Being in the Black in terms of finances means you’re making money, times are good, you can think about next major purchases and you typically have a solid state of mind. Being in the Red is just the opposite, originating from the use of red pen in accounting books to denotes financial losses. Times are not good, people are not so happy and one typically thinks about downsizing and what to sell.
You’ll be happy to know that at this point in life my businesses and I are in the black, so far in the black that some are even suspicious of my success. These lucrative businesses of mine have been acquired through combinations of loopholes, hostile takeovers and good old fashioned leverage. Making money is only one variable of the wealth equation, the other and just as important variable is keeping it. So you watch your spending and budget carefully, right? No, you find yourself two lion tamers of accountants and let them go nuts with the numbers. It’s only tax evasion if you get caught, which is why you have that magician of an attorney in the first place.
Speaking of my accountants Bob is calling, I answer and the first thing is hear is “Donald Trump for President” What did you just say Bob?! He repeats himself. In a petrified tone I tell him he must be mistaken, my life is perfect, how could this happen, how could he let his happen? My questions are answered with a sharp –click- as he hangs up. Allow me to clarify, “Donald Trump for President” is our super-secret phrase that means, the shit has hit the fan after eating Taco Bell. The IRS and SEC have undoubtedly found some things that implicate my accountants and I in some ball clenching charges. Worst Saturday ever already, and on top of that my maids have quit for some reason, my wife Susan hasn’t done the dishes yet and the mailbox is full of papers that say “FINAL NOTICE”. Well I know one woman that can help me out.
To my attorney’s office, and away! But what shall I ride the black horsemen or should I fly in the stealth bomber? Yeah, you’re right Bentley over Ferrari. Upon arrival to my magician’s office I am immediately blocked by security. Something about unpaid attorney fees. With enough ranting and raving I draw her out into the parking lot and she informs me “You owe me so much money, it’s not even funny. I have no choice but to litigate in an attempt to recover what you owe me, and I will no longer represent you.” Seeing the look on my face she gave a nice deep laugh and wrote an address on a piece of paper. “Go see him” she said, pointing to the address. I was not so gingerly escorted back to my car with only one option left, go see “him”.
Having no clue who “he” is I put the address in the navigation, leaving out the part where she wrote “dumbass” and made a cannonball run to his office. Turns out its located in the Corporate HQ of Corporate America, the second most drab, unoriginal copy and paste building I will ever see. With no cars but my own in the parking lot, suspicions immediately arise. Add to that no secretary, security or anybody else inside I get the feeling this is just one more “screw you” from my attorney. Turns out this is also one of those superstitious buildings with no 13th floor labeled in the elevator. My piece of paper says “14th floor, asshole” and up we go, jamming to some pretty great elevator music.
-Ding-, 14th floor here we are. I walk out and a man is already there to greet me, somehow already knowing my name. “Hello Mr. Preshaw, glad you could make it, right this way sir.” I am escorted into “his” office, still not knowing “his” name. “So you screwed and your back is against the wall Mr. Preshaw?” he says getting down to business “I like to think my accountants screwed up more than I did, but sure, things are a bit dicey.” A wave of pure pleasure washes across his face as he sees right over my understatement. “Well helping people is my specialty, and guess what? It will cost you exactly ZERO dollars!” “ZERO DOLLARS!? Sign me up!” “Ok just go ahead and slice your fingertip with this knife and stamp it on this piece of paper here, and initials down here.” With some hesitation I stamp and initial the document, of course without reading it. “Done is done!” he exclaims “Don’t worry about the IRS or SEC my friend, just fulfill the contract and all will be well.” “How do I fulfill this contract exactly?” “Its easy! Just burn your most prized possession!” “No, not my Aston Martin!” “Yes! Burn it! And do so quickly” and with that he back hands me so hard that I wake up in a daze in my bed back home.
The mark on my face with six fingers imprinted on it proves this was no dream, a look out my window shows a foreboding storm. Then I hear a sound, like the majestic roar of the V12 engine in my Aston Martin, or maybe thunder? Not taking a chance that it’s the repo man I grab my pistol from under the bed in an adrenaline and rage cocktail. I kick open the garage door and see only a haze in front of me, but I see movement around my Aston. With no hesitation I let go four shots, all but one hit their target. I rush over to secure the supposed Aston thief and who do I find but Susan, my wife.
No pulse, no life, only sounds of approaching sirens. I have no thoughts, and sit against the garage door, gun in hand until police arrive. Convicted of murder and every imaginable financial crime, plus some new ones apparently I created, I fear the unfulfilled contract with the Devil more than my jail time. Stewing for the rest of my life as to what awaits me in Hell.
I'll just copy-paste my response below (with some additional commentary I'd have given in class) -
ReplyDeleteWhile this piece contained an interesting narrative, I found myself wishing that the narrator would have slowed down and taken a second to explain what was going on in what appeared to be a dream sequence turned not-so-dream-sequence. There was nothing wrong with the structure of the piece, itself, aside from the fact that it lacked a clearer explanation of its core concept (which was briefly detailed in the opening paragraph, but not given any in-depth attention before the narrative began).
One way to strengthen the piece would be to take that step back and take a moment to explain what is going on in the proposed scenario (a little backstory would be nice…) and, especially, how it relates back to the author’s argument. The most important clarifying edits to make would be to break up the lines where each line of dialogue is being spoken by a different person; with every line in one large block, with no tags, it was a bit difficult to read.
The last two paragraphs moved especially quickly, and the final line of the piece left me with more questions than answers. I don’t doubt that the author could incorporate some sort of moral or argument into the prose, but as-is, the argument itself is difficult to find.
So! Basically, I see that things are going on here, and this is good, it just needs a little something more to help tie it all together. I understand that things are going on in the story presented that have a connection to the theme (and I'll be real, I'll never not encourage fun prose as a means of strengthening an argument or at the very least making it more entertaining), but I also want to know more about them and how they relate back to the argument.
That's about all I have to say, but hopefully it was enough.
(Oh, and this is Elaina H. posting; for some reason Blogger seems to have auto-integrated itself with my Google account, but maybe that's not surprising.)