Banking Bonuses and the I’m A Celebrity Cream Tea Mutiny

December 4, 2009

Cream Tea by mpieracci

You couldn’t make it up. But we did (sort of, with this post). Now, though, with immaculate timing given that the Banker Awards 2009 have just been published, we learn of massive bonuses at Lloyds and the threatened resignation of the RBS board unless bonuses were paid. Executives at Lloyds and RBS are convinced of the divinity of their mission. Not for them obeisance to the court of public opinion, still less the strategems and ruses of PR apparatchiks eager to revive a modicum of faith in the banking sector. And you know what? Their tactics will work. Their Christmases will be enriched by more than a mere kiss under the mistletoe. But why? The secret, dear readers, lies in popular TV. We bring you an exclusive transcript of the moment banking’s main men devised their masterplan.

The Scene: A penthouse suite in a sumptuous hotel overlooking the Thames. Gathered within, sipping champagne as they prepare for an awards ceremony, are sundry senior bankers from Lloyds and RBS.

RBS Senior Banker No. 1: I hate these moments of expectation. It’s the waiting that does my head in. I mean, couldn’t they just tell us if we’ve won an award or not? Then if we haven’t we could get all get blotto without having to worry about making dodgy comments to the media.

RBS Senior Banker No. 2: I agree. It’s like a jungle in here. Pass the champagne, will you?

Lloyds Supremo No. 3: I think we’re getting the prizes this year. We lost fewer jobs than you. And our small print was smaller. Shall we watch the television?

RBS Senior Banker No. 1: I fear you’re right. You lot will scoop everything. Damn it, let’s see what’s on and have another drink.

A junior person scuttles forth and turns on the television. The assembled throng find themselves watching one of the Iceland ads which precedes ITV’s I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here.

Lloyds Supremo No. 2: That food looks good. Tasteful ad, too.

RBS Senior Banker No. 2: Yes, not bad, is it? Is that Jason Donovan?

But before debate can be engaged I’m A Celebrity is before them. The throng apprehend that a serious controversy is unveiling – none other than the now legendary Cream Tea Mutiny.

Gino d’Acampo (for it is he): I have the power. Give me five tea and scones or I take my microphone off. I won’t play anymore and I’ll convince the others not to. You know I have the power to do that.

Seconds later.

Kim Woodburn (for it is she): Now look, luvvies, I’m taking this microphone off if I don’t have tea with my scone. You wouldn’t go to a hotel and have three teas and scones for a party of five, now would you? It’s humiliating! I won’t play anymore unless I get my way.

Announcer: But you’re not in a hotel. You’re in a jungle.

All Celebs: Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. We’re not playing. Give us our tea! Give us our scones! Or WE’RE NOT PLAYING!

An ad break arrives. As the throng salivate over Icleand’s delicacies, their PRs huddle in a corner. Allowing due time for Iceland’s ad to finish – for to interrupt it would be to cause consternation among their already overwrought superiors – suddenly they leap up and stand in front of the TV.

RBS PR Exec: What they’re doing is brilliant.

Lloyds PR Exec: I agree. It’s world class.

RBS PR Exec: You see, they’re calling their paymasters’ bluff.

Lloyds PR Exec: It’s a rarely seen tactic but you can find it in textbooks about ‘Extreme PR Moves in Jungles’ by Ms K. Price. It’s the authority in this area and leads inexorably to cash bonanzas.

An Iceland ad presaging the return of I’m A Celebrity is on. Obviously, the throng is distracted, but how much more so when, as they watch the series proper, they realise that D’Acampo, Woodburn, White et al (who were the other two? Ed.) have prevailed!

RBS Senior Banker No. 1: Genius. Are you saying that we should tell the government we’re not going to play any more?

RBS PR Exec: Not in so many words. Just say: “We will resign unless we get our bonuses.”

Lloyds Supremo No. 1: Masterly. Masterful. A masterplan. We will covertly indicate that we will do likewise if there’s even a hint of governmental disequilibrium about our much deserved annual enrichment.

A pleasing sense of tranquillity settles over the room. The throng nestles, as one, in a large sofa. They are bankers, united, staring at the remaining cast of I’m A Celebrity (who were they? Ed.), dreaming of all the Iceland products their brilliant plan will buy. As it always does, an intermission brings another Iceland break.

All: Tea and scones! We love ‘em!

Exuent all for an awards ceremony.

Image courtesy of Flickr user mpieraaci.

 

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Seven of the Best Alternative Professionals

August 30, 2010

Susan Casey’s new book, The Wave, is soon to be published. It brilliantly illumines the world of professional big wave surfing, at the same time as exploring the phenomenon of rogue waves (specifically, those which top 100ft).

Suitably inspired, we thought we’d take a look at a different kind of professionalism than is usually to be found on these pages. Those featured in our magnificent seven of alternative professionals may not wear suits for a living, still less spend their time in the boardroom, but they couldn’t do what they do if they weren’t every bit as dedicated, focused, driven and downright professional as those at the helm of a City law firm, finance house or PR company.

1. Laird Hamilton

Hamilton is the star of The Wave, and no wonder. Based on the Hawaiian island of Kauai, the man is a force of nature, a 6″3′ powerhouse who makes big wave surfing look like a walk in the park. But it isn’t. The wave known as Teahupoo, surfed by Hamilton in Tim McKenna’s picture below, is a killer. Only years of focus, training and preparation make Hamilton able to ride this wave with such aplomb.

2. Danny Way

Warning: do not watch this footage if you are afraid of heights (and squeamish). American skateboarding star Danny Way has been rebuilt more times than the bionic man. He’s also made a small fortune from a sport so often wrongly derided as ‘for kids’. Definitely not one for a suit and tie, Way nevertheless deserves respect – as much as he would appear to need a permanent personal medical staff.

3. Shane McConkey

Professional skier Shane McConkey died in March 2009 while skiing in the Dolomite Mountains in Italy. His death robbed the world of extreme sports of an athlete known for combining BASE jumping with skiing, as seen in such feats as skiing into a BASE jump off the Eiger. RIP.

4. Shaun White

There are those who say that White, snowboarder extraordinaire, has the kind of hair that is inimical to success. We say, like Forbes magazine, that if White earned $9 million from his endorsements in 2008 alone, what’s he worth now? We also say: don’t try what White does at home. Or anywhere, really.

5. DannyMacaskill

If BMX riding is jejune, does it matter? Not to Macaskill, a man who’s worth a lot of money thanks to his remarkable ability on a bike.

6. Lynn Hill

There are rock climbers, and there’s Detroit-born Lynn Hill, the woman who made the first free ascent of the infamous Nose Route on El Capitan in Yosemite Valley. Currently sponsored by the Patagonia gear and clothing company, Hill has done it all, taking phenomenal risks in the pursuit of her calling. Take a look at the intensity of her gaze: this woman would have been a genius at whatever she’d chosen to do.

7. Dallas Friday

She has the best name of any sportsperson, ever. She also looks pretty good, too, and is even better at her chosen discipline, wakeboarding. And discipline is the name of the game: as with everyone here, however outre their worlds, however extreme their sports, if they weren’t disciplined they’d not only be impoverished but also, quite possibly, dead. Respect.

Hats off to the News of the World

August 30, 2010

Fantastic sting by the News of the World, whose legendary undercover reporter, Mazher Mahmood, has pierced the heart of some disgraceful match-fixing in professional cricket. Hats off, yet again, to Mahmood, but, strangely, we feel slightly sorry for him. Will he ever be able to retire into the sun and live a normal life? Somehow we rather doubt it.

Pictured: something which is decidedly not cricket.

Judge Dread, truly dread

August 24, 2010

An Englishman’s home is his castle. This ancient tenet of English society means that when a burglar breaks into an Englishman’s home (or castle), the homeowner, or feudal Lord, is entitled to defy him. The tools of defiance are many and varied but include diplomacy (“isn’t it past your bedtime?”), wheedling (“please, my good fellow, won’t you go away?”), lies (“see that castle across the street? It’s full of gold bullion”) and weaponry (“is that a nuclear missile in my pocket, and why aren’t you terrified to see me?”).

This last, however, causes problems. When a homeowner, eager to defend his castle, shoots a burglar, all hell breaks loose. Tabloid hacks break out in sweats as they find themselves compelled to blame European laws and the politically correct for daring to wonder whether such force was necessary when, really, all that is in issue is whether shooting dead an intruder was proportionate to the perceived threat and context.

In the US, this question was recently answered in the affirmative by the excellently named Judge Carlisle Overstreet. The 65-year-old judge shot and killed an unarmed bandana-wearing burglar after the man broke into his home and started coming upstairs. According to the estimable Legal Blog Watch, the dead burglar, John Howard Jr. (who, says the Augusta Chronicle, delighted in the nickname ‘Killa’), was one of two men who broke into the judge’s house in the early hours of the morning. The other, William Omar Jacobs, turned himself in and was denied bail.

This sorry or inspirational tale begs a question. If it had happened here, would it be the first time in recorded history that a judge had killed a burglar? In fact, is this unprecedented across the pond, too? And more to the point, if anyone says the judge acted disproportionately and that he really shouldn’t be canonized, are they politically correct stooges from a morally abased, utterly bankrupt European superstate (or something like that: we confess that tabloidese eludes us)?

Pictured: a judge says “Clint Eastwood isn’t the only one who likes large handguns.” But note: she’s not Carlisle Overstreet.