Rupert Murdoch
(Most of these people insisted on anonymity to share intimate details about the family and its business so as not to risk retribution.)
from an article on Rupert Murdoch in today's New York Times
When I want to deal the dirt
I simply have to say
"This is all anonymous,
don't give my name away!"
Cuz journalists are hungry
for a story that will rise
above the realm of verity,
to snag the Hillman Prize.
And I sure fear reprisals
from the people I have dissed;
who I have stabbed right in the back
(and also fondly kissed.)
And so I come to Rupert,
who I've known a long long while;
full of contradictions,
with a fascinating guile.
He's good to his employees,
unless he is good and mad.
He loves his wives and children
(though he treats them like a cad.)
He'd like to rule a country --
just a small one that is poor;
he'd keep the peasants working
and give banks the old what-for.
He never touches corn flakes
and of Guinness he is fond;
He dotes on fast red race cars
and pretends that he's James Bond.
In fine (though off the record)
he's the kind of perky gent
who never gives an order
unless to a president . . .
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