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The New Yorker's Jame Surowiecki examines embattled, time-delay retiree Disney CEO Michael Eisner succession plans. Or rather, the lack thereof, since the closest he's actually come to making those plans happened in the moments before quadruple-bypass surgery:

Just before taking him to the operating room, the doctors gave him a little time to talk to his wife and his sons.

Among other things (including his wish to be buried aboveground), Eisner wanted to discuss who would succeed him as C.E.O. if something went wrong. The only candidates he could come up with were his friends Barry Diller and Michael Ovitz. There were no Disney executives on his list. No one at the company, he thought, was capable of taking his place...In a different movie, his pre-op epiphany would have impelled him to change his ways...Eisner spent his next decade at Disney as he had his first: refusing to accept that someday he’d have to step down.

This is certainly going to end ugly. On the day he's forced to surrender power, we picture a Disneyland scene straight out of Dog Day Afternoon, with Eisner running around the Magic Kingdom and holding a loaded "Pirates of the Caribbean" blunderbuss to Bob Iger's head as he baits the pursuing cops. You know, unless he has another heart-attack-cum-deathbed-epiphany, where he deliriously names Donald Duck and Jeffrey Katzenberg as his possible successors.