Dear Sean Berkowitz,
As you know, I’ve been unhappy with you for quite some time. The truth of the matter is you don’t love me and I never loved you. In fairness, I tried. Really I did and I found some good things in you. I mean, I met some really wonderful friends through you. Such as Jeff Skilling. I was so happy about this meeting that it occurred to me that I am one of the luckiest people in the world. After all, as you were standing beside him and all his glorious, beautiful intelligence it became painfully clear that you are merely a shallow airhead with a nice degree. But Jeff’s degree, from the same institution, served him better. As you discovered while you questioned him during his trial, he knew what the hell he was talking about and you did not. He not only humiliated you, you were too blockheaded and blind to know when you lost a battle. Your ego insisted you forge on, digging yourself into ever deeper problems while Jeff sat serenely on the stand, secure in the cocoon of his righteous innocence.
At one time I believed we went together like bacon and eggs. Like hookers and blow. But over time I began to understand that under your formal black suit, you were really an arrogant, preening, beady-eyed, premature ejaculator. You’re sneaky, not clever. Bitchy, not authoritative. You became jealous of him, you know. I could see it. The entire courtroom could detect it. Your desire to acquire his power was so obvious that at times you seemed to be asking him how he fooled everyone, how he managed the great ruse that was Enron. You seemed to want to learn his skills, to inspire others to follow you the way they would follow him, with that ready, instinctive willingness to serve.
At least you are bright enough to know when you need help and for that, I applaude you. You are known as a calm manipulator. Jeff is known as emotional. After watching you in action, I would say you are lethargic and he’s kicking your ass. You shoved him, insisting he was guilty of a grand conspiracy. He finally shouted, “Are Citibank and Merrill involved in this conspiracy too?” to which you could do nothing but recoil and huddle with the likewise milk-brained team of prosecutors. You ‘proved’ he was a madman, all wailing crazy and wild-eyed. Oh yes, yes you did. You rule, Mr. Sean Berkowitz. You got a man on trial for his life to lose his control. Kudos.
Sean, I’m sorry it’s come to this, but I simply can’t stand you anymore, not when there are truly exciting, handsome, good men out there like Jeff Skilling. So thank you for introducing us.
Good luck, Sean. Good luck and goodbye.
(To read my letter to Jeff Skilling announcing my breakup with Sean Berkowitz, click here.)
Jeff Skilling is a very lucky man!