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Sunday, June 29, 2014

A Teenager's Letter to Obama


Dear President Barack Obama,

Like you, I’m a superhero. I’ve been watching you, and I think we both have the same superpower.
Unlike you, the problem for me is that nobody realizes this fact.
Maybe everyone should be paying closer attention to me. It’s like I know everything for instance. There’s a word for that—omni-something or other. Omni LOL! Sounds like some 70’s era station-wagon. Like you President Obama, I am also incredibly generous. If I had millions of dollars I’d definitely give away thousands of dollars of it to charitable causes. The problem is that my parents haven’t given me millions of dollars yet.
Even though I know everything, I’m still not doing that well in school because—as usual—my teachers are all stupid. Why should I memorize boring names, titles, dates, facts, figures, etc., when you can look all that stuff up on Google? And also, what good is it to know everything, when professors expect you to dance around reciting boring facts as though you were some kind of monkey dancing to the tune of a peddler’s Hurdy-Gurdy?
I would have been more successful in school if my parents had done more. There were days when dinner totally sucked. How am I supposed to do homework when I’m hungry? There were days when I went to school hungry because the cereal was all gone or the milk was all gone or the pop-tarts were all gone. What, am I supposed to cook eggs or something? Plus, my parents don’t even have a toaster! How am I supposed to toast bread without a toaster? In the oven? Please!
I was all set to be the valedictorian of my high school, you know. There I was in Idaho and everything was perfect. Then, before my tenth grade year, my parents just up and moved to Memphis, Tennessee, because of my dad’s stupid job or something. And because of that I started failing classes.
Teachers here in Memphis, Suckasee, are so stupid. OMG! If you don’t believe me just ask some of my friends. It’s like you ask a simple question and then they have to give you some kind of an hour long lecture that even if anyone could stand to listen to the whole long boring stupid thing, it would totally make no sense at all.
It’s not fair!
All my friends have cars. If my parents had gotten me a car I would have done better in school. Even though I’m a superhero, flying isn’t one of my super powers. Which also isn’t fair by the way. How am I supposed to do all the things I have to do, like get homework done, then eat breakfast, then get ready, then finally, finally—OMG!—make it out to the bus stop before the sun even comes out? It’s like the universe has it in for me. And my parents too! And my stupid school with all its stupid-stupid-stupid teachers.
Did I mention that I have to do chores? I mean, my parents, my school, and all my stupid teachers constantly dump all over me. I’m standing here, holding the entire world on my shoulders—like that Greek Pizza-Pizza guy—and they just keep dumping more and more stuff on me. I’m so sorry world! It turns out that my super power is not doing homework and chores at the speed of light! Take out the garbage. Mow the lawn. Do this do that! OMG! It sucks so totally, so completely totally much that … I’m just over it. You know what I mean? OVER IT!
I had a D in my freshman English class in Idaho. I know that’s not great, but it was passing. In Idaho a 65 is a D. Here in Memphis, Suckasee, you have to have a 70 to pass. I was passing in Idaho but in this craptastic countryass town it’s a fail. So why should I have to repeat it? Why should I bother studying, reading, and doing homework for a class I already passed? Now I’ve taken that same stupid freshman English class three times! They just don’t get it do they? Hello! I already passed!
It really breaks my heart. I could have really been somebody if it wasn’t for everybody else holding me back. Every time I started to get ahead, they pulled me back. It just goes to show that even when you’re a superhero, if they crap on you enough, your life will totally suck.
 So, you’re probably wondering what my super power is? Whenever anything bad happens that seems to be my fault, I have the ability to explain whose fault it really is. My parents call this power of mine making excuses, but President Obama, you and I both know it’s called an explanation.
PS—My freshman English teacher made me write this stupid letter. I hope she’s happy…NOT!
PPS—Edited spellchecked and rewritten literally from beginning-to-end by the stupid parents of this amazingly incredibly intelligent, wise, and awesome high school-soon-to-be-a-dropout superhero.

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Obama's 300? Tonight We Dine In Hell!


President Obama said today he is prepared to send up to 300 U.S. military advisers to Iraq to assist in training and advising Iraqi forces as the tense situation in the country continues to escalate.

In a statement in the White House briefing room, Obama said the U.S. is prepared to create joint operation centers between the U.S. and Iraq in Baghdad and northern Iraq.

The president also said the U.S. is taking steps so that it's "prepared to take targeted and precise military action if and when we determine the situation on the ground requires it." The president said he would consult closely with Congress and leaders in Iraq before any decision is made.
Make no mistake Xerxes and his horde are on their way to Baghdad.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

And a Little Child Shall Follow Them

Even though it's summertime, a neighborhood elementary school near where I work is open and students are attending a summer program. As I drove at 15 mph through the school zone, I noticed a group of seven young students walking to school. They were of ages from six years old to perhaps nine. The smallest one trailed along a little behind the rest. I noticed her because I couldn't help noticing her. It was already 85° outside, with a heat index nearing ninety. Keep in mind that this was at 7:00 AM. Imagine what it will be like at 2:00 PM when this six-year-old girl has to back walk home? She shuffled along behind the rest, wrapped from head to toe in some kind of Islamic child garb that covered her body and head, allowing only a small portion of her face—including eyes, nose, and mouth to show.

As the other kids jumped and played in their shorts and tee-shirts she was probably thinking how fun it would be to join in. I feel sorry for her. For her it will never get better, only worse. The saddest part of all is that she's one of the lucky ones. She's here in America and going to school. How different her life would have been if her parents hadn't come here.

I wonder if she or her parents understand how lucky they are to be here. I don't know if they are illegals, but let's assume they're here legitimately. They were accepted. They were allowed to come here, to live here, to participate in perhaps the greatest and most successful example of the principle of liberty and freedom in the history of the world. This girl's parents chose to come here, to live here, to raise their child here. Why do they refuse to assimilate here? Why do they choose to handicap and shackle their own precious little girl? It's like an escaped convict after a successful prison break choosing to spend the rest of his life wearing that ball-and-chain. It's insane.

That's the great danger of this whole multiculturalism experiment isn't it? As these minority cultures cling intransigently to their own dress code, their own moral framework, their own language, their own justice system, new arrivals meet up with their cultural peers and these little undigestible hunks of something America should never have swallowed begin to swell and turn worse than noxious. If our own once American once Christian culture wasn't already so frail, so ill, so near death, perhaps we'd be able to regurgitate this evil mass of poison churning away inside our gut. But the way it looks now it's already too late for the ambulance, and the undertaker has his tape-measure out.

A family who swathes their tiny little girl in stifling heavy clothing in the heart of summer is insane. It's not just cruel. It's not just unfair. Cruelty and injustice are a big part of the human experience, but this goes beyond that. They're not doing it because they enjoy causing misery and suffering, they're doing it because their insane parents did it to them, and so on going back for hundreds of years. So what's their problem? Here's the litany:
  • Despicable treatment of women as chattel
  • Compete disregard for human life
  • Blind hatred of other races and creeds
  • Homicidal-suicidal monomania regarding their religion
  • Obsessive-compulsive washing behavior
  • Five times per day kneeling and praying wherever they find themselves.
  • Taking an entire month off of work for Ramadan
And then when you throw in the petty difference between Sunni and Shia Muslims and the horrific mass carnage this tiny split caused? I think most sane people reflecting on the facts and ignoring the taqiyya would come to realize that these Muslims are as a people, as a culture, as a religion, irredeemably insane. It's a cycle of violence that is similar to child abuse and pedophilia. As it was done to the mother and father so will it be done to the daughter and son. This cycle of insanity leads backwards into the infamy of time, to the most destructive lunatic who ever lived in the entire history of mankind.

Monday, June 16, 2014

'Cause I'm the sales-tax man, yeah, I'm the sales-tax man



Here's an economic fact that a lot of conservatives know, and that a lot of liberals don't: the price of a product is largely dependent upon how much it costs the seller to acquire and at some point finally sell said product with all the attendant expenses, labor, rent, electricity, shipping, etc. When you raise the minimum wage, when you require onerous hoops that must be continually jumped through, when you raise taxes on shippers, raise taxes on fuel, and finally when you sic the EPA on a thousand innocent targets per day, the prices of goods and services are necessarily going to increase accordingly.

For example, when the minimum wage goes up, immediately customers begin to see that the increased cost of labor forces businesses to nudge the prices of their goods and services upward. The only exception to this basic economic principle is the normal method of sales tax collection—which is an unfathomably stupid way of doing business in my opinion. The advertised price of the product offered completely ignores the incipient sales tax that will inevitably be charged.

A grocery shopper sees the price of a product and perhaps mentally adds the required six to eleven percent of the sales tax to the running total he's got in his head, but in all likelihood when all his items are finally rung up and the sales tax is added in, the total is going to surprise him. The customer was quoted one price in the store aisles, on the television, in the weekly circular, but none of that matters because in spite of its promises, the store is going to ask for quite a bit more.

Recently there has been quite a bit of chatter about forcing internet retailers to charge sales tax—and lining up like good little ducklings—quite a few, like Amazon have begun doing so. The big box retailers are funneling beaucoup bucks into the wallets of lobbyists and political campaigns in the pursuit of forcing every retailer—regardless of where they live—to begin charging sales tax.
The Marketplace Fairness Act supporters, a/k/a people who want to tax the internet, say it is just fair. Technically, when you buy something online you, the consumer, are supposed to pay the sales tax. But few, if any, actually do. So the geniuses who support the internet tax have come up with a great idea. They will make the businesses in every state keep up with the sales tax regimes of all the other states. They will force the burden of one state’s tax collection schemes onto the businesses of other states.
Can you imagine this! Small time on-line retailers will be expected to calculate the sales tax of their customers for whatever county, city, and state the customer lives in. There are literally thousands of different sales tax rates across the country, and additionally, to make it even more awesomely fun, different goods and services are taxed within each locality at different rates depending on whether it's a food, or beverage, or candy, or a service, or any of hundreds of different mitigating factors.

The big box retailers already have their cash registers programmed for their particular area, but what about on-line mom and pop operations? Not only would they have to collect the correct amounts from whomever, wherever, for whatever, but they'd also be required to pay those amounts to the proper city county and state, along with the requisite forms and paperwork required by each county city and state.

Okay, perhaps the brick and mortar businesses have a point. They say it's not fair and because of sales tax they will lose business to on-line. Don't forget however. that with on-line sales the customer must usually pay shipping fees which can be substantial.

Less thought about but certainly considered when making an online purchase is the uncertainty factor. At a physical store, customers receive the product at the moment they spend their money, and additionally if the product is broken or not what the customer expected, they can almost always return it for a full refund. However, with on-line sales a lot more trust is required, and it's much more difficult and time-consuming if the customer desires a refund. For these reasons, adding sales tax to on-line retail would unfairly tip the desirability balance much more towards brick and mortar.

When you combine the tax accounting nightmare involved, and the decreased desirability of on-line transactions due to shipping costs and the risks involved in actually receiving a satisfactory product on a timely basis through the mail, small-time retailers will be forced out of business.

Now finally we get to the entire point of this entire blog entry. Retailers are scammed by sales tax because they think it doesn't hurt them. They believe it's a tax paid by the buyer. However, customers spend less at their business because they've already factored in the cost of sales tax so it does hurt the retailer. Customers are scammed by sales tax because they don't see the tax reflected in the advertised price, and are often shocked—even dismayed—at the checkout counter.

Taxes should be paid by the party who receives the money not the party who pays the money. When you put the onus of tax debt on the seller instead of the buyer, all of a sudden all these problems are each solved. It won't matter where on earth the buyer comes from. They call it a sales tax not a purchase tax. Why not really make it that way? Make the tax the sellers responsibility and have the seller reflect the cost of tax in the advertised or "sticker" price.

Wouldn't it be great to go to Wendy's for a Junior Cheeseburger and then pay with your only one-dollar bill? You could even tell them they could keep the penny. Why should retailers be shanghaied into becoming tax-enforcers. Isn't running a business hard enough without throwing that responsibility at them? Sales tax as it exists is the stupidest—or perhaps most dishonest—idea bureaucrats have dreamed up...ever.

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Cantor, and Krugman's Conservative Confabulation

According to Krugman, the defeat of Cantor is that long flat tone you hear from the EKG shortly before the sheet is pulled over the body of "Movement Conservatism." Now before you get anxious or confused, you first need to know what Krugman means by "Movement Conservatism." Here’s his definition:
an interlocking set of institutions and alliances that won elections by stoking cultural and racial anxiety but used these victories mainly to push an elitist economic agenda, meanwhile providing a support network for political and ideological loyalists.
Well that doesn’t sound like a very flattering description of conservative politics. In the lead in of his article Krugman states that “Movement conservatism dominated American politics from the election of Ronald Reagan, until the election of Barack Hussein Obama.

Allow me to rephrase Paul Krugman’s working thesis: American politics on the right, was controlled by the good old boys—white boys—and their one-percenter sugar-daddies from the time of Ronald Reagan forward. This uber-wealthy elitist racist consortium cleverly managed to win elections by stoking the racialist fears of a white majority terrified of all those dark-skinned bogeymen beating on their drums so menacingly in the jungles of the urban night.

However, according to Krugman, once their elections were secured, the “Movement Conservatism” politicians returned to their real agenda which was merely crony capitalism and unbridled wealth building. In a nutshell, a bunch of poor red-necks and racists crawled out of the woodwork to vote for someone who they thought would back their racist agenda of a return to segregation or perhaps even slavery, but instead of doing their job, these greedy politicians were too busy amassing wealth to be bothered by passing laws which would have put blacks back into chains where we Republicans believe they belong.

One wonders whether Krugman’s conservative confabulation brings him satisfaction or perhaps irritation instead? Is he happy that the goals of the red-necks and racists of the USA are stifled stymied and betrayed by their leaders, or is he irritated that these rich white one-percenters continue to amass great fortunes by cynically manipulating their ignorant constituency?

The breathtaking condescension of this New York Times writer is so over the top that I’m nearly at a loss for words. But not quite. According to Krugman's confabulation, there are only two kinds of Republicans. We’re either stupid hayseed racists who just fell off the turnip truck on the way to Wal-Mart, or we’re evil billionaires with an insatiable thirst for more and more wealth—cue the screaming villagers brandishing torches. It's one or the other.



But wait...there's more!
We don’t know exactly why [Cantor] lost his primary, but it seems clear that Republican base voters didn’t trust him to serve their priorities as opposed to those of corporate interests (and they were probably right). And the specific issue that loomed largest, immigration, also happens to be one on which the divergence between the base and the party elite is wide. It’s not just that the elite believes that it must find a way to reach Hispanics, whom the base loathes. There’s also an inherent conflict between the base’s nativism and the corporate desire for abundant, cheap labor.
Not only do we trailer-dwelling red-neck Republicans want to put blacks back in chains, but we "loathe" all Hispanics. We hate blacks and we loathe Hispanics. I honestly wonder how Paul Krugman turned out the way he did. I don't see how you could grow up in this country honestly having this low an opinion of such a vast multitude of people. So then, my question for Paul Krugman is a simple one: Is it perhaps you Paul Krugman who is in fact the toothless benighted extra-chromosome bearing troglodyte found crawling out of the woodwork, or is it perhaps you Paul Krugman who is in fact the cynical wealth-amassing greedy one-percenter cynically stoking cultural and racial anxiety in your ceaseless quest for more and more wealth?

Is it all of us in our hundreds of millions, who are wrong, or could it perhaps be you Mr. Paul Robin Krugman who is completely 180° bassackwards? I feel sure that I know what Occam would have said ... slice ... He who smelt it, probably dealt it.

Sunday, June 8, 2014

If they can, they will.

I came across this link through American Thinker. The concept introduced was that faux outrage was the bread and butter of the blogger industry. It made terrible sense to me.

Is it just me, or does it seem like our human sense of humor has slowly atrophied over the past several decades? The classic pie in the face that was funny ten years ago would probably land you in jail today with an assault charge. The bag of burning poo on the door step? Well, now you've really stepped in it. Swat teams and the Department of Homeland Security would flood the area of the offense and terrorize the community until the perpetrators of the dastardly act of terrorism was identified and brought to justice.

"So here is us, on the raggedy edge." You're probably well aware of the over-reaction that ensued when a child in school dared to brandish a pop-tart, but this is just a tiny sliver of the over-all twisted Menzoberranzan society we live in.

Most of you will not get the Menzoberranzan reference. There is a series of novels by R.A. Salvatore called the Dark Elf Trilogy. The story is of a nice kid born into a truly evil land—Menzoberranzan. Here's a short excerpt from the first book in the trilogy called Homeland:
The Academy.

It is the propagation of the lies that bind drow society together; the ultimate perpetration of falsehoods repeated so many times that they ring true against any contrary evidence. The lessons young drow are taught of truth and justice are so blatantly refuted by everyday life in wicked Menzoberranzan that it is hard to understand how any could believe them. Still they do.

Even now, decades removed, the thought of the place frightens me, not for any physical pain or the ever-present sense of possible death—I have trod down many roads equally dangerous in that way. The Academy of Menzoberranzan frightens me when I think of the survivors, the graduates, existing—reveling—within the evil fabrications that shape their world.

They live with the belief that anything is acceptable if you can get away with it, that self-gratification is the most important aspect of existence, and that power comes only to she or he who is strong enough and cunning enough to snatch it from the failing hands of those who no longer deserve it. Compassion has no place in Menzoberranzan, and yet it is compassion, not fear, that brings harmony to most races. It is harmony, working toward shared goals, that precedes greatness.

Lies engulf the drow in fear and mistrust, refute friendship at the tip of a Lloth-blessed sword. The hatred and ambition fostered by these amoral tenets are the doom of my people, a weakness that they perceive as strength. The result is a paralyzing, paranoid existence that the drow call the edge of readiness.
Did you ever get the feeling that if they can they will? Think about the Miranda Rights statement: "Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law." But it's so much worse than that. Anything you say, anything you do, can and will be used against you in the court of public opinion. If you own a basketball team and have a problem with your girlfriend associating with a particular race—even though she is of that race herself—and the evil bitch tapes you talking—illegally I might add—and releases that tape to the press, well Donald, if they can they will. Look on the bright side, you're still a billionaire.

My philosophy about people in general is perhaps the most cynical and dark comment on human nature that it's possible to have. I think most people believe that people in general are good and kind and want to help their fellow man. I, however, understand that nothing could be further from the truth. If they can they will.

Imagine you're the United States Senate minority leader. You say some nice things about Senator Strom Thurmond, and because of the storm of controversy that ensues, you're forced to resign. Imagine you're telling a story. You tell about an incident in your life, and what you learned from it. You meant the story to be a teaching moment, where you learned a valuable moral lesson. Instead, the if-they-can-they-will crowd sees a weakness, exploits the weakness, and within hours you're fired. Imagine a radio personality trying to be funny who talks about nappy-headed hos, and within days he's gone.

If there is one thing you can count on it's that if they can they will. What a terrible accusation to tar humankind with. It makes me ashamed to be a human being. What's the matter with us? Look around you sometime. Maybe you're at a board meeting. Maybe you're at a PTA meeting. Listen to how people talk about other people. Oh they'll always couch the discussion in terms of being helpful, being righteous, looking out for the interests of the company or the community or the children, but the fact is this: if somebody spots a weakness, a poor turn of phrase, an unfortunate association, they'll use that moment of weakness to sanctimoniously rip out your still beating heart.

Why? Why would former friends, colleagues, and media personalities who used to give and receive gifts, ask for and offer favors, beg for interviews, suddenly turn on a person as though they were among a crazed horde of zombies suddenly smelling fresh brains? Why? Because if they can, they will.

Imagine you're a technician or a scientist who's developed a robot that can aid humankind in a valuable way. This robot interacts with autistic children, and seems to be helping. In a playful joking way you name the robot "Carl's Junior." At first nobody get's the joke. The poor scientist who named his robot never learned or perhaps forgot that if they can, they will.
Krichmar has developed “Carl’s Junior” a sensitive robot that looks like a turtle with colored stripes across its shell. This therapeutic robot is being used at a nearby school to help with children on the autism spectrum who seem to respond well to an inanimate, yet responsive object

Friday, June 6, 2014

Lest we forget how we got to this point...

Remember this?


We chant a rhyme, a blatant lie.
We never ask our teacher why.

mmm mmm mmm, Barack Hussein Obama

We look so cute; our happy song
will make you think that right is wrong.

mmm mmm mmm, Barack Hussein Obama

Our teacher's black and has the right
to shanghai the children to her fight.

mmm mmm mmm, Barack Hussein Obama

When we grow up, what a force we'll be,
proclaiming our disdain for truth and liberty.

mmm mmm mmm, Barack Hussein Obama

One day we'll trade our freedom
for an apartment and a car.
We'll vote for our dear leader
and we know that he'll go far.
Feelings instead of reason,
that's our part to play,
and though it may be treason,
the all-powerful State for which we pray,
we'd do it all again, if this were yesterday.

Yes, mmm mmm mmm, Barack Hussein Obama!

Wasn't that simply adorable? The only thing that I would change, is to give all the kids the same costumes, you know like matching brown shirts or something. Well, if you've succeeded in watching the video past the midway point...I know, I know, you probably never made it that far, but now that your stomach has settled from its recent unfortunate upheaval, perhaps you recognized the melody that those perky kids were singing? That was The Battle Hymn of the Republic! However, did you also notice they gave that cherished song a whole new set of lyrics? Well, in the spirit of maximum all-you-can-eat propaganda, I'm talking about all-day all-the-way cram-it-down-your-throat brainwash-fever, here are some new and even more improved lyrics that your own kids may one day be parroting under the watchful gaze of his or her own enthusiastic teacher indoctrinator:

Mine eyes have seen the glory
Of the coming of Dear Leader
He is trampling down the vestiges
from which our freedoms teeter
He has loosed the frightful NSA
and lest the truth seem sweeter
His lies are marching on

I have seen him in the t.v. screens
Of a hundred million fools
They have builded him an altar
drinking burr and smoking Kools
I can read his teleprompter
as he's feted like a rockstar
His term is marching on

I have read a fiery op-ed
Writ in envious words of rage
As they crucify his condemners
Obama shall prance upon the stage
He's the Golden Child of Harvard
Crushing business with a "living" wage
Burying us in debt and on and on and on

Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Dear Leader is marching on

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Primary Motivators

Breathing has got to head the list. After that is hydration and food, followed by sleep. But what about fury? I'd hold by breath for a minute or three if it bought me a turn in the 'punt a liberal for distance' contest. In point of fact I'd fast for three days and three nights and hold vigil abstaining from sleep if at the end of that time I was granted the first move in a game of South Park style Roshambo with an Ivy League professor.

Too bad there's not a fund or something...

In this hypothetical investment vehicle, investors would purchase votes for one dollar a vote. Then they'd use that vote on the candidate of their choice. Finally, after say about ten-thousand votes or so had come in, the votes would be tabulated and a vagrant would receive a 10K bounty to knock the teeth out of the overall winner. What could be more democratic than that?

In fact, when I think about it, that's the kind of vagrant rehabilitation program I could really get behind. I was just over at the Washington Post. Bergdahl release arrangement could threaten the safety of Americans, Republicans say.

How do you like that caveat at the end of the headline? "Republicans say." I linked the comments to the article because if you go to the trouble of reading down through them, you'll begin to get an idea what's wrong. What's wrong is that facts don't matter. Common sense doesn't matter. The only thing that can be counted on is ideological accomplices aiding and abetting a felon as he goes about committing felony after felony.
Of Course the Republican's are going to say that, because they have been totally inept on all fronts of leadership, policy making and decency. These Republican morons are the worst and most dysfunctional excuse for what is supposed to be public service. The one thing the American worker and middle class can always depend on is that the Republican party will never have their best interest at heart!
Keep in mind as you read the comments that none of the liberals addresses the fact that another feature has been added to the primary motivation of a hostage taking Islamic terrorist. Obviously terror is important, but then when you add the opportunity to amass trade goods, i.e. hostages, it's a win win. If you think about it, logically, they could open jihadi hostage banks...
A swarthy gentleman dressed in the height of 8th century fashion approaches a nondescript building in downtown Kabul. He walks in to the dimly lit waiting area and notices a row of chairs with several men dressed in attire much like his own. The soothing atonal melodies of a badakshani can be heard along with the clicks and pops of the ancient vinyl record player they emanate from. After a few minutes Hamaji is motioned into a small office.

"Hokay I have been seeing these commercials on Al Jazeera, and all my friends are like, Hamaji, buddy, better safe than sorry. Think about your family. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for them."

"Well, Mr. Hamaji," says the swarthy gentleman behind the desk, " in my opinion, you've made the right decision coming here. We're a new bank and not HDIC insured as yet, but if the Caliphate goes through as planned—and by the way that project is on the launching pad as we speak—then before you know it your hostage will be covered in case of accidental death or deliberate dismemberment.

"HDIC?"

"Hostage Deposit Insurance Corporation."

"Ahhh, yes, that makes sense. I was thinking about timeshare," said Hamaji a little bit hesitantly. All these new-fangled financial vehicles made him feel overwhelmed. Life used to be so simple. Strap on a grenade, walk somewhere with lots of people, boom. Simple as that, but nowadays everything had gotten so complicated!

"Time share, absolutely! Listen, you and four other guys basically share one hostage. It's understood that if one or more of you are captured, that hostage is spent on your release. Obviously care and hostage feeding would be your own responsibility, but it's a solid plan. But before you go that route me and the guys were spitballing some ideas in the back, the other day and we thought, hostage mutual funds!

"See what we do, is we collect Iranian Rials, Saudi Riyals, Afghani Afghanis—not the most original currency name—from investors, and we announce a bounty. Then we pay that bounty out for hostages. It's sort of like an insurance plan. Only, we expect it to actually make money for investors as well as providing capture coverage. Eventually the stupid Americans will run out of guys in Guantanamo, and at that point, it will go as a strictly cash-on-the-barrel-head sales management system. We've been talking with some guys in the commodities markets and they're pretty sure this idea is a real money maker.

"So, waddaya say Hammy baby? Interested?"

"Let me talk it over with the guys in my terrorist cell group, they'll talk it over with their cell group, and so on. By this time next lunar cycle I should have an answer. I gotta tell you though, this sounds pretty exciting. I mean, I knew we could blow up evil swine-eating Americans with impunity, but to get rich to boot, it's like killing two Americans with one AK-47 round!"

Happy B-Day Frank J Fleming

If The One can do it then why not everyone. Happy Birthday Frank J. Don't let this go to your head, though.