There is simply no way to balance the 2011 budget without touching entitlements. Even if we completely dismantle the military, we’re only saving $895 billion, which represents only 70% of the budget gap.

In other words, we have to tackle Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, and other entitlements–as well as the debt itself–if we’re going to ever achieve a balanced budget from the spending side. Third rail of politics? Perhaps. But frankly I’m thinking anyone who is unwilling to discuss, say, raising the retirement age is so irresponsible as to require resignation in disgrace.

What I learned last week is what happens when the ass-scraping is ineffective at removing the blockage. The pus builds up so much that the gland gets infected. And the infection eats away at the glandular wall. And a new hole is formed. Blood and pus are discharged. And a lot of pain results. Followed by antibiotics and stitches, if a veteranarian gets involved.

How do I know this? Cooper recently had the “explosive” variety of cheesy butt. And is recovering nicely, thank you.

I proposed a solution to the “too big to fail” problem in 2008 that essentially suggested the owners of very large corporations should no longer be given the benefit of government-created limited liability, and should instead be responsible for the debts of the company. I stand by that suggestion as a potential stick.

An alternate form of that proposal is to bring back the age-old requirement of capitalization in exchange for corporate status. Essentially, corporations would be required to have its assets valued greater than its liabilities by some margin. Say, minimum 1%. Or some dollar figure. Perhaps the capitalization requirement should only be in place with respect to a subset of corporations. Say, those that engage in certain practices–say, lending–or those that have a market capitalization in excess of a certain amount. Perhaps it should require a certain quantity of liquid assets. And for those corporations that fail to maintain a minimum net worth, or perhaps willfully misrepresent its net worth, they’d be denied the primary benefit of corporate personhood, limited liability.

Perhaps we should also consider banning insider directors. Or repealing portions of Gramm-Leach-Bliley and thereby reducing the probability of the useful-yet-only-marginally-profitable lending bank model being corrupted by the with the inherently-risky-and-therefore-potentially-highly-profitable investment bank model.

But really the problem seems to be the excessively-leveraged nature of the modern financial company. And to fix that, we need to encourage them to become less leveraged. With a carrot-stick approach, allowing a given bank to become as leveraged as the market will allow, but holding its owners accountable if the shit hits the fan unless it becomes less leveraged, we’re providing the right, effective balance.

Thoughts?

[From scanners.]

The twenty or so individuals who show up for jury duty fill the room. Judge asks them generic questions, like “have you heard of this case?” “are you related to or close friends with law enforcement?” and “is there any reason you could not be fair and impartial if you were chosen to be seated on this case?” The prosecutor then has twenty minutes or so to inquire directly. Then defense counsel has twenty minutes. Prosecutor gets another five, then defense get another five.

Today, one juror disclosed early on that her parents were killed by a drunk driver, and that what with this being a DUI case, she didn’t believe she could be fair and impartial. Good for her: candor is welcome.

Thing was, it opened the door for the wackos. One juror actually said, and I’m paraphrasing, “I was once stopped for DUI. I’d been out drinking with the chief of a tribe on the res in Idaho. We both drove–drunk–in our respective cars. Got stopped by tribal police. They felt because they weren’t going to prosecute him–he was the chief, after all–they couldn’t prosecute me.” Prosecutor followed up: “learn any lessons from that experience?” Response: “I try harder not to drink and drive so much.”

Another juror, possibly trying to use a variation on Homer Simpson’s prejudiced against all races ruse, indicated he believed my client was guilty based upon the fact of the charges and the fact that a law enforcement officer was listed as a potential witness. Moreover, he unequivocally indicated he didn’t give a rat’s ass what the judge had to say, he was going to consider my client guilty no matter the instructions or evidence.

The best was a woman who apparently had been the official driver of a three-time DUI-convictee niece. Her niece had been prosecuted by the same prosecutor trying this case. And she was angry with him that he hadn’t been harder on her. She also indicated that “no one gets pulled over who hasn’t done something wrong” because “every time I get pulled over, I’ve done something wrong.” And glowered at me repeatedly, but with an eerie smile on her face.

Got voir dire stories of your own that you can share?

When D and I bought a house last year, many of the rooms were covered in somewhat cheap carpeting. Before purchasing the house, we peeked under a few corners to discover the original hardwood floors appeared to be in relatively good shape. So before we moved in, we tore out the carpet and had a guy come in to refinish the floors. [By the by, pulling up carpet tack strips is a pain in the fucking ass.] What we were left with was a lot of carpet and padding. Which lived in the garage. Until this past weekend.

D and I rented a pickup truck to run a few errands, including hauling the carpet to the dump. [Apparently used carpet is non-donatable. At least I couldn't find any charity, recycler business, or government entity in Olympia that would take it.] We arrived and started hurling the bed full of waste into a giant dumpster. Fine. The overall smell of the dump was unpleasant, but fairly mellow. A well run solid waste treatment center.

Until a van pulled in next to us and started unloading garbage cans filled with, well, Snapple bottles. Snapple bottles that appeared to be filled with liquefied feces. Judging by the overpowering odor of shit, I’m reasonably certain these cretins, rather than using a toilet or hole in the ground, had placed their puckered anuses on top of wide-mouthed Snapple bottles and let the diarrhea flow.

The dry heaves followed as the garbage cans were upturned. Apparently some of the Snapple bottles had broken, pouring out their repulsive human waste directly into the can. Why would these folks have driven in a van–with the windows up, mind you–for who knows how far with a night soil-and-Snapple slurry sitting in the back seat? Who knows.

All I do know is that, with apologies to its purveyors, I can no longer abide Snapple.