Category: Merit Crusade

“We Are Good Bosses,” Says One Boss to Another


Screaming BossSo, that's how these people manage to live with their own shitty selves!  They walk around with a clear conscience; with no doubt in their souls about their actions.  They don't think about the injustices and the insults of different caliber they spread around with every step they take.  They don't even qualify them as injusticies and insults.  Instead, they pat each other on the backs and tell themselves that they are good bosses!  Their self-delusion probably goes even further: I am terrified to think about it, but they might have convinced themselves that they are good people.  Honestly, the idea of these people going through their lives thinking that they are saints makes my skin itch on the inside.  

To tell you the truth, I prefer honest assholes, like the ones whose primary traits are itemized in the list provided by the Time's article attached on the bottom of this post.  They are at least somewhat conscious of their attitudes and  justify their behavior with the "business necessity."  You know: A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do – that sort of thing.  I also think that self-aware bastards are less casual with their cruelty.  Unless they are real sadists, they apply it knowingly and, therefore, sparingly.  

The conversation quoted in the title is not an allegory: I actually had the misfortune of witnessing it.  I had to summon all my will power not to burst out laughing at these jerks.  I've had pangs of suspicion that many business owners felt good about themselves, but this was the first time one of them actually voiced such self-deception in my presence.  Why was it so bitterly funny?  Because, the statement was prompted by their finally adapting a pension plan they promised their employees two years ago. 

These are employers who pick favorites and treat them with an obvious preference, while discriminating against others.  They forget to disclose new commercial initiatives, thus forcing everyone to run against time in order to turn their ideas into business realities.  They will not hesitate to make a "good-natured" joke at an employee's expense or brazenly comment on someone's deficiency.  The list can go on, and on, and on, and on…  What can I say?  Swell guys! 

But let's see.  What are (in my opinion) the attributes of a really Good Boss???

1.  Fairness and objectivity; no bullshit like, "I don't like that bitch's personality, so I don't care if she's going to leave, even if it'll hurt my company."

2.  Dedication to a merit-based system of rewards comprised of both tangible and moral incentives.

3.  Intelligence and business acumen that perpetuates the company's success and keeps employees gratified that they don't work for an incompetent idiot.

4.  High performance standards applied equally to everyone – first and foremost to his/her own work.

5.  Capacity to fully comprehend the abilities and  values of their direct reports.

6.  Sufficient organizational savvy to match subordinates' abilities with functional tasks.

7.  Acceptance of personal responsibility as a job-creator and human-resources leader.

8.  Strong emphasis on the development of employees' know-how and professional growth.

9.  Balanced combination of delegation and efficient supervision; none of that hands-off micromanagement crap I write so much about.

10.  An actual effort to understand people working for the company.

11.  Sufficient tact and self-confidence (!) to prevent casual personal insults, usually resulting from deeply seated insecurity.

12.  And this one is just for me: For once in my life I would like to work for someone with a good memory, because I'm fucking fed up with their forgetting time after time the stuff I say, write, and report to them.   

So, my dear business owners and other chiefs, try to test your performance against the criteria above and see how you do.  None of the "good bosses" I know would score enough for a "D" grade.

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Quote of the Week: The Genius of Showtime’s “Shameless” Defines “The American Dream”


“Lip Gallagher:

It’s like I said, the only way to make money if you are poor is to steal it or scam it.  But, hey, let me know if the rules are changing…”

                   Shameless (episode 3.2, written by Nancy Pimental)

The Frustrated CFO’s commentary:

If you take this opinion of a 17 year-old genius with a 4.6 GPA and an IQ of 200 out of its literal white-trash, destitute, semi-criminal settings, you will find the undeniable metaphorical truth in it.  Both Lip (too wise for his age, thanks to the middle-aged screenwriter) and I are aware of the American Dream reality as it stands right now.  No matter how talented and hard-working a person is, he or she will not be able to achieve the recognition his abilities merit if he doesn’t have the “right” background and connections that can push complete retards through the doors closed to regular people.  There is no such thing as a “self-made man” anymore.  Most of the time those who say that about themselves mean that they had less money when they started then they have now.  But no doubt there was a phone call, or a letter, or a conversation over drinks, or some old-farts reunion that gave him a start.  Not even a degree from a fancy college can beat that.  In the grand scheme of things, there is not much difference between Lip, Fiona, their father, a young talented doctor with a residency in some Bumblefuck, the first-in-the-family MBA, an artist or a writer with no connects, or me. 

To Those Who Doubt My Objectivity: HBO “Girls,” Season 2, Episode 8


Ok, I honestly thought that my post about the foreign press conspiracy was the last thing I would ever write about Lena Dunham, HBO’s Girls, the unjustified and pervasive brouhaha surrounding them, etc.  But I was never joking when I said that merit and objectivity were placed very high on my hierarchy of values.  They are so important to me that I can even look at a pool of  shit, notice a few specks of goodness there, and effortlessly say, “This is a pool of shit, but those couple of things are quite good.” 

No, I didn’t change my mind about Dunham’s creations so far, especially the ones she’s done on her own, without any help from other writing and directing talents; nor did I recant my opinion about the hipsters of media who buzz her up to the sky.  But that doesn’t prevent me from objectively acknowledging that the 8th episode of the second season, It’s Back, was a remarkable breakthrough.

For the very first time, the show elevated itself to the level of truly generational significance.  Because, if anything unites people in their 20s across geographical borders, nationalities, social origins, monetary standings, physical appearances, intellectual abilities, and creative talents, it’s the unprecedented levels of anxiety, uncertainty, disorientation, and doubt (whether deeply hidden or worn right there on their faces) we have instilled in them.

Yes, WE, most of all the parents, but also teachers, employers, mentors, and public figures – we fucked them young bitches up with our twisted, contradictory, egomaniacal, and unfounded “guidance!”  We tell them to pursue their dreams, yet want them to be financially self-sufficient.  We tell them that they can achieve whatever they want if they try their best, while knowing very well that no amount of hard work and talent can compete with inroads based on personal connections.  We tell them that a higher education leads to better employment, while openly complaining about our own jobs.  We convince them that they are talented, unique, smart, and beautiful, yet cannot summon enough decency to show them the respect they actually deserve.

And so, here, in episode 8, we have a gallery of ALL the lead characters presented in nearly equal measure (already an outstanding feat for “Girls”), with their various manifestations of the generational malady:

Absent is Jessa, the eternal quitter, once again wandering away in search of the false thrills of a “real life” (beautifully written out in the previous episode into her already-showing pregnancy by the Six Feet Under alumnus Bruce Eric Kaplan).

The dashing, gifted, interesting, and earnest Adam, who theoretically should not have any qualms about getting a girl, admitting to his blind date (set up by the girl’s mother),  that he is so nervous, he’s “sweating bullets.”  And we just know that he will fuck it up eventually.

The heart-broken Charlie, who drops his guitar and channels his pain into creating an iPhone app inspired by the obsessive pain inside him.  Yes, he cashes in on it and, by “society’s standards,” he seems to be on the top of the world, but his sad eyes say otherwise.  Moreover, we know all about the longevity of these startups.

The awkward Shoshanna, torn between the die-hard concept that college is supposed to be “the best time of one’s life” (never mind all those NYU suicides) and the reality that she lives with an adult man whom she actually supports; scared that, whether successful or not, she will be just as lost as her friends after graduation.

The “adult” Ray himself, a self-proclaimed “homeless loser,”  who is smart and possibly talented (in something), but is trapped in the reality that he cannot find a way into the world, in which he believes he belongs.  Yet, he still feels that he has a right to give advice to his fellow struggler “to stop being a cartographer, and start being an explorer.”

Here is Marnie, standing in front of Ray, crushed by disillusion and failing to be “the most likely to succeed.”  Pushed to the edge, she admits that all she wants to do is to sing… and turns out she has a beautiful instrument for it too.  Who could possibly know?  She was hiding it from everyone.

And there is Hannah…  This is the first show on television that unflinchingly uncovered a true portrait of OCD, without providing any comically cutesy cushions for the audience – just a straight blow to the head in all its ugliness.  This is what it’s really like – exhausting and debilitating, leaving you feeling powerless, reduced to a fucking puppet. This is also the first time someone showed with an admirable subtlety what it does to a girl when her loving father tells her: “You can’t be anorexic – I’ve seen you in a bathing suit.”

Considering the track record up to this point, it’s hard to believe that all of it was fitted into one episode.  It was written by three people – Lena Dunham herself, Steven Rubinshteyn (who served as Ms. Dunham’s assistant for the two seasons), and Deborah Schoeneman (who worked as the story editor on the show).  The rich material gave Jesse Peretz an opportunity to use his directorial skills for real. 

And they did all this without any cheap tricks: no false dramatics, no incoherent story turns, no random bare breasts and asses.  Instead, the episode was finally able to achieve a high degree of emotional nakedness.                   

Is this the beginning of a transformation?  I hope so.  Episode 9, On All Fours, (written by Dunham and Jenni Konner, directed by Dunham) is definitely an excellent follow up.  I always said, that Lena Dunham is a capable person, who will get better as she learns from other talented people.  But, on her own, she has a long way to go before she can truly live up to the hype around her.  Will she learn humility and start giving credits where they are due?  Who knows? 

Interestingly enough, as reported by The Atlantic Wire on March 7th, the co-authors of the It’s Back episode are not invited into the third season’s writers’ room.  Moreover, everyone in that room has been fired.  Only a few older pros will be allowed to share credits with Ms. Dunnam in the third season: Apatow, Konner, Kaplan, Heyward.  Maybe it will help Lena to hold on to her “so young, so brilliant” status longer?  These people will always be older than her.  You know who else is pegged to participate?  Dunham’s parents.  Reverse nepotism?  Oh, well…  

2013 Golden Globe Awards and the Foreign Press Conspiracy Against America’s Future



Like many other people exposed to human congestion and the environmental deterioration of big cities, I got hit by a terrible flu.  So, for quite some time I could only summon enough strength to drag my ass to work (THAT show, of course, must always go on).  Hence, as reactions to the Golden Globes broadcast go, this post is definitely outdated.  On the other hand, my sentiments are unlikely to change, so it’s just as well…

Nearly every time I go abroad, I am exposed to various degrees of anti-American attitudes.  Last time I was entering London’s National Gallery, I had to watch American flags being set on fire on Trafalgar Square.  In most European countries, economic and social difficulties are openly blamed on the US by both official and popular opinion-makers.  People shamelessly gloat every time we have a natural disaster and entertain themselves with predictions of our imminent economic and moral destruction.  Even in Amsterdam’s coffeeshops (aka hash bars), where the consumption of various cannabis products is supposed to make customers laid-back and agreeable, the hostility flares up at the sound of an American accent. I’m not going to venture into the anti-US mood swings of many Asian, African, and Latin American Nations – it would require a separate series of posts.

Individuals and nations alike have a need to absolve themselves and blame someone else for their troubles.  The wealthiest country in the world full of fucked up crap (as a true patriot I never deny problems) makes for an easy target.  But why don’t they first stop going to McDonalds, watching our movies, googling, and tabulating in Excel?  And, please, stop blaming us for Justin Bieber!  He is Canadian, for crying out loud!

The truth is that there is only a small contingent of people in the world who are capable of forming their own opinions even about matters close to their own homes, leave alone those far removed.  The majority, like a flock of sheep, rely on judgments presented by someone else through various media outlets.  Make no mistake: foreigners are just as susceptible to the brainwashing powers of newspapers, magazines, and TV as our domestic masses. 

Prominent journalists and commentators have a tremendous influence on the attitudes of their nations, especially in smaller countries.  Moreover, it’s a reciprocal relationship: as reading and viewing audiences become more receptive to particular sentiments, the media purveyors cater to their likings in order to retain their own popularity. 

Enter Foreign Press…  In general terms, any journalist who lives in the United States (the definition applies to any country, actually), but works for a public medium abroad, reporting on our domestic events, is a foreign correspondent.  These journalists, most of them expatriates, impact the way people in other countries view America. 

They usually conglomerate in major news hubs:  New York City, Washington DC, Los Angeles, etc.  In fact, I believe that New York Foreign Press Association, formed in 1918, is one of the oldest of such organizations.  Yet, not too many people know about it. 

However, many people around the world know about Hollywood Foreign Press Association (HFPA), even though it counts as its members only 93 journalists.  Or, at the very least, people know about the awards they have been granting since 1944 for achievements in film and television – the Golden Globes.  These reporters write on the subject that is most likely to attract the largest audiences – the United States entertainment industry.  They represent 55 countries in Europe, Asia, Australia, and Central and South America.  Wikipedia estimates their combined readership around 250 million (!).  And, boy, do they have an agenda! 

I can probably write another dissertation breaking down the clever and camouflaged ways they perpetuate their purposes: why Argo and not Zero Dark Thirty; why Les Miserables and not Silver Lignings Playbook, or Moonrise Kingdom; why Homeland (even though 100% deserving, but also perfectly fitting in their scheme) and not Boardwalk Empire; why Episodes and Smash and not Curb Your Enthusiasm and VEEP.  Why on Earth did they completely ignore a 2012 movie that not only celebrated the resilience of human spirit, but also raised a bar of creative filmmaking, while breaking the walls of the Hollywood bastion – Beasts of the Southern Wild?

Of course, I am not planning on writing a thesis.  I just want to dwell a little on one question: Why the fuck  did HFPA shove two Golden Globes into the grabby hands of Lena Dunham?  Obviously, they had their reasons. 

If one tries to think logically about this, it seems doubtful that the middle-aged-to-quite-old journalists from Egypt, Philippines, Japan, China, Russia, and Brazil would pay any attention to a tiny show about a group of youngish hipsters, especially the one with ratings too low and viewership too small even by cable standards.  But our own self-absorbed hipster-driven domestic media, in their unforgivable ignorance and blind confusion of values, served up Dunham as an overbuzzed gift.  A handful of people with similar backgrounds proclaimed her to be the “voice of the generation” they really know nothing about.  And that’s a very dangerous claim.   

HPFA took notice; rejoiced; said, “Much obliged!” and started parading this embarrassment to the whole world.  Look, they say to their 250 million readers in various countries, these characters are what all young Americans are like: navel-gazing, purposeless, severely limited in their abilities and skills, obnoxiously bad-mannered, insincere, unaware, incapable of squeezing out of themselves one true emotion or an original thought.  This is the American Future. 

By allowing them this opportunity, Dunham did a great service to the foreign entertainment journalists.  Therefore, she has totally deserved her two Golden Globes.  By letting her climb on stage at the Beverly Hilton Hotel twice, they exposed her as a “new American entertainment and media darling.”  Look, they say, this is the person hailed as a breakthrough by culture commentators and “intellectuals” (God, forgive me, for calling them that!), talk show hosts, Hollywood producers, the art community and whatnot.  They adore her, while in reality she is:

A “creator” without an ability to imagine characters, situations, or plots.  She can only transfer to paper and/or screen her own personal existence or the lives of the poor exploited mother-fuckers who got caught into her sticky cobweb.  If there is a need to invent something genuine, it’s Jenni Konner (the actual coiner of “the voice of a generation” label) or Sarah Heyward to the rescue.  On a few occasions Dunham ventures out of her comfort zone of the first-hand experiences, she steps right into the fuzzy cloud of her girly fantasies with an explosion of silliness.  I swear, the only time Dunham made me laugh out loud was during the 5th episode of the 2nd season – what buffoonery!  Honestly, in comparison, the wetly dreaming Dunham makes Stephenie Meyer look like a real creator. 

A ” writer,” whose first published work will be a self-help book.  What?  No secret collection of innocent and fragile early poetry?  Every respected author has it somewhere in their most private drawer.  Of course, it probably wouldn’t garner a $3.6 million advance.  The real literature never does (see Arts and Entertainment by the Numbers – Books).

An “actress,”  who couldn’t memorize her acceptance speech lines – the only winner of a Golden Globe with a piece of paper in her hand.

A “comedienne,” who tries to be funny by reminding her fellow nominees how much younger she is and telling them that they helped her through middle school.  Even though, I have to be honest – I cannot complain too much about that, because it gave Tina Fey a chance to write the funniest line of her career to date: “Amy, I know you since you were pregnant with Lena Dunham.”

A “director” incapable of overcoming her personal feelings and give some screen time to her other “lead” characters, cutting out their best tidbits (which are just a few to begin with).   You are right, Howard Stern, “she hogs the screen,” and I have no idea what kind of strings she pulled to make you recant your true opinion of her.    

A chameleon, who changes her attitudes depending on her PR management’s recommendations.  First, her characters were “reflections.”  Obviously, she was told that they were not very sympathetic.  Now she says that the “girls” were exposed as being self-absorbed on purpose.  The show gets criticized for being too white.  Instead of admitting that she really has no people of color in her life, she throws Donald Glover into her hodgepodge…  only to cast him away after two episodes.  The PR whispers into her ear that she comes off as too sure of herself in all her interviews and talk-show appearances, and she starts screaming about her “confidence issues” every time she gets a chance.  Seriously?  I know quite a bit about self-doubt.  You don’t fool me.  

A “nice girl” (as proclaimed by all), who in her conversation with the former It Girl, Miranda July, for Interview magazine openly admitted that she was a complete asshole as a school girl and a college student, and that now she adapted an equally “sweet” disposition towards everyone without any discrimination.  Apparently, some people get confused assuming she is their friend.  

A conniving manipulator, who undercuts all reasonable critics by calling them haters or qualifying them as shallow: “I’m a real person with a real body and that’s why you don’t like me.”

What can I say?  Even if the foreign press was a dark-magic cabal, they couldn’t conjure a better poster girl for their purpose of showing the American future in the worst possible way.

Now, let’s see.  Do Girls’ characters actually represent any portion of the 43 million Americans ages 20-29?  Yes, they do – 800,000 hipsters residing in the big cities on the East and West Coast, who faithfully watch the show (the other 3 millions of viewers consist of the hipsters’ parents, the media, and the cultural pundits).  That’s less than 2%!  

Does Lena Dunham, who takes her voice (plus, face and body) of the generation role very seriously, actually represent anybody at all?  Yes, she does – a handful of privileged kids, who were empowered by their well-connected parents to do whatever they wanted and were handed undeserving opportunities by the mafia of Nepotism.

And the saddest part is that dear Lena is not going anywhere.  Nowadays, award-winning shows scattered all over the place: broadcast networks, FX, Showtime, etc.   To keep the statuettes’ numbers up, HBO will continue pouring money into products that attract foreign and domestic media attention, whatever the reason.  They just picked up Dunham’s new show idea for development.  In return, she will keep upholding her family tradition by shoving her crap into everyone’s face. 

Look at that photo!  This is what she does: like a fucking hamster on stilts she wobbles on the red carpets and in the back rooms, trying to imprint herself on as many “players” as she can, making the foreign press and their readers very happy.