Courtesy of Wait.. Wait.. Don't tell me -- NPR.
It's a circus out there, still.
THESE are the folk who claim that their tax rate is onerous at Oh.. ~ 30%, depending upon how much is stashed off-shore:
Exhibit 1:
A beach-front for a sumptuous hotel (whose motto includes, ..for the filthy rich) which is refrigerated via coils under the sand ... lest these expensive feet should experience the pain of unprotected desert-sand.
Exhibit 2:
The soon to be completed -??- TallestBuildinginnaWorldÂ
-- to be built on sand --
aka WhatPossiblyCouldGoWrong here?
Exhibit 3:
The 'special venue within same' for ONLY the aforementioned Filthy Rich (a phrase actually used in their advertising.)
(It seems that one of the bailed-out BankCorps has issued suggestions to their office-party planners: keep it to "12 or under" revellers (though accompanying bodyguards masseueses, valets et al -- don't count as people.))
Some things are so old they're New again --
Let's restore the tax rates of The Eisenhower Years (when not a single CIEIO jumped from a tall building, despondent over the penurious 15x - 30x of normal salaries paid to proles
I see.. I see.. certain symbols cut-out from Target stores' shopping bags and surreptitiously affixed to the backs of the Armani (suits and their Suits) -- as a familiar icon suggesting ... Aim Well and Often.
Word for the Day: obloquy