Billy Boy is "coasting" back to NYC

Paul sent over a specially highlighted copy of the Daily News this morning with the following photo in it:



Yep, that's right, it shows Billy Boy crying at his little "end of watch" ceremony with the LAPD. I was laughing so hard it brought tears to my own eyes to see this. But back to the serious business at hand here, there is nothing funny about that prick coming back here. Why can't he just go "coast" on back to Boston where he belongs? This clown is getting more press exposure in NYC than I am. Who the hell do these reporters think they are, anyway? I ordered Paul to immediately "verify" this particular Daily Snooze reporter's press credentials. I am confident he will find some kind of clerical error that will require the credentials to be immediately revoked.

And then Billy Boy had the nerve to say this:

""I intend to not fade away," he added. "I think you'll see quite a lot of me."

Like I haven't seen enough of this guy all over the papers already these past couple of months. He better not even so much as jaywalk! I'm the sheriff in this town and he is going to be made to feel it.

"Bratton has no interest in elected office, he told The News, but said he'd consider a return to his old job at 1 Police Plaza down the line."

An arrogant son-of-a-bitch, I tell you. I still have the feeling that he's working out some kind of deal with Mike for that third mayoral term. Mike's chief of staff denies it, but every time I try to call Mike personally to discuss this he either tells me he'll call me right back and hangs up (and never does call back), or he doesn't answer at all. And I know he's purposely ignoring me because it doesn't go immediately to voicemail, it rings a couple of times first. He's screening my calls and sending them to voicemail on purpose, that backstabbing bastard.

I wonder how General Carl von Clausewitz would handle this whole situation?

P.S.: I ordered Mordechai to assemble a permanent observation post to sit on Elaine's. I know that asshole will show up there sooner or later.

The Times is in love with me

Folks, a real treat will be arriving at your front door steps or at the local newsstand in the form of page A13 of the New York Times this morning. It is a beautifully articulated piece about my tasteful sense of style. In particular it concerns my tie collection. Of course, I was also able to throw in a bit about how this relates to my Marine Corps leadership traits:

"At the same time, he concedes that his ties are an insight into his ethos, and that wearing them fulfills one of the Marine Corps leadership traits — bearing — that calls for “creating a favorable impression in carriage, appearance and personal conduct at all times.” If those in his 35,000-member police force emulate his immaculately tailored looks, that is a positive to him."

"Immaculately tailored looks." Isn't that just wonderful? As to emulating me, it's a nice thought, but do these guys have any idea what kind of low-grade crap we sell at the Equipment Section? Immaculately tailored is certainly not the first word that comes to mind there.

Now if only Paul would finally shut up and stop asking me what exactly I promised the New York Times in return for this fluff piece. Really, it wasn't much, really not worth mentioning. These guys will practically kiss my ass for anything. I think the Times might just soon be replacing the Economist as my favorite paper if they keep up this great work (so you better watch it you British bastards).

Keep smiling, Billy Boy

Yeah, you keep smiling, Billy Boy. Enjoy hogging that media limelight while it lasts. You want to run for mayor in 2013? IT'S FRIGGIN' ON, TOUGH GUY! Oh and don't even think about parking your car anywhere in this city, ever. I have directed the Traffic guys to create a new unit just for you: The Bill Bratton Special Traffic Enforcement Unit.

And Mordechai is going to follow you everywhere. YOU WON'T EVEN BE ABLE TO TAKE A DUMP WITHOUT ME KNOWING ABOUT IT, BILLY BOY!

I just destroyed my chair

Dear Sheeple,

I always make sure Paul sends me the LA Times as part of my special Commissioner's morning newspaper package. I do this to keep tabs on my arch nemesis Bill Bratton over at the LAPD. I even ordered the DCPI's office to text message me instantly whenever anything concerning that loser appears in any online press stories. So they just texted me this LA Times story a few hours ago. The bastard is resigning!

Now that in and of itself didn't really concern me all that much, until I read the following line in the article:

"Bratton is expected to relocate to New York City to run the firm."

My reaction upon reading that sentence was not pretty at all. Have you ever had one of those moments where reading something in the newspaper literally causes you to have an explosive diarrhetic attack? Well, let's just say I had to put in a call to the quartermaster's unit to requisition a new office chair. Oh, and my favorite Martin Greenfield suit is no longer wearable. Dammit.

Anyway, so supposedly Billy boy is coming to the city to run some kind of private security firm. Yeah, sure. I bet he had a meeting with Mike. That backstabbing bastard is going to show me the door and boot me out when he wins his third term. Just yesterday at a campaign reception I walked up to Mike for a little chit chat and without even acknowledging me he summoned his chief of staff, who in turn told me to "walk away, enjoy the caviar, and then quietly leave. And don't show up to these events again, ever." What a bunch of assholes.

Something is up and I don't like it.

A million bucks for typewriters

Those pricks at the Post just can't stop making me look bad. I've spent my entire tenure as Mike's police commissioner trying to build my image as being an innovative leader who brought the police department into the modern age, dare I say I consider myself a veritable Einstein of law enforcement. But then those dilettantes just had to go and print an article about how much money we're wasting on typewriters:

"The city is plunking down nearly $1 million on typewriters for its keystroke cops."

Paul, bless his communist-style propaganda dispensing heart, put the usual spin on things:

"The department also is working on software to eliminate the old machines, a rep said."

Not being one to take Paul's bovine excretions at face value like the press always does, I wanted a true picture of what's going on with this. I called up Jim (my top IT man) and asked him just exactly how long we've been "working on software to eliminate the old machines." He started to stutter like an incompetent CO who hadn't prepared for CompStat.

"Uhh, we've, uhh, kind of been on this since 1993, commish."

I had coffee exiting my nasal cavities at this point. It was all over my screen and keyboard. This guy had to be kidding me. "We've been at this for sixteen years and the best you idiots can do is come up with a revamped multipart form that still has to be done on a typewriter?" "Well, boss, these things take time. And, you know, people come and go, they retire, you know, people lose track of things." This was the last straw. Everybody has a goddamned excuse in this place. "I'm sorry, Jim, but you're an idiot. I bet a third rate computer science student could come up with a system in less than a week. What kind of circus are you running down there?"

I hung up on him. You might still see his name on our website as being the Deputy Commissioner of Technological Development, and you may or may not hear about this in a press release, but Jim is definitely done. I am cutting him out of the decision making process. MISD will now report directly to me.

P.S.: That loser Bratton just sent me a text message: "HAHAHAHAHA, just read the story in the NY Post. You know the NYC Transit Police had computerized property vouchering set up and running in 1993, right? You FAIL, Ray, LOL!!!" I tossed my iPhone through my office doorway. What a prick, it's not like he fared any better with this when he was running the show here.

Charlie has lost his mind

My god. Charlie is becoming a certified EDP. I don't recall ever telling him to do something this stupid:

"An NYPD sergeant and three officers were stripped of their guns and badges after they allegedly failed an integrity test and kept a bunch of hats and shirts that the Internal Affairs Bureau left on a Brooklyn street, police sources said.

Instead of bringing the found booty in for inventory, the cops gave them out to people in the neighborhood."

Yes, folks, imagine that: these terrible criminal cops engaged in some charity work and handed out a couple of worthless hats and shirts to the local kids and homeless crackheads! What an impressive corruption caper the Rat Squad got here!

Now I wish I could announce here that Charlie is done and being put out to pasture, but the trouble is, I don't even know where the hell the man is. I can't ever reach him to tell him to put in his papers for retirement (lord knows it's time for him to go) and the only time he pops up is at big events like the Academy graduation ceremony. But when I try to walk over to him at the coffee machine after such events he scurries away and disappears for weeks.

And then this morning I got a priority FedEx document sent to my apartment that said this:

"I know where you live. -- Yours truly, Charlie"

What the hell is that even supposed to mean? I mean, what the fuck? This guy is scary, let me tell you. He will literally invent dirt to bury you with if he wants to.

My staff tried to B.S. me today

Now I'm seriously pissed. We showed off those new Nissan hybrid RMPs today for the press. That all went well, except for one little thing. See that mobile data terminal (MDT) I'm using in the photo? Yeah, I kid you not, Fleet Services actually tried to snowball me into believing that this thing is currently standard issue in all precinct RMPs.

Worse yet, I almost believed them until one of the cops doing headquarters security walked by, saluted me, and asked me "if all precincts are going to get that new, better looking, more advanced MDT that actually works." Let me tell you did I ever fly off the handle. As soon as the cameras were gone I cursed up such a storm at that poor sergeant sitting next to me I think he thought I was going to rip the computer off the dashboard and throw it at him.

Gun buy-backs

Dear Sheeple,

While perusing the Daily News during breakfast this morning I was quite happy to read this puff piece about our latest Bronx gun buy-back stunt.

"'This was the most successful gun buy-back program to date,' Police Commissioner Ray Kelly said of the cash-for-guns swap at six churches across the borough."

"The haul included 296 revolvers, 174 semi-automatic pistols, 242 rifles and 163 shotguns - plus 21 assault weapons, 13 sawed-off shotguns and 78 other guns, including rifles painted pink to resemble toys."

What we didn't mention was how many of those guns were actually in operable condition. Remember, we're always happy to count grandpa's rusty old antique revolver from his collection of Civil War memorabilia. You know, that rusty piece of junk that hasn't been fired since 1865 and couldn't be used to kill anyone unless it was used to bash the victim's head in.

But what really made my day was the fact that the Daily News has been following Paul's propaganda bullet points to the letter:

"While Kelly cited statistics showing an overall drop in shootings recently - both intentional and accidental - the Bronx saw 13 shootings on the day of the buy-back, two of them fatal."

An "overall drop in shootings." Outstanding, I am relieved they didn't mention that little tid-bit those pricks at the New York Slimes printed a couple of days ago: "In 2008, even as gun killings fell, the number of killings committed with knives or other “cutting instruments” rose 50 percent in New York City, the Police Department said: to 125 from 83."

That's right, if they don't use a gun they revert to a knife. Who would have thought that? Isn't it the guns that kill, not people?

Paul deftly responded to those losers:

"“It is hard to say with certainty what accounts for the increase,” said Paul J. Browne, the chief spokesman for the New York Police Department."

An answer that sounds highly professional and knowledgeable but actually tells us nothing. Great work. Now I just need to add those New York Times assholes to my special "Delayed Press Credentials" list.

Charlie takes things too far

Dear readers,

First off I'll admit that I'm the one who ordered the creation of the IAB Traffic Unit. After Mike dropped by last year and showed me one of his nifty Power Point presentations with charts and graphs and everything showing how we could gain some easy political expediency points by towing off-duty cop vehicles I was more than convinced we need to do it.

But good heavens, when I came across this story in the Daily News two weeks ago I thought it was some kind of late April Fools joke. Read this particular nugget that sums it up:

"The chief of the Police Department's Internal Affairs Bureau nominated his own division for a unit award at this summer's Medal Day, sources said."

Charlie has lost his mind. Even a politically savvy guy like me knows that there are certain lines you just don't cross. And nominating an Internal Affairs unit that isn't even concerned with anything remotely resembling the investigation of corruption - which is what IAB is actually supposed to be doing - is taking things way too far. Then some asinine "source" who clearly needs to be tracked down and issued some green paper for opening his mouth states:

"The feeling at the top is that it is a horrible, thankless job," one source said."

Interesting. Did I sign off on this "feeling at the top"? I don't remember, but the fact is that nobody forces anybody to sign up for that "horrible, thankless job" of summonsing and towing MOS vehicles. I purposely made it an all-volunteer detail so that I could get the cream of the crop, the true believers, and Kool-Aid gulpers.

But seriously, nominating any Rat Squad unit at all would be a stretch, but the Parking Placard Enforcement Clowns? Really, Charlie? While we had a rookie running around last year robbing banks at gunpoint Charlie was apparently way too busy typing up that unit citation recommendation. I need to find some way to force this guy out, because he constantly disappears while the real corruption is happening only to emerge and pull a stunt like this. Horrendously ridiculous.

Rumor denial regarding transfer requests

Paul always says that the number one rule of effective press manipulation is to get out in front of any negative rumors and completely deny them.

Well, one rumor flying around has been that I allegedly take low-level personnel transfer requests home on the weekends to review them. And when I say low-level we're talking like the police department version of a Fortune 500 company CEO involving himself in which building janitor #78 wants to be transferred to in order to perform his toilet cleaning tasks. Unfortunately, since this rumor absolutely, one hundred percent true, I am hereby denying that I ever do anything remotely like that. I may be an extreme micromanager but come on, what would that make me look like to the public if I admitted that I actually involve myself personally in such ridiculously petty day-to-day personnel decisions?

Really, folks. Seriously. Would the CEO of, say, Intel, concern himself with whether or not Jose at building #1 of the Mexico factory wants to transfer to a spot at building #2? Clearly such a CEO would have to be brain damaged to the point of being classified a vegetable to care about such mundane nonsense. So, all you pricks spreading this little tidbit about my managerial style around can go to hell. My wife already whines enough about how I bring stacks of these transfer requests home and stay up pacing back and forth in my study, ranting and raving delusionally into the early hours of the morning. So I don't want to hear complaints from anyone else.

Micromanagement is the best thing since sliced bread

I subscribe to a particular management school of thought referred to as "micromanagement." And the reason for this is quite concisely contained in the following quote, one of my personal favorites of all time:

"In a hierarchy, every employee tends to rise to his level of incompetence." - Laurence J. Peter

The New York Daily News published a horrible article yesterday, stating that "NYPD commanders are railing against a recent policy change that requires the police commissioner to sign off on what used to be routine staff transfers."

Well, duh, you stupidly bumbling moronic commanders. As Professor Peter points out in the above quotation, employees rise to their respective levels of incompetence. So, if every precinct or even borough commander is at his level of incompetence, how can I trust him to make a decision on his own? The answer is that I cannot.

Read what this whining little "ranking member of the brass" (and soon-to-be-not-so-ranking when Charlie finds out who this leaking bastard is) had to say:

"It sends a message that no one is trusted to make the right decision, even on the most local level."

I'm glad the message is finally getting through. Some say I'm a power mongering paranoid delusional retard for doing things like this, but the fact is I'm just being a damn good chief executive.

I do like how Paul dances around the subject:

"The commissioner has complete confidence in the staff - they are the people responsible for driving crime down 30% below where anyone thought it possible," Browne said."

God bless you if you actually believe the part about me having "complete confidence in the staff." I laughed so hard about that statement that I nearly fell off my chair.

On to the next little gem:

"It doesn't mean transfers won't be approved, it's just a chance to look at and review any wider impact."

I usually take between one and two years to "review" such important decisions. Micromanagement is where it's at, folks. You heard it here first.

Update: People are already e-mailing me asking if everyone rises to his level incompetence, how could it be that I have somehow escaped that fate? Well, my dear readers, I have long surpassed my level of incompetence. Therefore, I am no longer incompetent. Makes perfect sense.