Just Don’t It?

Am I the last person in America to notice that the insignia for Newport cigarettes is an inverted Nike swoosh?

newport

It adds new resonance to that passage from “Gas Face,” by 3rd Bass:

Deceivers, stupefied through fable,

Say let’s make a deal at the dinner table

Put you on tour, put your record on wax (trust me!)

Sign your life on the x

You exit, x-off, but what you really get:

A box of Newports, and Puma sweats (damn!)

The Big Stall

This lengthy WSJ article on how Chrysler got into this mess is pretty informative. In some respects, it’s just another story of how private equity execs were geniuses when credit was cheap, but became dumb when they actually had to come up with ways to run the businesses that they’d bought. The article also includes some gems that require translation (all emphases mine):

By the mid-90s, it was one of the most profitable car makers in the world, with its strong minivan sales and its Jeep brand benefiting from the growing U.S. love affair with SUVs. But management was under pressure, most visibly from billionaire shareholder Kirk Kerkorian, to deliver more value.

By “deliver more value,” they meant, “sell to a bigger company so we can get our shares bought out.”

When the deal was announced in May 2007, Cerberus founder Stephen A. Feinberg went to the company’s sprawling headquarters to meet its top management. He wore an American-flag lapel pin and he told his audience of about 300 executives that he drove an American-made pickup truck. People who attended the meeting say he said he wanted to save this icon of American industry, not to bleed it of assets and value.

By “not to bleed it of assets and value,” he meant, “to bleed it of assets and value.”

Under the terms of the deal, Daimler essentially gave the company — it was basically debt- and cash-free — to Cerberus, with the latter agreeing to invest $5.4 billion into the car company.

By “agreeing to invest,” they meant, “mortgaging the assets they’d just been handed, so they could load the company with debt,” not anything like, “put up their own money to run the company they ‘bought’.”

By then, Cerberus was seeking a way to hand off the car company to a partner.

Read: “dump off the car company on a sucker.” And maybe “bleed it of assets and value.”

By November, Chrysler’s sales were in free fall. Chrysler Financial was so short of funds that it practically stopped approving loans altogether, leaving many dealers with no way to get financing to those customers who were ready to buy, people familiar with the matter said.

Inside Cerberus’s Manhattan offices, the firm’s top officials realized an auto-financing business was profitable only if it’s connected with a healthy car company. “We had this stupid illusion that the finance company could have value on its own,” said one person familiar with Cerberus’s thinking. “We were wrong.”

You don’t really need translation for this one, but it’s nice to hear someone actually say, “We made a huge mistake.”

But my favorite nugget from this article is the realization that Chrysler was going to be owned by Thomas Pynchon:

[Cerberus founder Mr. Feinberg] also met with union boss Mr. Gettelfinger. Although Mr. Feinberg is famously camera-shy, he allowed a Chrysler photographer to shoot him and the union boss together, a person familiar with the matter said. The photographer was instructed to make two prints of the shot — one for each subject — and then to permanently erase the digital files, this person said.

I have no translation for this. It’s just flat-out and delightfully weird. It’s like when I read the intro to the first volume of Robert Caro’s biography of Lyndon Johnson and discovered that LBJ hunted down copies of his college yearbook so he could excise his nickname and other comments about himself from the record. (Did you even know People Magazine keeps an online archive?)

Without Portfolio

Portfolio magazine, Condé Nast’s big business magazine, closed down today. Because it’s Condé Nast and because it was all about big money, people keep talking up the purported $100 million (or is that $150 million?) that was spent on this mag for fewer than two years of existence.

Anyway, everybody’s got some sort of post-mortem about it: Daniel Gross, Jon Fine, Megan McArdle, a former staffer. My two cents: they were stupid to launch a mass-market publication about unphotogenic finance wonks at a time when print is dying. I don’t think Condé likes the internet, because ads for luxury brands don’t look good on a computer screen, so they were stuck trying to sell luxury companies big money ads in a recession.

Maybe they’ll finally come around and support my magazine about comic books, basketball, and gin, especially since I don’t need $100 million to launch it. I could probably get by with $30 or $40 million.

Save Our Newspapers!

. . . Otherwise, where will we get such awesome journalism as this NYTimes article about how male movie actors are getting fat as they get older?

A scene from the new journalistic thriller “State of Play” says it all.

Jeff Daniels, as the politician George Fergus, squares off with Russell Crowe, as the pen-wielding journalist Cal McAffrey.

Two men. One notebook. Four chins.

Hollywood’s pool of leading men is getting larger — and not necessarily in a good way.

The best part — and there are plenty of good parts, including the bit about how today’s aging male leads might be thinner if they just smoked cigarettes, like Humphrey Bogart (dead at 57 from throat cancer), Clark Gable (dead at 59 from a sudden heart attack), and James Stewart (dead at 264 from being a nice guy) — is that the article ends by treating an utterly implausible quote for a Hollywood PR rep at face value!

[Russell Crowe] might want to get some diet advice from Jason Segel.

Mr. Segel, 29, was fairly hefty in “I Love You, Man,” a comedy released by Paramount Pictures and DreamWorks in March. But his face looked surprisingly thin on billboards advertising the film.

The advertising photos were done some weeks after the film shoot, with a slimmer Mr. Segel, said Katie Martin Kelley, a publicity executive with Paramount. “There was no retouching done,” Ms. Kelley said.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Bob: Our big biotech industry conference always attracts waves of moonbat-crazy protesters. Remember that time in San Francisco when they wore riot gear, dived under the buses that were carrying attendees to the convention center, and screamed at attendees with bullhorns?

Irv: Sure! And what about the time the policeman had a fatal heart attack during protests in Philadelphia? That was terrible! I hope nothing like that happens again!

Oscar: Hey, guys! I just invited Karl Rove to speak on a panel at this year’s conference!

(I’m thinking of making this an occasional series, too. Maybe enough wrong-ass stuff will crop up every week that I can justify making it my Thursday post. My big decision: do I keep it as “What’s the worst that could happen?” or relaunch it as “I see nothing that could go wrong with this plan!”)