Auto Bailout: "redistributing wealth from the successful to the failed, an implausible formula for prosperity."
Ronald Bailey | November 19, 2008, 9:41am
Washington Post columnist George Will nails the proposed Federal bailout of the Big 2.5 today:
"Nothing," said a General Motors spokesman last week, "has changed relative to the GM board's support for the GM management team during this historically difficult economic period for the U.S. auto industry." Nothing? Not even the evaporation of almost all shareholder value?
GM's statement comes as the mendicant company is threatening to collapse and make a mess unless Washington, which has already voted $25 billion for GM, Ford and Chrysler, provides up to $50 billion more -- the last subsidy until the next one. The statement uses the 11 words after "team" to suggest that the company's parlous condition has been caused by events since mid-September. That is as ludicrous as the mantra that GM is "too big to fail." It has failed; the question is what to do about that.
The answer? Do nothing that will delay bankrupt companies from filing for bankruptcy protection, so that improvident labor contracts can be unraveled, allowing the companies to try to devise plausible business models. Instead, advocates of a "rescue" propose extending to Detroit the government's business model for the nation -- redistributing wealth from the successful to the failed, an implausible formula for prosperity. (emphasis added)
And it only gets better. Read the whole column here.
Hogan | November 19, 2008, 11:12am | #
My name is Charlie Brennan, from Charlestown I come.
I've traveled this wide world over, and many a race I've run,
I've traveled this wide world over, and some ups and downs I saw,
But I never knew what mis'ry was till I came to Arkansas.
I dodged behind the depot, to duck that blizzard wind.
Met a walking skeleton whose name was Thomas Quinn,
His hair hung down in rat-tails on his long and lantern jaw.
He invited me to his hotel, the best in Arkansas.
I followed my conductor to his respected place,
Where pity and starvation was seen in every face.
His bread it was corn dodger, his meat I could not chaw,
But he charged me half a dollar in the state of Arkansas.
But I didn't like the work, nor the food, nor the swamp-angel,
nor his wife, nor none of his children. So I went up to him and I told him,
"Mister, I'm quittin' this job. I want to be paid off."
He says to me, "All right, son." And he handed me a mink skin.
He says, 'That's what we use for currency down here in Arkansas.'
So I took it into a saloon to see if I could get a pint of whisky.
Put my mink skin on the bar, and be durned if the bartender didn't slip me that pint.
Then he picked up my mink skin, blowed the hair back on it, and handed me three 'possum hides and fourteen rabbit skins for change...
...
So farewell to swamp-angels, to canebrakes and fever chills
Farewell to sage and sassafras and corn-dodger pills.
If I ever see this land again, I'll give to you my paw
But it'll be through a telescope, from Hell to Arkansas.