IF
If you can keep your job when all your cronies
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can vote yourself a massive bonus,
Despite the quarter's plunging revenue;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting
To sink the knife exactly where it fits,
And being hated beat them all at hating,
And then downsize them all, the stupid shits;
If you can dream of sex all through a meeting
With hot account execs from O & M,
But never give a hint, however fleeting,
Your mind's on anything but cpm's;
If you can slap and tickle without feeling,
Give new meaning to the phrase "a bottom line";
If you can reinforce that glassy ceiling
(And fire the silly ninnies when they whine);
If you can stop the whistleblower blowing
And make sure the bastard never works again;
If you can inside trade without showing
And when the feds call, neatly shift the blame;
If you can peddle the stuff that causes cancer
But know the art of making settlements;
If you can perjure smoothly when you answer
And have the court seal all your documents;
If you can sell your board stupendous hooey;
If you can sweet-talk Fortune magazine;
If you can screw - but never be the screwee;
If you can count the all-important bean;
If you can fill each ever-loving minute
With sixty seconds of concern for Number One,
The company is yours and all that's in it,
And - yes - you'll be the CEO, my son!
T. Hendra
"If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs...."
Then perhaps you have misunderstood the seriousness of the situation.
Dang. That poem fits a good many members of Congress.