(NOW WE'RE GETTING SOME) NOTES FROM A FRIDAY AFTERNOON
bailing the hay of my
mind.
For your consideration: another curious collection
of thoughts, reactions, and observations that didn't make it into a full-length
post this week. So they're sort of like all those tasty little crumbs you find
at the bottom of a cookie jar. But without the calories and the
guilt...
• Just when you think President Bush can not possibly prove himself any more desperate or delusional, he emerges from his month-long (year-long? six-year-long?) vacation to give a speech in which he compares the war in Iraq to the war in Vietnam -- and seems to think this will convince us to keep fighting. I'm not sure this strategy will work, but I do eagerly await his next foreign policy speech, in which he will compare Baghdad to Little Big Horn.
• The President originally planned to compare the fighting of the Iraq War to the sailing of the Titanic, but he said he didn't want people swooning over thoughts Leonardo DeCaprio when they should be swooning over thoughts of David Petraeus.
• On Wednesday, I referred to UPMC as the Death Star of Western Pennsylvania health care. Yesterday, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette's Dan Fitzpatrick reported that the imperial hospital network's fiscal 2007 profit was a record $618 million. In this passage, he cuts straight to the (congestive) heart (failure) of the matter: UPMC's profit, referred to as "excess margin" in its financial statements, is typically the figure that receives the most scrutiny and prompts the question: How can a nonprofit make that much money? This, after all, is the sixth straight year of increases for UPMC; back in fiscal 2002, its profit was just $23 million, before climbing to $61 million in 2003, $248 million in 2004, $291 million in 2005 and $525 million in 2006. But [UPMC CFO Robert] DeMichiei emphasized during an interview that UPMC's profit provides financial stability (the three major credit agencies all rate UPMC as 'AA') and the ability to continually reinvest in new projects that benefit the community at large. This will no doubt be great comfort to the next sick child whose parents can not afford to pay their UPMC deductibles. Or their premiums.
• Whenever a nonprofit makes an obscene amount of profit -- I mean, enjoys an abundance of excess margin -- its executives always scream research and new projects and continual reinvestment. But then another year passes, and they ring up an even more obscene amount ofprofit margin.
(Don't they, Mr. DeMichiei?) So they must not be investing too much. Or else
they are investing, but they're also continuing to gouge the shit out of their
patients -- I mean, customers
-- and fattening their already bulging bottom
line by overcharging or limiting or outright denying coverage to a hell of a lot
of people who need it.
• You want to reinvest some of that $618 million margin, Mr. DeMichiei? Here's a radical idea. How about investing it in some less expensive care for some more sick people?
• One of the (many) things in this world I simply can not abide is unfettered narcissism. Especially online. Even when it originates from Pittsburgh. And most especially when it tries to pass itself off as serious political reform.
• Carbolic Smoke Ball items (that I might have had something to do with) on the subject appear here and here.
• The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette's new web design is, I'm sure, still a work in progress. The site is actively seeking suggestions, and I suspect that tweaks and improvements will follow for days or even weeks. The one I'd most like to see is a return of -- oh, I don't know -- the illusion of content on the home page. I'm sure some consultants somewhere told them that the old home page was too cluttered and anarchic. And I suppose that in some ways it was. But at least it gave the impression that this was a site bursting with news and information, chock-full of stories and photos and editorials and all sorts of good stuff that was just a click or a scroll away. This new design -- besides, as I've already lamented, looking and feeling uncomfortably like The Onion; I mean, if you're going to mimic a fake news site, at least emulate a good one -- just gives the impression that not much is going on (dominant feature above the scroll: ads), that what is going on isn't very important (links that used to populate the page are now mostly relegated to the bottom, in an inexplicably microscopic font that makes me me want to reach for a pair of binoculars), and that they aren't really in much of a hurry to tell us about it anyway (here's a story, and some white space, and a couple of links, and some more white space, and some obituaries, and some more white space, and... what the hell's with all the white space?). The old design was a bit cluttered, yes, but that clutter had a life, an energy, a humanity. The new design is much more clean and crisp and sleek, but it is also, so far at least, much more cold and distant and sterile. In short: the site has lifted its face but lost its soul.
• TWM's Unfortunate Freeze-Frame of the Week Award goes to this little gem from AccuWeather:
It's difficult to know where to begin. With the great electric pickle attacking Canada? The ill-placed storm-cloud speech bubble? The pained expression on that poor guy's face? Or the realization that he has, with the force of one tremendous, glowing fart, caused all that dry air to hang over Maine and Nova Scotia? My God, people -- doesn't anyone pay attention to these things before they go live?
• TWM's Mixed Metaphor of the Week Award goes to CNBC's Erin Burnett, who yesterday told Natalie Morales about good news on the national mortgage crisis: We're not out of the woods yet, but there is a very bright light at the end of the tunnel.
• That light no doubt shines from a ray of hope that will wash our troubles away.
• Because we may be down to our last out, but the fat lady hasn't sung yet.
• And... oh, alright. I know. But I could keep this up all day.
• Really. I could. Like a runaway train on a river of dreams.
• TWM's Agreement Error of the Week Award goes to the folks at Reuters who, in a senseless item about an equally senseless study suggesting a T-Rex could have outrun David Beckham -- and I'm sure that it could have; unless, of course, there was a photographer waiting at the finish line -- unleashed this little excerpt from a fourth-grade grammar worksheet: The velociraptor, whose speed and ferocity was highlighted...
• It's always a shame when grammar and usage is ignored by professional writers, doesn't you think?
• Two days after Moving On from the Michael Vick story, Sports Illustrated's NFL home page still boasts six -- count 'em, six -- items on the subject. Vick's name appears five times. His image appears once. Which is pretty damned excessive by any measure. But imagine for a moment how melodramatic the coverage would have been if he were actually a good quarterback.
• Did my eyes deceive me, or did I spot a new set of Chiclet-perfect, Oral-B-factory-produced teeth in Bill Cowher's mouth in that KDKA interview footage? If so -- and I'm pretty sure I did -- then I want to know who made him do it. The new bosses at CBS? The old boss at home? Or have a few months of retirement merely turned The Jaw into The Vain?
• This week's inevitable Crowded House plug comes from Bud Scoppa's Uncut magazine review (****) of the new CD: The fact that Time On Earth takes several listens to sink in practically ensures that it will be undervalued, if not ignored, which is a shame, because this taut album possesses the immersive qualities and cumulative impact of a good novel.
• It's been an interesting week for comment-thread fireworks -- a couple of exchanges over at The Burgh Report alone were worth saving and re-reading -- but my favorite bit of the week comes courtesy of Steven James, commenting on the comments on a Rolling Stone item about Neil Young's forthcoming album: Bob Dylan (the father). Neil Young (the son). Bruce Springsteen (the holy ghost). It’s in the Bible. Deal with it. I'm glad I’m an old man. It’s no wonder there’s so many bitter comments on here. I’d be bitter too if I was a young man growing up with today's music.
• Amen, Brother James. Amen.
• Just when you think President Bush can not possibly prove himself any more desperate or delusional, he emerges from his month-long (year-long? six-year-long?) vacation to give a speech in which he compares the war in Iraq to the war in Vietnam -- and seems to think this will convince us to keep fighting. I'm not sure this strategy will work, but I do eagerly await his next foreign policy speech, in which he will compare Baghdad to Little Big Horn.
• The President originally planned to compare the fighting of the Iraq War to the sailing of the Titanic, but he said he didn't want people swooning over thoughts Leonardo DeCaprio when they should be swooning over thoughts of David Petraeus.
• On Wednesday, I referred to UPMC as the Death Star of Western Pennsylvania health care. Yesterday, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette's Dan Fitzpatrick reported that the imperial hospital network's fiscal 2007 profit was a record $618 million. In this passage, he cuts straight to the (congestive) heart (failure) of the matter: UPMC's profit, referred to as "excess margin" in its financial statements, is typically the figure that receives the most scrutiny and prompts the question: How can a nonprofit make that much money? This, after all, is the sixth straight year of increases for UPMC; back in fiscal 2002, its profit was just $23 million, before climbing to $61 million in 2003, $248 million in 2004, $291 million in 2005 and $525 million in 2006. But [UPMC CFO Robert] DeMichiei emphasized during an interview that UPMC's profit provides financial stability (the three major credit agencies all rate UPMC as 'AA') and the ability to continually reinvest in new projects that benefit the community at large. This will no doubt be great comfort to the next sick child whose parents can not afford to pay their UPMC deductibles. Or their premiums.
• Whenever a nonprofit makes an obscene amount of profit -- I mean, enjoys an abundance of excess margin -- its executives always scream research and new projects and continual reinvestment. But then another year passes, and they ring up an even more obscene amount of
• You want to reinvest some of that $618 million margin, Mr. DeMichiei? Here's a radical idea. How about investing it in some less expensive care for some more sick people?
• One of the (many) things in this world I simply can not abide is unfettered narcissism. Especially online. Even when it originates from Pittsburgh. And most especially when it tries to pass itself off as serious political reform.
• Carbolic Smoke Ball items (that I might have had something to do with) on the subject appear here and here.
• The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette's new web design is, I'm sure, still a work in progress. The site is actively seeking suggestions, and I suspect that tweaks and improvements will follow for days or even weeks. The one I'd most like to see is a return of -- oh, I don't know -- the illusion of content on the home page. I'm sure some consultants somewhere told them that the old home page was too cluttered and anarchic. And I suppose that in some ways it was. But at least it gave the impression that this was a site bursting with news and information, chock-full of stories and photos and editorials and all sorts of good stuff that was just a click or a scroll away. This new design -- besides, as I've already lamented, looking and feeling uncomfortably like The Onion; I mean, if you're going to mimic a fake news site, at least emulate a good one -- just gives the impression that not much is going on (dominant feature above the scroll: ads), that what is going on isn't very important (links that used to populate the page are now mostly relegated to the bottom, in an inexplicably microscopic font that makes me me want to reach for a pair of binoculars), and that they aren't really in much of a hurry to tell us about it anyway (here's a story, and some white space, and a couple of links, and some more white space, and some obituaries, and some more white space, and... what the hell's with all the white space?). The old design was a bit cluttered, yes, but that clutter had a life, an energy, a humanity. The new design is much more clean and crisp and sleek, but it is also, so far at least, much more cold and distant and sterile. In short: the site has lifted its face but lost its soul.
• TWM's Unfortunate Freeze-Frame of the Week Award goes to this little gem from AccuWeather:
It's difficult to know where to begin. With the great electric pickle attacking Canada? The ill-placed storm-cloud speech bubble? The pained expression on that poor guy's face? Or the realization that he has, with the force of one tremendous, glowing fart, caused all that dry air to hang over Maine and Nova Scotia? My God, people -- doesn't anyone pay attention to these things before they go live?
• TWM's Mixed Metaphor of the Week Award goes to CNBC's Erin Burnett, who yesterday told Natalie Morales about good news on the national mortgage crisis: We're not out of the woods yet, but there is a very bright light at the end of the tunnel.
• That light no doubt shines from a ray of hope that will wash our troubles away.
• Because we may be down to our last out, but the fat lady hasn't sung yet.
• And... oh, alright. I know. But I could keep this up all day.
• Really. I could. Like a runaway train on a river of dreams.
• TWM's Agreement Error of the Week Award goes to the folks at Reuters who, in a senseless item about an equally senseless study suggesting a T-Rex could have outrun David Beckham -- and I'm sure that it could have; unless, of course, there was a photographer waiting at the finish line -- unleashed this little excerpt from a fourth-grade grammar worksheet: The velociraptor, whose speed and ferocity was highlighted...
• It's always a shame when grammar and usage is ignored by professional writers, doesn't you think?
• Two days after Moving On from the Michael Vick story, Sports Illustrated's NFL home page still boasts six -- count 'em, six -- items on the subject. Vick's name appears five times. His image appears once. Which is pretty damned excessive by any measure. But imagine for a moment how melodramatic the coverage would have been if he were actually a good quarterback.
• Did my eyes deceive me, or did I spot a new set of Chiclet-perfect, Oral-B-factory-produced teeth in Bill Cowher's mouth in that KDKA interview footage? If so -- and I'm pretty sure I did -- then I want to know who made him do it. The new bosses at CBS? The old boss at home? Or have a few months of retirement merely turned The Jaw into The Vain?
• This week's inevitable Crowded House plug comes from Bud Scoppa's Uncut magazine review (****) of the new CD: The fact that Time On Earth takes several listens to sink in practically ensures that it will be undervalued, if not ignored, which is a shame, because this taut album possesses the immersive qualities and cumulative impact of a good novel.
• It's been an interesting week for comment-thread fireworks -- a couple of exchanges over at The Burgh Report alone were worth saving and re-reading -- but my favorite bit of the week comes courtesy of Steven James, commenting on the comments on a Rolling Stone item about Neil Young's forthcoming album: Bob Dylan (the father). Neil Young (the son). Bruce Springsteen (the holy ghost). It’s in the Bible. Deal with it. I'm glad I’m an old man. It’s no wonder there’s so many bitter comments on here. I’d be bitter too if I was a young man growing up with today's music.
• Amen, Brother James. Amen.
Posted: Fri - August 24, 2007 at 12:00 PM
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Published On: Aug 28, 2008 10:24 PM
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Published On: Aug 28, 2008 10:24 PM