The lie of Mitt Romney as a “jobs creator”

When he’s out on the campaignLove of Romney trail, Mitt Romney styles himself as a “job creator,” a businessman whose acute insights and industry acumen forged thousands of jobs where none existed before. It’s what he says is his primary qualification to be president, to be the guy to get America out of this moribund economy and somehow jump-start the current climate of anemic job growth through the thoroughly debunked idea of trickle-down economics (i.e., tax cuts for the rich). He completely excuses the Republican Congress that has not only done nothing to create jobs, they’ve actively sabotaged any effort to improve the economy because, they reason, that would only help Obama’s re-election chances. But I digress.

Matt Taibbi is one of the most insightful and influential writers who cover Wall Street and its laundry list of malfeasance. In the most recent issue of Rolling Stone, Taibbi writes about Mitt Romney’s career as a part of Bain Capital, and what it was Bain Capital actually accomplished.

It’s a terrific article, full of the usual wit and sarcasm Taibbi brings to the table. I’m going to quote some parts at length, but this is just a portion of the entire thing, called Greed and Debt: The True Story of Mitt Romney and Bain Capital.

And this is where we get to the hypocrisy at the heart of Mitt Romney. Everyone knows that he is fantastically rich, having scored great success, the legend goes, as a “turnaround specialist,” a shrewd financial operator who revived moribund companies as a high-priced consultant for a storied Wall Street private equity firm. But what most voters don’t know is the way Mitt Romney actually made his fortune: by borrowing vast sums of money that other people were forced to pay back. This is the plain, stark reality that has somehow eluded America’s top political journalists for two consecutive presidential campaigns: Mitt Romney is one of the greatest and most irresponsible debt creators of all time. In the past few decades, in fact, Romney has piled more debt onto more unsuspecting companies, written more gigantic checks that other people have to cover, than perhaps all but a handful of people on planet Earth.

Take a typical Bain transaction involving an Indiana-based company called American Pad and Paper. Bain bought Ampad in 1992 for just $5 million, financing the rest of the deal with borrowed cash. Within three years, Ampad was paying $60 million in annual debt payments, plus an additional $7 million in management fees. A year later, Bain led Ampad to go public, cashed out about $50 million in stock for itself and its investors, charged the firm $2 million for arranging the IPO and pocketed another $5 million in “management” fees. Ampad wound up going bankrupt, and hundreds of workers lost their jobs, but Bain and Romney weren’t crying: They’d made more than $100 million on a $5 million investment.

To recap: Romney, who has compared the devilish federal debt to a “nightmare” home mortgage that is “adjustable, no-money down and assigned to our children,” took over Ampad with essentially no money down, saddled the firm with a nightmare debt and assigned the crushing interest payments not to Bain but to the children of Ampad’s workers, who would be left holding the note long after Romney fled the scene. The mortgage analogy is so obvious, in fact, that even Romney himself has made it. He once described Bain’s debt-fueled strategy as “using the equivalent of a mortgage to leverage up our investment.”

Then in 2000, right before Romney gave up his ownership stake in Bain Capital, the firm targeted KB Toys. The debacle that followed serves as a prime example of the conflict between the old model of American business, built from the ground up with sweat and industry know-how, and the new globalist model, the Romney model, which uses leverage as a weapon of high-speed conquest.

In a typical private-equity fragging, Bain put up a mere $18 million to acquire KB Toys and got big banks to finance the remaining $302 million it needed. Less than a year and a half after the purchase, Bain decided to give itself a gift known as a “dividend recapitalization.” The firm induced KB Toys to redeem $121 million in stock and take out more than $66 million in bank loans – $83 million of which went directly into the pockets of Bain’s owners and investors, including Romney. “The dividend recap is like borrowing someone else’s credit card to take out a cash advance, and then leaving them to pay it off,” says Heather Slavkin Corzo, who monitors private equity takeovers as the senior legal policy adviser for the AFL-CIO.

Bain ended up earning a return of at least 370 percent on the deal, while KB Toys fell into bankruptcy, saddled with millions in debt. KB’s former parent company, Big Lots, alleged in bankruptcy court that Bain’s “unjustified” return on the dividend recap was actually “900 percent in a mere 16 months.” Patnode, by contrast, was fired in December 2008, after almost four decades on the job. Like other employees, he didn’t get a single day’s severance.

In 2010, a year after the last round of Hertz layoffs, [the Carlyle Group] teamed up with Bain to take $500 million out of another takeover target: the parent company of Dunkin’ Donuts and Baskin-Robbins. Dunkin’ had to take out a $1.25 billion loan to pay a dividend to its new private equity owners. So think of this the next time you go to Dunkin’ Donuts for a cup of coffee: A small cup of joe costs about $1.69 in most outlets, which means that for years to come, Dunkin’ Donuts will have to sell about 2,011,834 small coffees every month – about $3.4 million – just to meet the interest payments on the loan it took out to pay Bain and Carlyle their little one-time dividend. And that doesn’t include the principal on the loan, or the additional millions in debt that Dunkin’ has to pay every year to get out from under the $2.4 billion in debt it’s now saddled with after having the privilege of being taken over – with borrowed money – by the firm that Romney built.

The full article is definitely worth your time. You can find it here.

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DARK PLACES, by Gillian Flynn

After finishing Sharp Objects, Gillian Flynn’s first novel, I immediately started Dark Places. I’m really torn between which of the two is not just my favorite Flynn book, but my favorite book of the year (so far).

Dark Places lives up to its title. It is unrelentingly grim. It’s not completely hopeless, but it is bleak, and dark, and overflowing with despair and desperation.

I loved every word of it.

The jacket blurb is below, with my commentary after.

“I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ.”

Libby Day was seven when her mother and two sisters were murdered in “The Satan Sacrifice of Kinnakee, Kansas.” As her family lay dying, little Libby fled their tiny farmhouse into the freezing January snow. She lost some fingers and toes, but she survived–and famously testified that her fifteen-year-old brother, Ben, was the killer. Twenty-five years later, Ben sits in prison, and troubled Libby lives off the dregs of a trust created by well-wishers who’ve long forgotten her.

The Kill Club is a macabre secret society obsessed with notorious crimes. When they locate Libby and pump her for details––roof they hope may free Ben––Libby hatches a plan to profit off her tragic history. For a fee, she’ll reconnect with the players from that night and report her findings to the club… and maybe she’ll admit her testimony wasn’t so solid after all.

As Libby’s search takes her from shabby Missouri strip clubs to abandoned Oklahoma tourist towns, the narrative flashes back to January 2, 1985. The events of that day are relayed through the eyes of Libby’s doomed family members––including Ben, a loner whose rage over his shiftless father and their failing farm have driven him into a disturbing friendship with the new girl in town. Piece by piece, the unimaginable truth emerges, and Libby finds herself right back where she started––on the run from a killer.

We know about Libby’s murdered family right away, although the story quickly calls into question the exact role her brother did or did not have in the killings. The chapters alternate between Libby in the present, told in the first person, and her brother Ben and her mother back in 1985, in the days and hours leading up to the murders. We get to know them both intimately, understand their hopes as well as their pain and anguish. It makes knowing the gruesome deaths that are coming for Patty and two of her daughters all the more horrible.

Ben is a lost boy, forever on the outside, whether it’s his family full of girls or the kids at  high school. A loner who feels like a coward, he’s drawn to drugs and Satanic death metal as a way of both rebelling and desperately fitting in.

His mother Patty loves her children but is completely overwhelmed trying to raise them on a failing farm she has no idea how to run. The farm had once belonged to her parents, who left it to her and her truly sleazy ex-husband Runner. With creditors closing in and foreclosure looming on the horizon, she grows increasingly frantic to find any way out of her dilemma.

I thought I’d had the mystery figured out pretty early on, but Flynn is a master of misdirection, and I ended up completely wrong. I was glad about that. I love being surprised in that way.

It was an exhausting, emotional read, but one I will recommend highly.

SHARP OBJECTS, by Gillian Flynn

I recently read Gillian Flynn’s third novel, Gone Girl, and while I loved most of it, I couldn’t help but be somewhat disappointed by the ending. (This seems to be the common complaint with the book.) Still, I liked it enough that I decided to go back and read her first two novels, Sharp Objects and Dark Places.

All I can say is, wow. Gillian Flynn is the real deal. Sharp Objects is the story of a deeply scarred young woman who returns to her hometown to report on the murders of two young girls for the small Chicago paper she works for. As usual, Flynn’s writing is top notch, her prose lyrical and gorgeous. But even more impressive is the psychological depths of her characters, all of them wounded and with secrets that are slowly unveiled throughout the course of the story. She meticulously details small town life in the south–the secrets, the class differences, the hidden (and not so hidden) cruelties that extend from high school into adult life. We are incapable of escaping our past, no matter how dark, no matter how much we may wish to.

From the jacket blurb:

WICKED above her hipbone, GIRL across her heart
Words are like a road map to reporter Camille Preaker’s troubled past. Fresh from a brief stay at a psych hospital, Camille’s first assignment from the second-rate daily paper where she works brings her reluctantly back to her hometown to cover the murders of two preteen girls.

NASTY on her kneecap, BABYDOLL on her leg
Since she left town eight years ago, Camille has hardly spoken to her neurotic, hypochondriac mother or to the half-sister she barely knows: a beautiful thirteen-year-old with an eerie grip on the town. Now, installed again in her family’s Victorian mansion, Camille is haunted by the childhood tragedy she has spent her whole life trying to cut from her memory.

HARMFUL on her wrist, WHORE on her ankle
As Camille works to uncover the truth about these violent crimes, she finds herself identifying with the young victims—a bit too strongly. Clues keep leading to dead ends, forcing Camille to unravel the psychological puzzle of her own past to get at the story. Dogged by her own demons, Camille will have to confront what happened to her years before if she wants to survive this homecoming.

Unlike Gone Girl, the ending of Sharp Objects does not disappoint. It grabs you by the throat and thrashes you around until all you can do is sit, stunned, at the power of her writing.

Highly recommended.

GONE GIRL, by Gillian Flynn. Buy this book NOW!!

I recently finished Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl, her third novel (I’m currently reading her first, Sharp Objects, and will read Dark Places, her second, after that).

Gone Girl is already my favorite book of the year. A dark, disturbing portrait of a husband and wife who know each other a little too well, and who have no doubts or hesitation about using their knowledge to both torment and support the other in ways both subtle and overt. Think Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolfe? mashed up with a Michael Connelly noir mystery and you’ll have some idea of what the book is like. It pulls no punches, leaves no psychological stone unturned.

It also has one of the most psychologically cunning villains to come along since Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs (we’ll conveniently forget the wretched sequels to that masterpiece).

From the jacket blurb:

On a warm summer morning in North Carthage, Missouri, it is Nick and Amy’s fifth wedding anniversary. Presents are being wrapped and reservations are being made when Nick Dunne’s clever and beautiful wife disappears from their rented McMansion on the Mississippi River. Husband-of-the-Year Nick Dunne isn’t doing himself any favors with cringe-worthy daydreams about the slope and shape of his wife’s head, but hearing from Amy through flashbacks in her diary reveal the perky perfectionist could have put anyone dangerously on edge. Under mounting pressure from the police and the media—as well as Amy’s fiercely doting parents—the town golden boy parades an endless series of lies, deceits, and inappropriate behavior. Nick is oddly evasive, and he’s definitely bitter—but is he really a killer? As the cops close in, every couple in town is soon wondering how well they know the one that they love. With his twin sister Margo at his side, Nick stands by his innocence. Trouble is, if Nick didn’t do it, where is that beautiful wife? And what was left in that silvery gift box hidden in the back of her bedroom closet?

This book is monstrous in many ways, yet still monstrously entertaining.

The ending has given some readers pause. It’s an ending that the story drives toward relentlessly, an almost necessary outcome based on everything that’s come before; but it’s not the ending the typical reader craves. I understood the logic behind the ending even as it left me rattled and disturbed. Still, it’s a magnificent work, at turns shocking and surprising. Highly recommended.

Seven minutes of terror: How Curiosity descended to the Martian surface

This video is from an interview on NPR with NASA engineer Adam Steltzner, the team leader for EDL (Entry, Descent and Landing). It’s a great read, and I highly recommend you check that out in its entirety.

It’s called the seven minutes of terror. In just seven minutes, NASA’s latest mission to Mars, a new six-wheeled rover called Curiosity, must go from 13,000 mph as it enters the Martian atmosphere to a dead stop on the surface.

During those seven minutes, the rover is on its own. Earth is too far away for radio signals to make it to Mars in time for ground controllers to do anything. Everything in the system known as EDL must work perfectly, or Curiosity will not so much land as go splat.