I realize, of course, snarks will
impugn my sincerity in this dis-
cussion, for an impudence of con-
fiding one's thoughts from the
dressing room. I remark from this
setting only to convey some sense
of the ubiquity of experience in-
vaded by one's pre-occupation,
with any risk of post-Occupation,
of such a casino-rich slash of
desert, simply seething for de-
velopment. But, again, I stray.
We are not Bugsy - er, I mean,
Benny - in making a living. We
use governments for wet work.
Now we're really getting one.
What I value in my nominee for de-
velopment of the West Bank - my in-
defatigable bankruptcy attorney -
is not that he knows who's butter-
ing his bread, but that he defers
to the next generation, as in hust-
ling my dearest flamingo past the
tacky scribes at Federal Court.
Oh, what selflessness! What Polon-
ial footing in the back stairs of
a bondholder's intrigue. Fate must
thus distill a conspicuous, ex-
quisitely lingering unraveling of
his reputation, as soon as it can
be found, draped behind my promises.
ii David Friedman, Esq.
United States District Court
New Jersey, 2010