Saturday, May 19, 2018

Things I Think About (2)

If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who aren't here yet) — the Stickies — to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars
Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse and back scratcher 
Iggy -- My designated Sticky
Dana -- My designated gentlereader

       "If everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking."
                                                              -George S. Patton

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

This letter is actually directed primarily at my gentlereaders but there is content here that you may also find useful.  

All Infomercials Great and Small

Alrighty then, is that everything? Is it finally time to grab our naughty parts and jump?

All but... we've never decided if we're going to offer free shipping or not.

You know what? it's just the right thing to do. If people are nice enough to order our product the least we can do is pay for the shipping.

The preceding dialog is fiction squared. I not only made it up, there's just no way such a conversation has ever taken place. The phrase free shipping is pure, unadulterated, bonkercockie. Free shipping is to infomercials as hand-dipped is to an ice cream parlor.

[However, I'll admit that robot-dipped is at least theoretically possible; robot-pumped is a thing. I don't want to offend any gentlereaders so I won't mention that in my semi-humble opinion "soft-serve" ain't ice cream.]

There is no such thing as a free lunch. If it's too good to be true it's too good to be true. The cost of the shipping and/or handling/processing/whatevering is built into the price.


I'm not a marketer but if I were I'd try something like "With the exception of Uncle Sam's cut -- as you know, Uncle always gets his cut -- $19.99 is what it's going to cost you to buy our world-class electric toothpick and have it delivered to your door."

I freely and willingly offer up this concept to anyone willing to try it. All I ask is that you mention when they hand you your trophy at the awards dinner.

No Trump No Way Day

10:00 a.m., Saturday morning.

Next up on the Sludge Network, the Ralph Infammy Report. The Sludge Network, all infotainment -- all the time.

Good morning and welcome to the Infammy Report. As you've probably heard -- or at least I hope so since we've promoted it hard enough (warm chuckle) -- Today is NTNW day here at the Sludge Network. NTNW stands for No Trump, No Way.

As promised, we will do our best not to mention the Donald or his family. No discussion of, or interviews with, past or present minions, wives, or lovers. No, not even her.

Fear not. In the event of important breaking news involving the Donald, we'll abandon this temporary format faster than the Donald fires flunkies and will follow our standard practice.

To wit, endless coverage wherein we will report every unconfirmed rumor as soon as we hear it while reminding you it's an unconfirmed rumor. Each and every unconfirmed rumor, if it's juicy enough, will be expanded on by our Sludge Network analysts following the usual formula.   

That is, if this turns out to actually be true then this might be the result. 

We hope you enjoy your Trump free day and may we suggest that if you wish to maximize your enjoyment that you also attempt to avoid thinking about any president since Hoobert Heever.   

Coco Is Still Adrift in a Cultural Wilderness

As regular readers and my Dear Stickies know, I self-identify as a sassy black lesbian woman named Coco who is trapped inside the body of an old white dude a member of the white heteropatriarchy.

The reason I came out of the closet, after a lifetime of denial, is twofold. First, American culture has finally turned its collective back on the outdated notion of rugged individuals employing rationally negotiated compromise because we're all on the same team and we all want the team to win.

We've embraced the power of victimhood.

Second, we've discovered that bonding with like-minded victims dramatically increases our ability to air our grievances and demand redress.

The second phenomenon has been elevated to an art form by advanced thinkers of the Social Justice movement. Intersectionality, the technique of adopting several different victim profiles instead of putting all your angst in one basket, allows any given victim to radically expand their victimhood.

In addition to the obvious psychological benefits, this technique also has practical, real-world ramifications. The more egregious the victimology, the better the chance any given victim will be the beneficiary of a lawsuit or at least a program of some sort provided by The Gummit.

[Poppa, sometimes I think you have too much time on your hands...]

Iggy, I'm just trying to make the world a better place for you and your fellow Stickies. Poppa loves you.

 Have an OK day.

[P.S. Gentlereaders, for 25¢ a week, no, seriously, for 25¢ a week you can become a Patron of this weekly column and help to prevent an old crank from running the streets at night in search of cheap thrills and ill-gotten gains.

If there are some readers out there that think my shtuff is worth a buck or three a month, color me honored, and grateful. Regardless, if you like it, could you please share it? There are buttons at the end of every column.]

©2018 Mark Mehlmauer   (The Flyoverland Crank)

If you're reading this on my website (where there are tons of older columns, a glossary, and other goodies) and if you wish to comment — or react (way cooler than liking, and Facebook doesn't keep track) — please scroll down. 



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Don't demonize, compromise