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by
Todd Brown
August 16, 2008
Boy I bet investors in Newman Enterprises breathed a
collective sigh of relief to hear that Adam Wilson,
a.k.a. Victor Adam Newman, will be overseeing the
company. Who wouldn't entrust their financial
portfolios to some kid fresh out of business school
they'd never even heard of before? Never mind the
fact that they didn't even know such a person
existed, since relatively few people knew Victor had
another son besides Nicholas. Never mind the fact
that they didn't even seem to be aware that Nicholas
and Victoria no longer worked there. Never mind the
fact that Junior has only worked for the company a
few months. No, it's enough that his last name is
Newman, you see.
Not real impressed with Adam's Harvard education if
he failed to learn such basics as the fact that
being one's son does not in fact entitle you to take
over one's company simply based on parentage. Mr.
Brainiac there just got one-upped by an ex stripper
and his mentally challenged half siblings who never
even went to college. Maybe the standards are lower
at Harvard these days.
Of course, Newman investors might actually prefer
anyone other than Victor Sr. if they knew what kind
of stunts the old man pulled from time to time, like
burying his cell phone, wallet and seizure meds in
his dead wife's grave. If he hadn't voluntarily left
town they might have hauled him off to the psych
ward for evaluation.
What was the point of Victor burying his wallet in
the ground if he was just just going to take cash
out of the safe for spending money? What was the
point of burying his cell phone if he was just going
to get another one? And what was the point of
burying his medicine if he was going to send chica
escuela to the local El Walgreen for a re-fill? And
what's the point of washing down anti-seizure
medication with shots of tequila? Either you want to
stay well or you don't.
I like how they have subtitles whenever Victor
speaks Spanish. They really need to do that whenever
he speaks English, too. Too bad it doesn't help the
bartender any. He's probably wondering "What the
hell is this old guy mumbling about?" All that booze
and no food it's a wonder Victor can speak at all.
Strange no matter how many shots of tequila he
pounds down he's no more and no less coherent than
when he's sober.
Speaking of psych wards, isn't it about time
somebody hauls Chloe off to a nice padded cell? I
don't get why everyone tolerates her. She is clearly
off her rocker and continues to insinuate herself
where she isn't wanted - which is basically
everywhere in Genoa City. Why doesn't Neil kick her
out of the club, why doesn't Kevin ban her from the
coffee shop? Why doesn't Cane get a retraining order
against this stalker? The fact that she voluntarily
keeps going back for abuse is proof enough she's
certifiable.
And in what universe would it be a good idea for
Cane to marry Chloe? What year is this, 1895? The
man hates her guts. I don't see how that's such a
great thing for the baby. Even a small child would
sense that his father couldn't stand the sight of
his mother. And how awkward having to explain to the
little one that mommy and daddy only got married
because daddy got drunk off his ass, mommy threw
herself at him in a car, and daddy's idiot
girlfriend insisted he marry the woman. Happy
birthday!
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