Skip to main content

Dear Enron Employees

Especially you, Matthew L*nh*rt...

Actually, I'm picking on Matthew (Matt? do they call you Matt?) because I've seen some of his emails; there are others for whom this message is equally suited but whose emails I've not yet read.

Dude, stop sending your f*cking personal emails from your work account. Really. If you worked for me I'd fire your *ss because you're too stupid to work at Enron. Let alone the amount of company time you piss away on personal emails. Gad, they're not even quality stuff, no conversations with friends about quantum physics or politics, just shallow fluffy stuff like pre- or post-vacation chatter.

Shocked that somebody you don't even know read your emails? You shouldn't be. Remember back in 2001, that little thing that happened with your firm? The implosion after all the high mucky-mucks little book-cooking scheme fell apart? Yeah, that little thing.

Well, the Feds did this other thing during the early phase of prosecution after Enron kind of fell apart, called "discovery", where they went and gathered a bunch of documents from Enron under a permission slip called a subpoena, to show how bad those so-called "smartest guys in the room" really were.

This included electronic documents -- like email.

Your email, specifically. Including your dopey jokes about pr0n and your feelings about spas, massages and the Caymans.

Because the Feds got them as part of the document production process in a criminal suit, your emails are now public record.

Your grandkids can now see what kind of a slacker you were at the office.

Dude. Really.

If I were you, I'd stop spending money on trips to the Caymans and start saving just in case you are unemployed some time in the near future.

I hear the energy sector is a good place to invest those savings. Am I right?

Sincerely,

~Rayne

p.s. Umm, your friends at Eli Lilly, Citicorp and Deloitte, for starters, shouldn't answer you from those domains, either, unless it's purely about business. I sure hope you've got friends who are smarter than you.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Veep in deep

The Veep "accidentally" shoots a fellow hunter. From here on there is absolutely nothing good about this story. It stinks like curdled milk and three-day-old fish on a summer's day in Dallas. How do we even begin to count the ways in which this reeks? The 22-hour gap: WTF? There's absolutely no excuse for this, we can all agree on this point. But why? Was a key person in this story under the influence of a substance that would take a day to clear? Were they trying to get their stories straight? Heck, could they not come up with a story? Or was the victim not in the clear for that long? The "group" of hunters: Why did it take even longer than the 22-hour gap to identify the third hunter? Why is the media repeatedly using the word "group" to describe two people (Dick Cheney and Pamela Willemore)? The composition of the party: A divorcee ranch owner. An older man who does not appear to be married at this time. A woman sans spouse....

Tinkering in progress

Nuts. I tried to post a rather long piece yesterday, attempting to create an expandable post so that only a lead-in appears on the main blog and the body is expanded only on selection of a link. I'm tripping over the auto-formatting that Blogger inserts into posts; it insists on embedding a begin-font tag all over the place, but no closing font tag. It's driving me nuts! I guess I'll have to try using a post template so that the text on all posts is the same unless indicated otherwise, to try and override the default fonting. Bear with me; you might see what looks like an old post appear between here and the previous post. But enough about me -- how are you?

Meditations on B-School debris...

My body had just reached that state one notch above sleep last night; I was relaxed and warm under the comforter and my husband's arm, when my mind slapped me awake. Christ, they have completely abandoned everything we've been taught in business school. I bolted upright, startling my equally drowsy spouse, and began to scrabble for a pen and paper. I didn't want to blow this off as a dream. I scrawled a note in scant light, reminding myself that this was a nightmare and not a dream. Everything I've been taught they've thrown out the door. They, being this presidential administration. Everything, being the basics we are taught in our earliest days of business school. My mind must have continued to churn after last evening's Book Salon at FireDogLake; Crooked Timber's Henry Farrell and author Jacob Hacker dropped in to chat about Hacker's book, The Great Risk Shift . I've not yet read it, it's on my list (I'm afraid that I'm still b...