Billionaire Birthday Bash #6: An Open Letter to One of Mr. Friess' Assistants

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This is just one of several posts about my current conflict with vengeful billionaire hypocrite Foster Friess.  For an overview of the situation and chronology of posts go here...

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Dear Mr. ********* (One of Foster Friess' Assistants):

If you want to talk, please send me an email.  I don't like the phone.  I prefer less vaporous forms of communication so I know exactly where things stand.  My address is maxmogren@yahoo.com.

I have no personal problem with you.  I don't know you.  I see you as another guy like myself but doing your job as a representative of Foster Friess.

I'll tell you my personal gripe with FF, so you know exactly where I'm coming from.  Hopefully we can work to resolve this conflict.

I find it unethical and offensive when a powerful man attempts to cut off a working person's livelihood because they spoke their mind.  Your Boss did this to me.  I know FF didn't do the dirty work personally in pressuring both my employers to terminate me, but member(s) of his staff certainly did.  There is no doubt about that.

I find it shockingly offensive that FF's staff tried to pressure an employer who was in no way associated with the situation.  That direct and completely unjustifiable attack at my livelihood made things very personal for me.  Fortunately, only one of my employers buckled to FF's pressures.


The internet is full of criticism of public figures, so FF shouldn't feel entitled to squashing it.  That, Sir, is Un-American.

If FF has a problem with me and my opinions, it would serve his interests to deal with the situation in an up front manner instead of attempting to intimidate and bully me through underhanded attacks at my basic needs.

Tactics like that go completely against the public persona he wishes to convey.  They also fuel my discontentment, and leave me with only two options:

1) Submit and retract my opinions.

or

2) Keep coming up with creative ways to express my criticism of FF's ideology, hypocrisy, and personal attack on me.

I couldn't live with option 1, and it would take a bullet to stop me from embracing option 2. Frankly, I would prefer a situation with more options.

If FF acknowledged my right to Free Speech and apologized for attacking my livelihood, I would certainly pardon him for the personal offense.  That would take a lot of this fire out of my belly.

My original problem with FF was a lot less personal than this has become.  For the sake of clarity, I will explain my opinions that got me blogging about FF in the first place.

Foster Friess' outrageously expensive, four day long, 70th birthday celebration seemed grossly inappropriate to me at a time when most Americans are struggling to get by.  This disparity disgusted me, as did the conduct of some of his guests, so I wrote about it.

To a poor person like myself, the whole event reeked of hypocrisy because Mr. Friess had put together an elaborate (and expensive) four day celebration to showcase, his own generosity.

He capped off the celebration with a showy flourish by giving each party guest $70,000 to contribute to the charity of their choice.  At first glance this seems like a lot of money, but by my calculations the total amount donated comes to less than 1% of FF's considerable wealth.

To me, it looks more like a tax write-off than a sincere charitable event.  To me,  it looks more like a PR maneuver than a heartfelt attempt to make a positive difference in these exceptionally troubled times.  To me, it looks like FF's excuse to bring the good ol' boys together to plan their next global power play.

In my opinion, true philanthropists give a significant portion of their wealth to charity, and the most exemplary ones do so anonymously or at least with a minimal amount of showmanship.    A good example is once "Richest-Man-In-The World" Warren Buffett who has pledged 99% of his wealth to charity and, along with Bill and Melinda Gates, has started an initiative urging all American billionaires to commit at least 50% of their fortunes to the needs of this planet and it's people.

I urge you to read the story just linked to before continuing further.  Afterward, I'm sure you'll agree that Mr. Friess could learn a lot about true philanthropy from Mr. Buffett's example.


After studying FF's online personality, I find what I take to be a lot of partisan misinformation and fundamentalist quackery that he expects readers to swallow.  He washes it all down for them by promoting himself as a generous, caring, maverick defender of freedom.  I see through this facade and am calling him out on it because I think it is the right thing to do.

In my opinion, people like your Boss are flushing not only our Nation but the entire planet right down the crapper.  I, for one, am sick of it.


Sincerely,

Max Mogren

Billionaire Birthday Bash #5: First Round of Fallout

 vs 

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This is just one of several posts about my current conflict with vengeful billionaire hypocrite Foster Friess.  For an overview of the situation and chronology of posts go here...

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Last night I got fired from my Bellman gig for writing about my experiences working at and opinions of Foster Friess' 70th Birthday Party.  I didn't have a chance to defend myself, my claims or my rights.  I just got canned over the phone.

Team Friess has also contacted my other employer and is putting pressure on them to fire me as well.  This seems exceptionally unethical as that job has absolutely nothing to do with the situation.

He's threatening my livelihood in an attempt to intimidate me.  He wants these posts down, and he's going against his declared ideals to shut me up.

I was also informed - not by Friess but rather a friend - that unless I remove the postings and apologize for my opinions, I'll be sued for everything I'm worth and blacklisted by most major employers in Jackson Hole.  Mr. Friess has obviously got financial sway in this valley, and a Billionaire's legal team can make mountains out of molehills, so I've got no doubt of Foster's ability to cause me oodles of trouble.

I face all this though I did nothing illegal or immoral.  Bellmen don't sign a confidentiality agreement.  We'd need to get paid a lot more than $8.50 an hour to voluntarily turn off our eyes, ears, hearts, and voices.

Near as I can tell, the only thing I said that could possibly be construed as slanderous is a caption under a picture of Friess that says "This cowboy fucks sheep.  You, dear reader, and I are unfortunately part of the flock."

The ironic thing is that Foster just fucked me by getting me fired, so I've got pretty compelling evidence the caption - though crude - rings true and is therefore legit.

Another irony is that Foster took out a full page ad in yesterday's Jackson Hole News and Guide to throw a twisted spin on a recent story by Todd Wilkinson called "Friess Implies Obama Welcomes Oil Disaster".  If this doesn't further establish him as a willful public figure open to criticism, I don't know what possibly could.  Thus the libel laws grow looser.

Yet another irony comes near the end of yesterday's "Open Letter to Todd Wilkinson" where Friess writes:

 "... let's you and I pledge to work together to see what we can accomplish for the good of those people who need help right now, particularly those without jobs."

The irony is that on the day he published those words Friess was actually conspiring to get a poor person fired from not one but two jobs.  And for what?

For speaking his mind in his small section of cyberspace.

For exercising his right to Free Speech.

For doing his Patriotic Duty by exposing the hypocrisy and wastefulness of some of the wealthiest, most-powerful, and two-faced Americans.  Let me explain...

The true "Judeo-Christian ethic undergirding our culture"  has deep roots in forgiveness and understanding.  More than by means of financial, political, or military power, the success of our culture is due to our ability to live and work together despite our differences.  It's the whole "melting pot" thing.  Remember?

From small service industry jobs where folks of many races and languages work side by side to the momentous meetings of international businessmen, our collective ability to let bygones be bygones is one hell of an asset.

If our Nation's strategy was to wage war on anyone who criticized or contradicted our prevailing ideology, we'd have suffered the Nazi's fate long ago: utter defeat and a place in the history books as the World's Greatest Assholes.

Right now, I'm having a war waged on me for documenting an honest experience and offering my opinions.  I have had my livelihood partially cut off and am being intimidated with additional threats.

My intent in writing what I did was raising awareness, ideally in the hearts and minds of those about whom I wrote.

I'll let you decide for yourself what Foster Friess' intentions are in dealing with me.

And now, the Lyric of the Day!  Here in America - thanks to the aforementioned diversity - we've got a song for just about any occasion.  Facing the threats before me, I'm embracing the wisdom of Muddy Waters:

You can't spend what you ain't got

You can't lose something you ain't never had.

Peace.

Billonaire Birthday Bash #4: An intriguing Visit

PERDONELOS, DIOS. NO SABEN LO QUE HACEN.

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This is just one of several posts about my current conflict with vengeful billionaire hypocrite Foster Friess.  For an overview of the situation and chronology of posts go here...

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Tonight while minding my business I had a visit from a very peculiar young couple.  According to their military ID's they're both 22, but their mannerisms made them seem a lot older and wiser.  Perhaps it's just my paranoia, but they seemed to know a lot about me and tried to steer a forced conversation in unusual directions.  I couldn't help but smile and laugh as my gut told me I was getting cased.  Then, abruptly, they made their exit.

If my recent criticisms of powerful hypocrites and flaws in our American Culture have triggered a red flag somewhere in the halls of power, let me be clear on my intentions.  Then, there'll be no need to waste tax dollars keeping an eye on me.  I am not a threat to anyone's security but my own.

One way to win a resource war is to annihilate your competition.  A more reasonable way is to eliminate your need for the resource in question.  In our case, to leave the oil age in the scrap heap of discarded history.  To leave the brunt of humanity looking like suckers as We, the American People, usher in a new age and a new awareness.  A true "TEA PARTY"... "TEA" meaning, of course, TOTAL ENVIRONMENTAL AWARENESS.

Now, perhaps it's a lost cause, but if the American people figured out a way to live productive and meaningful lives while utilizing a small fraction of the oil we currently waste, we'd all be better for it.  Thus, I'm preaching OILFREEFUN and feel compelled to call people out on their wasteful and hypocritical behavior... even if they are some of the richest and most powerful folks in the country... especially if they are some of the richest and most powerful folks in the country.

If anyone, they should know better.

If anyone, they can afford to conserve, at least in their personal lives.

My hope is that instead of living opulent lives and throwing themselves ridiculously wasteful birthday parties, the billionaires of the world can lead by example and thus help shift our culture so "keeping up with the Joneses" no longer means matching their CONSUMERISM but rather mimicking their ENVIRONMENTAL AWARENESS and SUSTAINABLE LIFESTYLE.

We've got an endless war on for oil.

We've got oil spills wreaking havoc around the world.

We use more oil than any other country, and, as China, India, and the rest of the developing world mimicks our consumerism, global demand is out-pacing supply.  If anything makes WWIII get out of hand, it will doubtless be energy issues.

Isn't it about time we made a real attempt to rein in our oil consumption?  It's a matter of national security, and I'm fighting for that.  It's a matter of improving our global image and influence.  I'm fighting for that too.

Crusty Old Bible-Thumping Billionaires are a thing of the past.  Not quite yet, but soon.  Which brings us to the lyric of the day, inspired by my visit from tonight's young Americans.

Paranoia strikes deep.

Into your mind it will creep.

It starts when you're always afraid.

Step out of line, the Man come and take you away.

That old live shit is classic... too bad it isn't the whole song.  Don't let em' get to you either.  Here's the full song as interpreted by one younger than I.  Not too polished, but let's hope he keeps at it.

Personally... as they know... we're screwed.

Billionaire Birthday Bash #3: Helpless but Hopeful

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This is just one of several posts about my current conflict with vengeful billionaire hypocrite Foster Friess.  For an overview of the situation and chronology of posts go here...

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 Man,I'm getting tired of thinking about these people.  So much the better if they just didn't exist.  But they do.  And they're all over the place.

I caught a glimpse of the birthday boy himself this afternoon when he personally dropped off former Pennsylvania Senator Rick Santorum.  This D-Bag became rather famous a few years back for overt homophobia.  Judging by the clubs, it looked like they'd been playing golf.  Hopefully they had an attentive caddy.

The birthday boy is a "self-made" billionaire, wanna-be cowboy named Foster Friess.  He gives a lot of money to charity but keeps much, much more for himself.  He's one of the greatest donors to the shadier branches of the Rebublican Family Tree.  He thumps the Bible to pieces, but puts a mere fraction of his money where his mouth is.  When you have enough money to fund several thousand lifetimes, donating millions is the equivalent to you or I throwing a dollar into a group of starving bums... and letting them sort it out.

After earning billions in the stock market over the course of decades, this guy sold all his personal shares a mere two weeks before 9/11.  That, my friends, is pretty impressive timing.  Perhaps he was just tired of making money off other people's work, but I suspect he knew something disastrous was coming.

In my opinion, this "Cowboy" fucks sheep in the name of the Good Shepard.  You, dear reader, and I are unfortunately part of the flock.

Fortunately, the Big Buckaroo wasn't around long, and the rest of his posse rolled out shortly thereafter for an evening of fine dining.  While the brunt of us eat ramen and scrambled eggs, these folks suck down truffles, caviar, and other obscenely costly goodies.

In their absence, I had time to devote to more meaningful and worthwhile clients.


I met a writer and photographer for The Surfer's Journal who just wrote a great story on quality - but now polluted - waves in the Gulf.


I drove around a few families who couldn't get enough of my stories and tipped accordingly.  One family, a young Midwestern couple with three boys, was even so kind as to buy me a drink at Dairy Queen.  They invited me over to tell a bedtime story and surprised me with a MooLatte and a crisp 10 dollar bill.


When he handed it to me, one of those good young boys said "Thank you for making our vacation great."

Seeing that family got me reminiscing on my own Midwestern childhood, and I turned into Mr. Misty: all smiley and sweet with the knowledge that life truly is good and way too short to spend making someone else richer. Especially if they don't appreciate it.

Can me, please.  I can't justify quitting cuz, though a few years off, my next boat is in sight.  But every time I hop behind the wheel the hypocrisy tangs through my soul.  Piloting a gas-guzzling Escalade in the service of folks who need a kick in the ass more than anything else. 


At least I'm learning how some of the biggest hypocrites deal with their contradictions.  I'm also meeting good people that remind me what true Americans are really like: generally good with their priorities in FAMILY, FRIENDS, ADVENTURE, and SECURITY. Really, the only fault many of us suffer is naivety.


And regardless of our collective clusterfucking, I found myself smiling to one of the sweetest songs I know.  Which brings us to today's lyric:

So all those old friends, God be with them

I wish, I wish I could see you again

In the same corner bar where it all started from

dig your plow so deep, now the stars have all gone

So wherever they shine may it be warm and bright

Out to ease my mind on this worried night

It all seems so simple, the good tidings I send

I'll never forget that one year that we spent...

-G Love, When We Meet Again

You may be wondering why there is a picture of a guy skimboarding throughout this song.  I don't know why either: it's not my video.  I'm just borrowing it from YouTube.  It's probably because the video's creator has positive memories associated with both skimboarding and this excellent old song by G Love.   Logically, it works for him.


Skimboarding: a much more positive activity than, say, WATERBOARDING.  Fuckers.

Billionaire Birthday Bash #2: Fishing for Change

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This is just one of several posts about my current conflict with vengeful billionaire hypocrite Foster Friess.  For an overview of the situation and chronology of posts go here...

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Six thirty a.m. came too quickly, and I was back in the mix at work.  Chaos reigned in the lobby as birthday guests prepared for a half-day of riding horses, fly fishing, or golfing.  Countless questions and complaints were dealt with as these needy old gringos overcomplicated the act of appreciating a comped vacation.  Despite themselves, the other Bellman and I got everyone loaded on the proper shuttles and sent on their way.  Service with a groggy smile but no tips rewarded.

Many of the guests weren't feeling too adventurous so they opted to go shopping instead.  I drove a half dozen shuttles of birthday guests around town and earned $2 in total tips.  Pathetic.

Giving them the benefit of the doubt, I came to assume they must have been discouraged from tipping as this is the only way I could fathom their almost complete disregard of gratuity.  I heard that ten years ago when Mr.Friess threw his 60th birthday bash, he personally bestowed lavish tips on the "help".  Maybe that's the plan at 70 as well.

When someone's got that much power over you, one can only hope.

This guy, Tucker Carlson, is apparently a conservative political pundit on Fox News.  He's staying at the hotel and has been fishing Flat Creek even though it's illegal for anyone over the age of 14.  Several staff members informed him of the law, but apparently he doesn't care.  If I catch him fishing again, I'll make a discrete call to Jackson's Finest.  We take our fish and game seriously out here.

In the afternoon, flustered at the lack of cash flow, I contemplated a different tactic en route to the airport.  My mission was to pick up an older Yale and Harvard educated MD whose father was a pioneering investor that pocketed billions over the years.  He then renounced his citizenship and moved to the Bahamas to avoid taxation.  Some American.


His father's philosophy?  "Buy when there's blood in the streets."


My plan was to strike up a conversation, steer it towards global warming, and spew the pseudo-scientific rhetoric of the ignorant disbeliever.  Before too long we were having a good hee-haw at Mother Nature's expense and getting along fabulously.  After picking him up, checking him in, and having his tuxedo pressed, Doctor Dipshit gratted me $15,  two chocolate covered strawberries, and a hearty handshake.  Hmmm... it worked!

One thing that I'm noticing in my dealings with the extremely conservative and wealthy is a unanimous belief that their financial successes arose from their own faith and dedication to hard work.  As I poke around their online personalities and glance at the books they're reading, those themes jump out: FAITH and HARD WORK.

Unfortunately, their true faith is in a short-sighted economic model that resource scarcity is rendering obsolete.  We only have one planet, and if everyone strove to succeed as they have, it'd be completely trashed already.  It's only mostly trashed at present.

Also unfortunate, they somehow think buying and selling shit constitutes hard work.  They think playing the market for personal profit somehow contributes to the greater good.  They think GREED is GOOD.  They are mistaken and their Christianity is hypocritical.  After all...

"The Devil can quote scripture for his own purpose."

                                         -Bill Shakespeare

In dealing with a whole crew of walking contradictions, it's no wonder I'm encountering very little actual sense.  No matter how many charitable foundations (aka tax shelters) they've sunk billions into, they're just a bunch of WAR PIGS to me.  And I see right through them just like Ozzy did 40 years ago.


This song's for all the Billionaire Buttfuckers out there... let it serve as a reminder what awaits at those Pearly, Pearly Gates.


For maximum reality, crank the volume.

Lyric of the Day:

Generals gathered in their masses
Just like witches at black masses

Evil minds that plot destruction

Sorcerer of death's construction

In the fields the bodies burning

As the war machine keeps turning

Death and hatred to mankind

Poisoning their brainwashed minds, oh lord yeah!

Politicians hide themselves away

They only started the war

Why should they go out to fight?

They leave that to the poor

Yeah!

Time will tell they are power minds

Making war just for fun

Treating people just like pawns in chess

Wait 'till their judgement day comes

Yeah!

(Bridge)

Now in darkness, world stops turning

Ashes where the bodies burning

No more war pigs have the power

Hand of God has struck the hour

Day of judgement, God is calling

On their knees, the war pigs crawling

Begging mercies for their sins

Satan laughing, spreads his wings

OH LORD YEAH!

Billionaire Birthday Bash #1: Checking In.

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This is just one of several posts about my current conflict with vengeful billionaire hypocrite Foster Friess.  For an overview of the situation and chronology of posts go here...

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In the midst of "the greatest recession since the Great Depression" some folks are suffering more than others.  Some aren't suffering at all.  I know.

I'm personally witnessing a bible-thumping billionaire's multi-million dollar 70th birthday party from the front lines.  In an effort to stay financially afloat, I'm serving these folks and witnessing their clueless and contradictory excesses from a servant's stance.

The Jesus-worshiping birthday boy, who made his billions fiddling around in the stock market, flew in a few hundred of his best friends for a long weekend of shootin' the bull.  Having spared no expense, he's payed for plane tickets, hotel rooms, activity-filled days, and lavish parties by night.  Granted, they're probably pretty lame parties, but parties nevertheless.

I was pretty excited when I heard this crew was coming in, as I hoped to earn decent gratuity in my role as Bellman at a hotel where many of the guests are staying.  Conservatives all, several of them are quite famous and politically powerful.  All of them are obviously quite wealthy.

Today, as I headed for the airport to pick up eight couples flying in simultaneously, I felt confident that by courteously serving them they would acknowledge my assistance and reward me with the customary tip.  After all, these were successful, sophisticated, Christian Americans, no doubt aware that GRATUITY is as fundamental a concept here in America as, say, FREE ENTERPRISE.

Millionaires all, and on a comped vacation, they would no doubt throw a few greenbacks to the friendly, helpful Bellman.  Right?! Wrong.

After devoting an hour and a half to herding 16 millionaires from airport terminal to hotel room, lugging their luggage, answering their questions, sharing my stories, and doing it all with a smile, I had a total of three dollars to show for it.  All $3 came from one guy who acted as if he was handing me the world.

The other bellman I was working with pocketed $5 so our grand total came to eight dollars: exactly fifty cents per person for a shuttle from the airport, luggage service, check-in service, and countless questions answered.

The typical tourist throws us between two and five for a check in, at least ten for a complimentary ride from the airport.  If these party-goers were anything like the average Joe, we'd have pocketed at least $40-50 each.  My buddy made $5.  I made $3.

Now, I'm not complaining for my own sake, just sharing the story because it calls to question their understanding of Christian ideals as well as their personal stances on the "trickle down economics" we peons are supposed to place our hope in.  If this breed of wealthy can't even acknowledge and reward good service when it's lugging their golf clubs, how can they be trusted to govern our collective financial futures?  Clearly they can't.

As a guy who went to Catholic school from K through College, I've got the true Christian ideals pretty well figured out, so I know them when I see them.  Working as a Nurse's Assistant in the Retirement Home of a Monastery where both convicted child molesters and legitimate Saints were spending their autumn years, I wiped two kinds of asses: those of DELUSIONAL HYPOCRITES and those of TRUE BELIEVERS.

Jesus (whoever he really was) exemplified a mentality and lifestyle of perpetual giving.  Even two thousand years later, no one can take that away from him. When I meet a truly selfless individual I can sense it.  The generosity and kindness exudes off of them.  They practically have an aura.

In my own eyes, none of the folks I dealt with today seemed remotely wise or in the least bit generous.  They came off as a bunch of shallow, twisted goons: a cackle of back-stabbing, two-faced, teacher's pets who've taken these childish habits into adulthood.

The GREED and TRICKERY of Big Finance compounded with the CORPORATE COCKSUCKING of the Bush Administration caused our current recession, which has millions of hard-working Americans stuck below the poverty level.  Meanwhile, the very people who got us into this mess are living higher on the hog than ever before.  I see it.

This weekend I get to witness some real characters firsthand, and I'm paying very close attention... hopeless as they make me feel.

Here's the lyric of the day, from none other than a fellow Minnesotan, Bobby Dylan.  Please listen.

Though it's old news, Obama should take the Bush Administrations' asses to court: for stealing an election, conspiring in the greatest American tragedy, lying to the American people countless times, and bankrupting the Treasury to fund their own interests.

The Republican Party, and especially the Ultra-Conservative "Christians" squatting farthest wrong, needs the piss kicked out of it until they join us here in the 21st Century.  Hypocritical Christianity and Free For All Economics aren't gonna get us through the converging catastrophes America (and humanity) now faces... at least not with any semblance of order.

But hey, the Billionaires will stumble through, perhaps suffering the occasional temporary shortage of cavair.  Meanwhile, the rest of us will continue getting fucked over until suffering repeated thrashings takes us out of existence.

They're just words but mark em'.  I wish it was otherwise, but it feels like the case.

It sucks. I know.

C'est la vie.  Bienvenidos a Los Estados Unidos.