Bubblehammerblog

I can't work up any enthusiasm for the invitation to get indignant over Sir Fred Goodwin's modest £16 million payoff. Over the last couple of decades I've noticed few complaints about undeserving people with vast pallet loads of money. As I recall it we've celebrated the lifestyles of the rich and famous, and not bothered much about where all the cash came from. Relaxed about people getting filthy rich. A cultural aristocracy has emerged, broadly called celebrities, that includes people rich beyond the dreams of avarice. The numbers are as difficult to grasp as the billions and trillions being bandied about in the current banking panic.

Take David Beckham, undoubtably a graceful footballer and a nice lad with a hansome jib. He has a fortune worth well over £200 million, and palaces on two continents. Then there's Elton John, unfairly called by some an irascible wee fat old puff, though in my view a fine lyricist and spectacular performer, who's amassed more than twice as much, and has double the palaces. Damien Hirst, performance artist, construction manager, and canny bilker of billionaires, was telling us recently that the proceeds from his recent car boot sale had made him a dollar billionaire. Damien has outdone Saddam in palaces.

And what does it say when Bono, bandy legged anthem botherer and stuff strutter on the global stage, owns a big chunk of Forbes Magazine, publisher of the eponymous Global Rich List, and vulgarly known as the millionaire's bible. Someone tried to tell me it sells for $200 a pop. Bono has fine reception rooms in each of his estates in Dublin, London, Paris, New York, Washington, Los Angeles, and Pago Pago, to which the world's movers and shakers await invitations.

When things were going well, Broon would've put old Fred Goodwin's £16 million earner down to that dull old mule 'hard work'. For Broon marches under the banner of 'hard work'.

Speaking of which, last week I saw former funnyman and management consultant, John Cleese, with a $24 million real estate portfolio, publicly moaning that he'd have to 'work dammned hard' for two months every year to pay for his ex-wife's palace refurbishment.

We could afford to enjoy the spectacle of the millionaire lifestyle because debonaire spivs of Goodwins kidney, with Broon's encouragement, had been able amass huge amounts of surplus wealth to pay for it. Gazing into the celebrity bubble allowed us a glimpse of what increasing prosperity and free markets might bring us. If we worked hard.

Now someone is going to have to pay for all the treasure that's been shovelled into oblivion to keep the markets going. A shaken Ant and Dec, pictured today on the cover of the Mirror, have already sacrificed £6 million from their £30 wad. There are signs of hope though. Secondrate 80s one-hit popsters, Spandau Ballet, have reformed and will tour again. One of the band reported, 'We've had a few rehearsals now, and we sound like a million dollars.'

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