for Clusterstock. Prior to that Joe was a correspondent for paidContent.org, as well as the Opening Bell editor at Dealbreaker.com. He previously was a writer and analyst for Techdirt.com, and before that worked as an analyst for money management firm Prentiss Smith & Co.
Erin Arvedlund, business reporter. She has worked as a columnist for Barron’s, a foreign correspondent with the New York Times, and a staff writer for TheStreet.com. In the spring of 2001, as a Barron’s reporter she was among the first to publicly question Bernie Madoff’s record.
$10 per member and $20 per guest by January 16th at noon, $20 for member walk-ins and $30 for guest walks-ins. For reservations, e-mail email@example.com or fax 212-403-6621.
The Penn Club is located at 30 west 44th street, between 5th and 6th Avenues.