As you're likely aware, there are a whole bunch of people who've been giving Lloyd Blankfein shit for the past year or so. Pissant members of Congress, peasants, PETA. They've been a bit of a nuisances but their impotent rage has been fairly easy to brush and in many cases laugh off. None of them are writing books about GS and most of them cannot claim to know that the firm's founder, Marcus Goldman, or his son, Henry, would be pissed about how the place has "changed." And then you have June Breton Fishe, great granddaughter and granddaughter of Marcus and Hank, respectively. She is writing a book on how much better things were when her relatives were running the place and she has a couple grievances to air with Mr. B. Such as, respect, or a lackthereof as indicated by this shit:

“The entryway on Goldman Sachs’s executive floor is hung with paintings of all the senior partners since the firm’s inception,” says June Breton Fisher. “I took a close look and finally asked, ‘Where’s my grandfather?’”

He wasn’t there. No portrait, no photograph, not even a snapshot recalled Henry Goldman, the founder’s son whose financial innovations created the modern banking business.

Oh, and do you want her opinion on "the current situation" over at 200 West (which I think we're supposed to infer as "the state of Goldman being a criminal enterprise")? No? Well you're gonna get it anyway.

I find it disappointing. My grandfather and Mr. Sachs were very ethical, moral businessmen and what they really wanted to do above all else was preserve the Goldman Sachs name.

But perhaps what's most disturbing to JBF is what she sees as a lack of sartorial innovation, one of the hallmarks of the old GS.

We spent summer vacations as a family at my grandparents’ home in the Adirondack Mountains. You could see him in a more relaxed mode, see the fun side of him, like when he went around in a cape and a crown.

Unlike some people.