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Greg Smith's Warholian week is (happily) ending. He has had his moment; unless he has more revelations, greater literary skills and a continuing desire for the spotlight, he will submerge again into the sea of humanity with the rest of us. He will become obscure, a footnote, a raised eyebrow at a cocktail party. Oh, that Greg Smith. This will undoubtedly make the folks at Goldman, Sachs & Co. very happy. This will confirm their most effective defense: not that the firm did not behave as Smith describes -- the we're-still-super memo from Blankfein and Cohn was widely derided -- but that Smith simply had no right to step out of line. He was a nobody. He had not ascended to the status of a somebody, like a managing director, despite the grandiose "executive director" title, which by itself suggests some attempt to paper over careerist tensions down in the ranks at Goldman. No one reported to him. He was barely real. In the meme heard all over town, and all over the blogosphere: He'll be quickly forgotten. He was angry about his crappy bonus and his diminishing expectations. He had taken the money for 12 years. He did not have the stripes to bitch. He was an outlier, a whiner, a cipher. He was not a player.
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