The Great Recession Reading List (expanded)

Paul Krugman's learning material for his class on the Great Recession has been released online, and you can check it out in the link below.

http://www.businessinsider.com/paul-krugmans-recession-reading-list-2013-12?utm_source=Pulse&utm_medium=App&utm_campaign=partner

This got me thinking about what I would include as a professor for this class. I've read a staggering amount of books on the GR (humblebrag alert!), including some of Krugman's own work. The following is a list of books I personally read and recommend for everyone looking to understand what happened, and how the forces of the political arena in Washington fostered an environment where systemic fraud can masquerade as legitimate, albeit risky, business:

1. Austerity by Mark Blyth

2. Bad Samaritans by Ha-Joon Chang

3. Bailout by Neil Barofsky

4. The Betrayal of the American Dream by Donald Barlett & James Steele

5. The Big Short by Michael Lewis

6. Boomerang by Michael Lewis

7. The Bubble and Beyond by Michael Hudson

8. Debtor's Prison by Robert Kuttner

9. EConned by Yves Smith

10. End This Depression Now by Paul Krugman

11. The Great Divergence by Timothy Noah

12. Griftopia by Matt Taibbi

13. The Myth of the Rational Market by Justin Fox

14. Pity the Billionaire by Thomas Frank

15. Plutocrats by Chrystia Freeland

16. Predator Nation by Charles Ferguson

17. The Price of Inequality by Joseph Stiglitz

18. So Rich, So Poor by Peter Edelman

19. The Unwinding by George Packer

20. White House Burning by Simon Johnson & James Kwak

21. Winner-Taker-All Politics by Jacob Hacker & Paul Pierson

There are a few other books, like Free Lunch The Fine Print by David Cay Johnson, not listed here but are essential reads for progressives looking to grasp the larger economic forces at work here.

Would you add any books to this list? Am I a douche for making a blog post about a list of books I read? Sound off in the comment section!

Will The Centrists Ever Go Away?

Addressing inequality in a society with rampant unemployment, crumbling infrastructure, low wages, record child homelessness, etc. won't resonate with voters. Not at all.

Voters don't want certainty in their lives- they want competition. Voters don't want living wages- they want corporations to feel loved. Voters don't care about the concentration of wealth in the hands of the few- they just want a chance to be one of the few.

All voters really want is the opportunity to swim after the carrot dangling from the stick attached to the back of a speeding yacht just christened with a $1,000 bottle of champagne.

Potential Democratic voters ignore buzzwords like "inequality" and campaigns that focus on the 1% vs 99%, or "us vs them" politics. What voters really crave is reconciliation for the financial industry, and bipartisan proposals that ask everyone to sacrifice equally.

Those centrists sure know their politics.

Poveritis Defined For Use In Courtroom Defense

noun: poveritis (pov-er-i-tis)

A psychological and physical terror, affecting individuals residing within impoverished communities. Symptoms include, but are not limited to:

-diminished economic opportunities
-below grade level comprehension skills
-lack of self worth
-violence
-self loathing
-dilapidated public schools

Nurture vs Nature: Affluenza Edition (Updated February 7th 2014)

Have you ever wondered why society rarely considers environmental effects when doling out sentences in our criminal justice system? Ever since the days of Horatio Alger's Ragged Dick, Americans have been enthralled with stories of enterprising individuals who rise up from their wretched beginnings, through sheer determination and hard work, to live a life of luxury. The pit isn't inescapable, you just have to work hard to climb out. Bootstraps, young fella, are there to pull yourself up. No childhood excuses are allowed for deviant and wasteful behavior in adults.

Nowhere is this philosophy on clearer display than in the courtroom. You name a crime, and I'll show you how the environment had no impact on the developmental process of the criminal who commits the act. Rape, abuse, generational poverty...they're just hurdles that are expected to cleared. In other words, no matter what base you're born on, we can all reach home plate. The factors inside the house just aren't part of the equation. If the instances of physical abuse can be represented by X, and forced sexual encounters can be represented by Y...ah, who cares. You're a fucking murderer.

Of course, anyone with a sense of decency knows the above is bullshit, and in Texas, we FINALLY have case that recognizes the lasting damage a difficult upbringing can have. Here are the facts, devoid of the horrific context in which the killer was raised:

-16 years old
-Stole cases of beer
-Drank to 3x legal limit
-Killed four people with car

Sounds like a reckless teenage asshole who deserves the maximum juvenile sentence allowable, right? His punishment must fit his crime. Otherwise, we risk losing the deterrent factor. Right? Wrong. This poor boy is the victim of what is called "affluenza."

From the Huffington Post: "A psychologist called as an expert defense witness said the boy suffered from "affluenza," growing up in a house where the parents were preoccupied with arguments that led to a divorce. The father "does not have relationships, he takes hostages," psychologist Gary Miller said, and the mother was indulgent. "Her mantra was that if it feels good, do it," he said.

It's exquisitely refreshing to hear that this young man will not be placed in the Texas juvenile system, where his emotional needs wouldn't be adequately addressed. His monstrous, litigious parents are paying $450,000 per year for a rehab center in California. It's the least they could do, after pushing the child to murder with their cruel alternate weekend vists, and separate holidays feasts.

Affluenza has claimed the lives of too many in this country. It's a pernicious disease acquired at birth, and it never relents. Here's hoping the criminal justice continues to recognize the devastation caused by wealth, privilege, and divorced parents.

UPDATE

The affluenza argument worked. Ethan Couch will spend time in a wealthy drug rehab center that his wealthy parents will pay for. At least the taxpayers save on the prison costs right?

This is an outrage, a travesty of justice, and a fistful of salt into the open wounds of every black and brown mother and father who lost their child/children to the system for non-violent crimes.

In America, a white suburban child living under the constant threat of intramarriage squabbles suffers more internal environmental damage than black or brown kids living in Camden or Detroit. Makes you wonder if that has to do with the backgrounds and experiences of our nation's judges, lawyers, and academics. What were they more likely to be afraid of at night? Daddy using the "c" word, or grandma getting a stray bullet in her gut sitting on the porch?

Shantytown, USA

In America today, there are millions of black children living in communities that have been ignored by the government, and preyed upon and abused by criminals of all collars. They are effectively shantytowns. How else to describe the communities in and around a system like the Chicago Public Schools? If government action/inaction has led us to a place where 80% of students are black, UE is over 20% for their parents, 1 in 3 of their fathers have criminal records, and the only avenue out is littered with potholes, how are we any different than the Apartheid government? Because a few of them successfully navigated a street lined with craters? Because our laws don't contain explicitly racist language? Nonsense. We condemn particular ethnic citizens to a mathematically assured fate before any of them are born. Where are the international divestment movements against us?

A day after Nelson Mandela's death, we should take note of the lessons learned by his enemies more than those of which his supporters will cherish forever. His enemies, and the enemies of racial progress in general, have convinced enough people that institutional racism doesn't exist unless someone says the n-word while writing up legislation. In other words, if it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, it must scream "I'm a fucking duck" before anyone can possibly consider it being a duck.

As an ode to Mandela and countless others, be on the look out for 21st Century racism, and call it out wherever you find it. It won't be wearing a hood, riding a horse, but it will be in favor of cutting food stamps, and giving public buildings to charter schools rent free.

Some Words on Peeping Toms

I don't get Peeping Toms. Is there no internet access where these people live? I'm sure there's enough Peeping Tom inspired porn videos to get them through the day. Is masturbating a part of it, or is this just field level reconnaissance for later? I'm leaning towards the latter because it seems pointless to masturbate when you're exerting so much energy and focus at peering through a small hole. Did glory holes start out as Peeping Tom holes that the victims saw and encouraged? What tools does a Peeping Tom need with him to make the perfect eye sized hole from which to stare at naked women? Didn't this happen in Corkys? What a shit movie that was.

Just Curse

Life is full of unimaginably insane ideas, customs and rules. We all know what they are and they are tolerated. It would take many lifetimes to list them all, so instead, I will focus on one particular grievance of mine:

Cursing.

Not the abundance of cursing, but rather the lack thereof. 

First, let's deal with the obvious- there are no "bad" words. There are only what you consider to be "bad" words. "Fuck", "shit", "motherfucker", "cocksucker", etc. are not bad words. They are the appropriate, natural, non-contrived words to use in a variety of situations. Network TV shows have acknowledged this by inserting the phrase "son of a bitch" into all categories of character interactions in which the "bad" words would normally appear. The Irish & English have their own versions of catch-all-curse word: "bollux" & "sodding". 

This brings us to my second issue with cursing- the emotion behind the words is what matters most. For example, let's say me and you go into a business partnership and after a short period of time, it's clear that I have fucked you over. And you have decided to confront me, which leads to a passionate argument about what happened. You are disgusted with my business practices and walk out, but not before telling me, in an angry tone- "Screw you John." The phrase "Screw you" is just a cookie-cutter, fake version of "Fuck you". You might have said "Screw you", but you really meant "Fuck you." You gain absolutely nothing doing this.

Few things bother me more than adults using the word "poop" as a substitute for what they really meant to say: "shit." It happens all the time, in life and in entertainment. It's an unacceptable comedic crutch for people over 13 years-old (teenagers graduate from using the word "poop" to "crap"). Yet, in both low-brow and high-brow comedies, the word is consistently used. Even revered shows like "30 Rock" and "The Office" have used the word as the basis for a joke. Puncuating a joke with or centering a joke around the word "poop" is so fucking lazy. Instead of trying to dress up toilet humor in a suit of well-written dialogue, a lot of TV shows, movies and comedians take the opposite approach that Seinfeld did and use the childish term "poop." What do I mean by that, you ask? Here's a classic example: In comedic laymen's terms, George is telling Jerry how he had to stop fooling around with his girlfriend because he had to "poop":

George: "Well, it's this little place with this little bathroom. It's like right there, you know, it's not even down a little hall or off in an alcove. You understand? There's no... buffer zone. So, we start to fool around, and it's the first time, and it's early in the going. And I begin to perceive this impending... intestinal requirement, whose needs are going to surpass by great lengths anything in the sexual realm. So I know I'm gonna have to stop. And as this is happening I'm thinking, even if I can somehow manage to momentarily...extricate myself from the proceedings and relieve this unstoppable force, I know that that bathroom is not gonna provide me with the privacy that I know I'm going to need..."

That's how you tell a shit joke as an intelligent adult. Seinfeld properly weaves toilet humor into a quality show, without resorting to using the word "poop". It's easy to imagine how writers with less ability would have written that scene...

In the end, in terms of comedy and life itself, it's best to remember this one rule:

Children poop, teenagers crap and adults shit.

Scattered Thoughts & Observations Vol. 1

Despite some above-moderate success in life, I've never really had a feeling of accomplishment- just a wave of relief that the task was over. That's my definition of laziness.

Best Drunken Puke Session: My freshman year of college, some of the upper classmen had a suite in the main dorm room building. If it was an awesome suite, it would be spelled "sweet". So, take that into consideration. I don't know what time it was, but it was definitely late- already told a few of my best stories. That usually happened after 2am. A wise senior suggested that drinking beer from the can wasn't the most efficient way to get drunk. He was an Economics major. Funnels were introduced, which weren't, aren't and will never be fun. A freshman girl funnelled three beers- consider three beers via funnel as the women's tee. The men's tee was a few yards back, somewhere near way the fuck more than what she drank. Like most great ideas at 3am, the end result was not what one would have hoped for. Best case scenarios quickly dissipated, but left behind a series of symptoms associated with an alcohol related disaster: soaked shirts, suds burps, Leaning Tower of Pisa positioning, lone rally cry to drink some more, chorus of moans disapproving such an idea, etc. Knowing that puking was inevitable, I made my way to the bathroom, thankful that it was no more than a few feet away. Upon entering one of the two community stalls (for 20+ people), I sat down and locked myself in. Using the elbow on my right arm, I bashed open the toilet paper dispenser and leaned my head against it in order to fall asleep. An hour later, my eyes open and people are banging on the door trying to wake me up. Success. Turns out, some other people were still conscious in the suite and grew worried when I didn't return after 20 minutes. The river of slush like puke seeping from underneath the stall door was a possible starting point. One of the least popular players on the team had to crawl through my V8-esque textured puke to unlock the door from the inside. I was unresponsive. Last thing I remember is being dragged by four or five guys down a flight of stairs and into my bed. I wake up at 9 am the next day refreshed.

When I encourage you to cross the street, while I'm driving, please take note of the physical gesture that is made. Two casually strolling fingers weren't placed on the dashboard, letting you know it's ok to cross at a snail's pace. It was a quick gesture- more of a, "yes, you can cross, but let's do this reasonably". At least give me the fake, 1/8th normal speed Heisman-pose jog.

Naturally sweetened in a plastic bottle.

The homeless should keep an eye out for discarded keyboards in the trash. There's food under them keys.

What Do I Do: Hitting Someone With Your Car Driving Drunk On A Dark Rural Back Road

Personally, I will do anything in my power to stay out of prison, including ratting out my family and friends. While I do love them dearly, I love my ass more. Having watched every episode of Oz twice, I'm well aware of what prison can be like.  I made a vow to never become Tobias Beecher (but I did name podcast after him):

You're at a bar with your friends and you were supposed to be the designated driver, but of course, you had more beers than allowed (given that the average bar excursion lasts three or more hours, DD's can typically have up to and including a third beer. On a side note, designated drivers are my least favorite double Ds). It's still your responsibility to drive everyone home, despite the fact that you are now drunkish. If you're less drunk than your friends, then you're the DD- it's all relative. 

In rural places, the roads aren't as brightly lit as they are in urban areas. "I Want it That Way" just came on the radio and everyone in the car is putting on their own individual acapella concert, which distracts you from driving. Suddenly, after looking back to see two of your friends hilariously collaborating on an air mic, you hit something in the road.  Whatever you hit rolls along the roof of your car and falls onto the road behind you. Now, we have a situation to deal with: Hitting Someone With Your Car While Driving Drunk On A Dark Rural Back Road.

Your first instinct is to drive away. This is a HUGE mistake.  Once you leave the scence, you lose the opportunity to be the first one to discover the body. This is key to understanding how to handle this situation- be the first person to check the body. Exit the car at warp speed and make your way to the lump of flesh in the road. Checking for signs of life.....oh shit, he's dead. Now what?

Run back to the car and pop the trunk. Ask everyone in the car to help you move the body into the trunk. Do this without hesitating- start dragging the body towards the car, while screaming for help. Once each of the people in your car touch the dead body en route to it entering your trunk, they are now responsible for being part of a criminal act. Make sure you maintain a frantic disposition, so that nobody has the time to question whether this is a good idea. If they do, make a note of that and keep going. After getting the body off the road and into your trunk, it's time to drive away. Be prepared for someone to break the silence in the car with a question regarding the legality and/or morality of what just happened. Your friends are hardly Goodfellas and this is more than expected. 

First, reassure them that I Know What You Did Last Summer was just a movie. Try to inject some humor into the situation by bringing up how stupid the title for the sequel was- if it took place a year after the original incident, it's more like I Still Know What You Did Two Summers Ago. There's a 99.9% chance this won't work. At some point, someone is going to say that the cops must be called. This poses a huge problem.  Since it's the 21st Century and more than 4.1 billion cell phones are in use today, odds are the person who is talking about calling the authorities has the means to do so at anytime. Bring up the fact that this person helped move a dead body from the road into the trunk of you car for the purpose of hiding the accident and that calling now will still get them in trouble. Protests will be voiced, but it's your obligation to drown that out with wave after wave of criminal liability. 

It doesn't work. One of your drunk idiot friends is going to call the police. We are now entering the most challenging phase of our journey- silencing this person by any means necessary. Stop the car in the most awkwardly deserted area you can find- use the rouse of trying to find the best cell phone reception to make the call. Once this person gets out, you have to kill them. This is not negotiable.  This person has proven to be completely untrustworthy and appealing to their better nature will result in no positive outcome for you. The preferred method of murder is up to your discretion, but make it quick- you will have a second body to put in the trunk. Call out to your friends still in the car, but keep in mind they are not likely to appreciate their friend's lifeless body lying at your feet. 

Nobody will help you. There are screams and someone vomits. This is a major issue. What to do?  First, remind them that they are already knee-deep in criminal mischief.  They helped you move a dead body into your trunk and they let their friend die at your hands. What are they going to do now? Risk their freedom? Go to prison? Make sure to reference something horrific from Oz, like the ex-Nazi who got a spoon shoved up his ass. Hopefully, they get the point, but in case one of them don't, you have to rinse and repeat what you just did until either everyone that was a witness to the crime is dead or has gotten the point that you will kill them if they say anything.  Leave a fisherman's hook on the front door of your friends who weren't really buying your explanation of I Know What You Did Last Summer being fictional if you have to.

So, on a night that started with drinks and laughter, you could end up burying a stranger and two or three of your friends to hide a crime. Just call a cab and avoid all the bloodshed.