Laughter, or cackling, from Mistress Candida's corner office. My God, if I laugh any harder I am going to pee my leather britches! Dear sweet Albert Ruesga is on again about whether to welcome Wealth Bondage into what he calls "organized philanthropy." He sees the benefits. He see the drawbacks. He loves his job, he loves his field, he loves the poor and all creatures big and small. Thump thump goes his bleeding heart. He feels anguish that foundations do not embody what he calls a higher - this cracks me up - moral consciousness! Yes, Albert is lecturing us, the world at large, about higher consciousness. Earth to Albert! Raising consciousness is so 1969. Albert you are trapped in some kind of a time warp. We want results, Sweetie. Get off your ass and save capitalism. And, by the way, what the hell kind of name is Ruesga? Sounds like some kind of Albanian vegetable. A moralist named Ruesga? The man has no sense of what he really is. They should put him on a float and pull him down Main Street. The last honest man! Wave to your imaginary admirers, Albert!