Why does Gold cost so much?
Because we want it to, say the economists.
But I know they’re wrong.
Gold’s important for magic. Especially longevity spells.
Has to do with gold’s nonreactiveness and free radicals in the body.
Proximity is the trick. Be near the gold.
If you have enough gold available, you could probably live forever.
However, it’s hard getting a hold of that much.
And the market can turn on you quick.
Me, I went into the soldiering business. Charmed my way into guard duty at Fort Knox, then the Federal Reserve.
I figure I’m set for life.
Tag: society
Iron Fist
We live in a dictatorship.
The Great Leader rules the land with an iron fist.
Well, it’s actually a rather nice-looking prosthetic. Rather functional, too. He used to be medical technology engineer who worked with advanced robotics before he went into politics, but he still dabbles in the field now and then when the country’s running smoothly.
Which is rather often, even during disasters. We’re all quite well prepared for most circumstances, and don’t panic in a crisis.
Neighboring countries regularly beg for us to invade them and take them over, but we’re quite content to manage our own affairs.
Healthy Eating
I was sent to a mission on some remote Pacific Island to teach the natives about our Church, culture, and all sorts of modern things like nutrition.
Fruits and vegetables are good for you, nice and healthy, while too much meat and fat is bad for you.
“You are what you eat,” I say.
They hit me on the head, tied me up, and stuck me in a stewpot.
Nobody told me these savages were cannibals.
The hot water woke me up, and I shouted “Don’t eat me!”
The chief laughed. “We’re giving you a bath. Man, your cologne stinks.”
Spectactle
The town hung criminals from a tree outside the courthouse.
People came from miles to watch.
Over time, it became an event.
Hawkers shouted LEMONADE and PRETZELS as they pushed their carts through the jubilant crowd.
The town decided this was in bad taste and ended the public hangings.
Instead, they made the hangings private.
The new county arboretum is a beautiful building, built around the old hanging tree.
Hangings are now private events. Invitation-only.
No people coming from miles to watch.
No pushcarts. No lemonade or pretzels.
Just the witnesses, the criminal, the hangman, and a bottle of champagne.
Sic Semper Tyrannis?
It starts with the rumors on Twitter.
“Ghadafi captured.”
Then come the rumors that he’s been killed.
Jokes that Ghadafi’s captured, Khadafi killed, and Qadafy’s denying it all.
A photo appears. People shout “Photoshop!”
Finally, confirmation. He’s dead.
Drudge Report posts a photo of Obama shaking hands with Ghadafi.
Ghadafi’s in one of his wacked-out robes, looking like Keith Richards gone mad in a bazaar.
I mutter “Why is he shaking hands with that asshole?”
“It’s diplomacy,” says my friend. “Even dictators like Ghadafi get basic respect.”
I laugh. “I mean why is Ghadafi shaking hands with that asshole Obama?”
Sockpuppet
Nobody paid Walter Drub any notice.
But his sockpuppet, Senator Fenton, was leading the polls in October. Practically a shoe-in for the presidency.
I can’t explain how this happened. It’s just as weird to me as it is to you, and I’m his chief of staff.
But somehow, Boston elected a sockpuppet mayor, then senator, and now the entire country was falling in love with him.
Sadly, it all came crashing down when Walter tried to wash Fenton, and he vanished in the dryer.
He tried using a right sock.
“Impostor!” people shouted, and poor Walter ran for his life.
War No More
In Micah and Isaiah, spears are bent into pruning-hooks and swords into plowshares, but in Joel they are bent back.
I guess they didn’t have enough metal to maintain a reasonable inventory of both.
These days, we’ve got lots of metal, but it’s always good to recycle.
Plus, who really needs plow-shares or pruning-hooks these days? Instead of bending swords and spears into them, you can make good money selling weaponry to some Renaissance festival role-player.
Sure, you might need to dull the edges a bit or encase them in a hard resin for safety, but that’s easier than bending.
Unoccupied
It’s Tuesday. Time to visit John’s money.
I insist on meeting my broker in person.
Traffic’s bad. There’s protestors.
They call themselves “Occupy Wall Street.”
So, I get out, and they cheer.
“YOKO!”
Looking around at these wannabe revolutionaries, I mumbled that these fools couldn’t topple a government, let alone a tower of Jenga blocks on a wobbly kitchen table.
Whatever.
“Fight the power!” I said, and they cheered.
How many of these people hating bankers and lawyers for “not making things” actually make things themselves besides FB updates and noise?
Pathetic.
I get back in my limo and leave.
Leave It All To Fluffy
The old lady wanted to be buried with her beloved poodle.
Beloved to the old lady. To everybody else, a biting and snapping menace.
Especially to her caretaker.
So, when she died, the caretaker gave the dog poison and paid the funeral home to stick the evil beast in the coffin.
When the will was read and the old lady had left everything to the caretaker, provided he took care of the poodle, he said “Yeah, I took care of the dog.”
The lawyer nodded. “Damn thing bit me when she had me update her will. Good riddance to it.”
School’s Out
Our school can’t afford the electric bill.
Wind turbines, solar cells, and other renewable energies just can’t generate all the energy we need.
So, we rigged up a system of wires and pulleys to the backs of students heads so as they fall asleep from boredom, their nodding off are driving flywheels hooked to magnets.
The results have been spectacular. We have more than enough energy for our needs. In fact, we’re making money by sending energy back to the grid.
Problem is, we’re having to bore our students. Nobody’s learning anything.
Oh well. As if that’s anything new, right?