Sunday 16th January
The Peters’ Principle: Rising to a level of respective incompetence.
Do you remember Martin Shkreli the nasty 38 year old owner of ‘Retrophin’, a humungous drug firm. He was, for a time, the poster boy for unfettered capitalism. In September 2015, Shkreli bought the manufacturing license for the anti parasitic drug ‘Daraprim’. OVERNIGHT this young `Hunter College’ graduate raised the price of the AIDS drug from $13.50 to $750 per pill – and I repeat – OVER NIGHT. A couple of years later the greedy little bastard ‘was charged and convicted in federal court on two counts of securities fraud and one count of conspiring to commit securities fraud’.
He was sentenced to seven years in federal prison, barred from the industry for life and fined $7.4m. In a civil case he was fined a further $64.6 million to be given to victims nationwide. Well, joy of joys, this morning the ‘Jailed Pharma Boy’ has been ordered to repay his profits of $64m.
He violated laws against monopolies – in my book he violated laws against humanity – he blocked competitors and smirked his way to incarceration until 2023.
So now, albeit a little slow and feint, there is a tiny glimpse of change. The establishment is hearing the little people’s gasps of horror and, albeit a little arthritically, are moving
This morning it has been reported that the Number One Serbian raqueteer has been chucked out of Oz. Some cheer some don’t. But the establishment ruled in favour of the litle man/woman/they/them/us. The Tory party, the Labour Party as I write, the establishment is doing its best to hold off a decision, but are beginning to agree that the snivelling toff – he of American birth – has to go.
It reminds me of an incident that happened in the revolutionary theatre group I spent my twenties performing in. We were a big team. Two working class thespians – that’s me and the old git – and the rest, well-heeled, well-educated and well-meaning. The trouble with being well brought up is that an air of naiveté informs decision making. A sense of fairness, an inability to see through the sheeps’ clothing. The trouble with being brought up as part of the elite means that scuffed shoes, second hand cardigans and boxed ears, have no meaning. But I digress. We were all well meaning rebels and then a tricky fellow joined the group.
Just in case he is reading this I am going to change his name in the interest of fair reportage. ‘Peter’ joined our group having been a member of the BNP, via the Conservative party, The Liberal Party, The Labour Party, and finally transmogrifying into the left wing version of fascism. He was a good worker and could sing like Matt Monroe. Along with the rest of us, after each gig, he collected small change in our collection buckets for ‘Rock Against Racism’.
We gigged a lot and we collected a big deal of money. Then one day the bucket and money went missing. It was gone nowhere to be found.
Of course I knew instantly that ‘Peter’ had purloined it. The old git had an inkling, but the rest of the troupe refused to confront ‘Pete’ – lest they upset him. They refused to condemn him. They refused to see the truth of the man and what he had done. The incident went on for months and then, guess what? He did indeed disappear having pocketed a pile of cash. The disgusting thief knew that the majority of his colleagues were too frightened to confront him.
I believe there is no negotiation when all the evidence speaks of wrong doing.
You can argue, argy bargy, buy in lawyers, spend money on defence, you can deflect, diverge and downright lie, but the savvy amongst us recognise all those diversionary tactics and know that when the fucker has nicked the bucket of money, unless you trap him in the doorway, he will get away Scot free, just like Peter.
It’s clear that the naive will hesitate and run away from the truth, they will run away because they are cowards or frightened or implicated or just too damned weak to take responsibility for calling out the Tosser.
So on this cold and frosty morning, as the majority of the Tory party wait for a fact finding mission from a civil servant who will uncover what she can and uncover what she can’t, we witness the ‘Peters’ Principle’ playing out.
A group of MP’s who can only rise to the level of their own incompetence.
I think Boris like Peter has been given enough rope, although I think he is too much of a slimy fucker to hang himself with it.
But we see you Boris Baggins. We are catching up with you. And if that bucket of metaphorical money is found in your newly decorated shower room, you’d better be afraid – very afraid.