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Chapter 2011 – Notes on the US Default

Thomas Wood — Sat, 30 Jul 2011 22:54:48 +0000

So we’re broke, or nearly there. Here’s a few brief thoughts:

If congress get’s paid and the troops do not, we should ask for a majority vote of the armed services and send Congress to the front lines.
Remember, that the debt ceiling has nothing to do with spending any more or any less money. The money is already spent; Congress is just voting on whether or not to pay the bill.
Most Americans have little understanding of the debt-ceiling, its origins, or the implications of a default on world finance, or even what world finance has anything to do with anything.
Result: Modern terrorism is simply too complex for the public to comprehend.
Taxes: I’m middle class and I would pay more. I promise to budget for myself responsibly. We can ask millionaires and governments to do the same.
Finally: Default is not an option. Our word is our bond and our bonds ought to be our word.

Porn for Philanthropy

Thomas Wood — Thu, 17 Feb 2011 01:36:40 +0000

I have this idea that pornography should be more philanthropic. Here’s the premise: There’s a lot of us looking at a lot of pornography. We are, for whatever reasons, ignoring all issues of morality, seeking it out. Why not, then, tether that pornography with something philanthropic?

The idea came to me from some simple data. I get more hits on my site from the few posts where I have images of breasts (or even the word ‘breast’) than all the rest of my writing, combined. This suggested an interesting experiment. Why not, in addition to the semi-intelligent writing, also feature random nudie shots. Such shots could then link back to the writing. Everbody wins (everybody meaning me).

It’s not a novel idea; folks have been luring customers in with a pretty face, etc, forever, but I haven’t seen it done much on the internet.

In the broadest sense, this is a challenge: porn for philanthropy. I want to see pornhub.com, etc, feature a cause on its website. I want users to finish watching a video of MILFs doing something unspeakable with not only a sense of satisfaction but also an inspired understanding of the plight of budget cuts on our local elementary schools.

Perhaps, selfishly, I should lead the way. I should create my own ridiculous, small time porn enterprise. Any volunteers? Who wants to be the first guy or girl in Modern Sexy?

"I like boys, girls, and supporting the Boys and Girls Club of America."

"Not all Asians are great at math. Donate to the Children's Scholarship Fund."

"These two are fucked, but the budget of NPR doesn't have to be. Contact your congressman to support the funding of public broadcast."

Adorable Ransom

Thomas Wood — Wed, 16 Feb 2011 02:04:34 +0000

I saw this ad on Amazon from the ASPCA. Of course, you see these all the time, sometimes even on the television. And they all go the same way. ”Help us save this animal.” And we look at how cute and sad it is. Who wouldn’t want to save this dog?

I get that animals are important to people, but I can’t help but feel there’s an obvious scam here. I’m not saying the ASPCA is a scam or even the idea of saving animals, just that something about it seems so, well, blatant.

“Pay up, or the dog gets it.” That’s what I’m reading here.

That’s ransom, right?

I mean, it wouldn’t be too hard to set up some kind of animal shelter and take advantage of this. The regulations can’t be too expensive to cover. You go around to all the pounds and collect the cutest animals. Not just the dogs: everything. Then, you send out the ransom notes with a simple theme. Pay up, or the animal gets it.

"For just 60 cents a day we'll keep Bobby from shooting Mittens."

"The only think stopping our dog, Rufus, from devouring this baby chick is a $6 leash that we can't afford to maintain without your help. Donate today."

"Times are tough for everyone right now, and that's why for just a dollar a day you can help a poor family afford better entertainment then the Friday-Night-Bunny-Crush they had planned."

And let’s all just note for a moment, just so that it’s completely obvious and up front, that this doesn’t work for animals that aren’t cute. Nobody wants to save an elephant seal. It just doesn’t work.

"His fatty tissues will be harvested for precious heating oil unless you can contribute $36 to the Elephant Seal Rescue fund."

It’s also interesting to put this cause next to one that deals with humans (which are often just as bad).

There’s a lot of people who feel a lot more for animals than for people. Assuming you only give money to one charity, choosing to save the animals is, in some sense, choosing not to save some children.

"Both of these babies are named Stewart. One of them will have breakfast today. You decide"

And it’s not that it makes you or anyone a bad person for donating to or wanting to help save animals. Animals are great. They give us love and companionship and, in some sense, have a real right to life that we should try to honor.

It’s just these goddam ads. It seems so, I don’t know, unfair, to make people feel personally responsible. It’s that I shouldn’t feel like I’m personally responsible for saving this cute thing which is definitely going to die unless I put the money in the suitcase, leave it in locker eleven, and come alone.

Racist MythBusters

Thomas Wood — Fri, 11 Feb 2011 17:00:06 +0000

Are Mexican’s lazy? Are the French always rude? How well endowed are your black friends, really?

I didn’t get a chance to discuss these myths with Myth Buster, Jaime Hyneman, the other night at a Q&A with him that I attended (by “didn’t get a chance” I mean I didn’t dare to even stand within ten feet of him while thinking about it, let alone discuss such ridiculousness with the man), but I think a lot of good could come from it.

Here’s the pitch:

Name a race, any, and there’s a myth, a stereotype about it, and probably more than one. Why not look at these straight in the face? Why not give stereotypes an opportunity to be put to scientific rigor. Because, though it’s great to discount them as obviously and blatantly racist an unfounded, how about a little evidence, once and for all.

And maybe you’re thinking, “Why even entertain such myths? Why even dignify them with a response?” Two reasons: One, it’s bound to be entertaining. Two, and most importantly, nothing cures ignorance like science.

Poles are stupid, right? Let’s put them up against some Asians in a math test.
Trash makes Indians cry? Probably, but why shouldn’t it? And who knows, maybe it’s an allergy.
Asians are good at math, right? Let’s see how good they are at doing multiplication when trying to drive responsibly, without almost fucking running into my Silverado that I just goddam got back from the dealer.
The Welsh have sex with animals, regularly. Actually, I have no real test conceived for that one yet.

The point is, there’s a million myths based on race, ethnicity, religion, gender, creed (does anyone even have a creed anymore?) and so on. We all participate in them or at least know about them. So let’s have a laugh about it. Let’s bring it out into the open. There’s already so much evidence out there, let’s add some critical commentary.

“White guys can’t dance.” Oh no, she didn’t!

“Muslims are all terrorists.” Nah, most of them are regular, beautiful assholes, just trying to get by like the rest of us.

“Indians can’t stop crying about the environment.” Complete rubbish…

#nopromo

Thomas Wood — Fri, 04 Feb 2011 21:49:42 +0000

Forget #nohomo, the linguistic phenomenon of undermining any potentially homosexual overtones. (As in, “I love the Rock, #nohomo.) Because one of the real issues we face today isn’t about one’s sense of self-confidence, or even homo-phobia, it’s narcissism.

All modern social media depends on the ever increasing need of people to show off, in one way or another. Indeed, all the world’s a stage, and everyone is scurrying for a positive review. Everything is a sexy black and white. Everyone’s opinion matters. Not to mention the banal and endless collection of friends.

That’s why we need #nopromo.

#nopromo is the call for people to express themselves without a link, a like, a digg or a share. #nopromo says, “Look, I’m a narcissist, just like you, and as hot as I am, and as smart as you are, why can’t we just talk to each other, for even a 140 character limited sentence, without trying to get you to check something out.”

#nopromo insists on utter sincerity.

It might look like this:

“I’m genuinely concerned over the well being of those protesting in Cairo” #nopromo.
“I’ll be appearing in San Francisco, on Feb 17, to help feed the homeless” #nopromo
“I wish Charlie Sheen the best. No, seriously. Addiction is such a devastating disease.” #nopromo
“I have nice tits and an alluring smile, but that’s all people see. I get scared that’s all there is sometimes, you know.” #nopromo
“My new Comedy Central Pilot is fun, but the world would be better if you spent that prime-time slot talking with your kids.” #nopromo
“I wrote this song because girls, age 12-15, can relate to the easy lyrics and will buy merchandise. It’s not art. It’s economics.” #nopromo

#nopromo doesn’t need to be any kind of movement, revolution, nothing. But it should trend. Just a day. One day. That’s it. Just a day to think about fewer links.

Meanwhile, I’m not ignorant of how narcissistic my whole endeavor is. My hope is that you’ll read this, that the idea will catch on. I hope that a thousand, and then a million people “check it out,” link back to me, share, digg, friend, like, etc, until I get to shake hands with John Stewart, until I get to rap with the Roots, until I get to write something relevant enough, reviewed enough, to make it as a parody on Family Guy. Please comment. Please follow me. Share this. Check this out.

In the name of all that is gracious, please, for the love of fucking Christ, pay attention to me. Just look. Please. Look…at…me. Me….me….MEEEEE!

See what I mean? #nopromo.

For further examples of my hypocrisy, please note the links I put to this page on Twitter, Facebook, Google, etc, etc, boo me…

Goat Solves AIDS

Thomas Wood — Tue, 01 Feb 2011 16:52:11 +0000

There aren’t enough problems in the world that can be solved by giving someone a goat.

I mean, camon’, imagine if, “hmm, better just buy a ton of goats,” was the answer to some of the more widely publisized world dilemmas.

How would goats solve these problems?

Breast Cancer? Goat will fix it. Because goats love breasts, and are terrified of tumors, which killed their cousin on a ski trip in Tahoe.
AIDS: Goats totally solve AIDS. It’s like “Yahtzee” to them. They’re bored with it and figured it out when they were, like, ten years old.
Nuclear Proliferation? Every time a nuclear bomb is made a goat somewhere sheds a single tear. All the other goats feel this tear and are outraged. Goat strikes ensue, and when goats strike, politicians listen.
World hunger? No brainer. Goats are terrific goddam farmers. They eat weeds and poop barley. Nobody doesn’t like barley.
Haiti? Under goat rule, Haiti would become like the great Atlantis of yore. In ten years time, Haitians all over the world would be gifting their benevolent presence at various conferences, gently chiding all the rest of the world to switch from petroleum based energy to puppy-farts, and from the internet to the inter-shore, where information passes like tourists on a cruise, spam is made of actual spam, and porn is served discreetly in a banana flavored cocktail.

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering about how goats can actually help the world, in a charitable sense, that is, check out the video that got me to thinking about it in the first place from Heifer.org. I thought it ridiculous sounding at first – hence this post – but the idea actually seems really sound to me.

The Future of the Groupon

Thomas Wood — Tue, 01 Feb 2011 16:49:22 +0000

The Groupon business model cannot last.

Firstly, there are too many Groupons: Google, Living Social, Yelp, RetialMeNot, Yahoo, DealGooder, SFweekly, and on, and on, and on. I’m getting like seven “daily deals” a day, minimum.

The math can’t last and here is why: The number of offered daily deals is growing exponentially, while there are and will ever only be a very finite number of businesses. The latter curve cannot keep up with the former and, eventually, coupon offering websites will run out of new businesses to offer deals for.

Which leads us to the future: Coupons for individuals.

Eventually, all we will have is individual interaction and concepts to offer at remarkable discounts.

Deals will start to look like this:

Conversation with Tiffany Adams of Fremont, California: Regularly $40, now $20.
Motorcycle Ride to the Bart Station with Thomas Wood: Regularly $7, now $3.
Cousin Ryan helps you move to your new apartment in North Beach: Regularly $28, now $13.

…and so on.

The most intriguing part of this inevitable coupon-for-normal-life frenzy wont be the discounts but the monetization of every day activities.

Let’s say you want to go on a date with Emily. Timing is always the most important aspect of deciding when to ask her out, but now you’ll have to wonder, “should I wait for the coupon or pay full price now?”

Eventually, we’ll know the rough cost of everything, with every one. The long term effect of all of this is people finally admitting that sex is never free, though sometimes you can get it at a discount.

Baby Boomers of the Tramp Stamp Generation

Thomas Wood — Fri, 28 Jan 2011 07:45:22 +0000

The real draw of the “Baby Boomers” notion is in watching a massive generation shift from one phase of their life to the others. The hippies are all retiring, for example. For them, this means pot-heads getting older, Hendrix becoming very classic rock, and civil-rights feeling less like an issue, more like a history lesson.

This made me think of my generation. This will happen to us, too. All the crazy, young shit we’ve done, it’s going to carry on into old age. So, what’s the funniest thing about my generation’s inevitable old-age? Tramp Stamps.

No contest.

Eventually, all the tramp stamps will be old. This, naturally, is a result of all of the tramps being old.

That racy blonde you saw in a movie about college kids in Cancun? She has dementia…and a tramp stamp.

Your high-school crush, you know, the dangerous one, Jeanie? She has coronary disease…and a tramp stamp.

Mel, who used to frequent Delirium in the Mission? She has seven grand-kids…and one tramp stamp.

And it’s not just women. A lot of grandpas are going to look like real assholes too with the piercings and the tribal bullshit.

Consider all of the conversations now about the baby boomers, how worried everyone is about their impending retirement. They’re going to need a lot of health-care, a lot of social security, a lot of consideration. We’re going to have our own social implications too. They wont be so financial in nature: they will be subtle.

My grandmother used to tell me how handsome my grandfather looked in his military uniform and how he she blushed a little when he asked her for a dance.

Some day, America’s grandma’s wont seem quite so sweet.

Incidentally, if you’re wondering why I didn’t post more pictures of grandmothers with tramp-stamps, it’s because there aren’t any. I looked for, like, over an hour. But isn’t that the whole point? All of the tramp-stamps are still relatively young. How lucky we are, as a generation, to be the first to study the geriatric implications of tramp-stampery.

The History and Future of Friendship

Thomas Wood — Thu, 13 Jan 2011 22:25:25 +0000

In the beginning, nobody had more than two friends. Indeed, having even three friends was considered terribly unwise; the logic being that, though one could keep an eye on two people quite easily during a gazelle hunt, one was never too sure where the devil that third fellow had gone.

More often than not, due to these early days of chronic hunger and an unrepentant need for survival, that third fellow had actually snuck up behind you with something of a large boulder, intent on restoring the balance of friendship, as well as helping himself to your portion of the gazelle.

As society matured, so did its friendships. With the advent of letter writing it even became possible to maintain many friendships over great distances, thereby describing and sharing all the robust titillation of civilized city life.

This too, however, had its disadvantages, as many gentleman begin to suffer from a debilitating need to constantly resupply on costly paper and ink. Fearing the loss of their fortunes, men would be forced to challenge one another in great duels which would be resolved when one man had successfully killed another or either of them agreed to move to the country, a life which boasted such a vast emptiness of inactivity as to only require a mere three correspondences a year. (Woman, it should be noted, were not allowed friendships at this time, as it seemed immoral to subject them to the inevitable shootings.)

In modern times, we invented the Friendster, which beget the Myspace, which beget the Facebook, which beget the Twitter, all of which allowed us to represent ourselves online as more than mere screen-names. Truly, now, these are the friendships God had intended for us: instantaneous, efficient, and prolific. Through the online medium, finally, one could amass a record of friends, enemies, and acquaintances not known since the days of Charlemagne. (Charlemagne had hella followers.)

But even such bliss of endless contact could leave one wanting, as people began to feel the chaffing of one-too-many-friends. And everyone wanted something, wanted to show you something. And friendship became that shitty little brother of that poor kid you know who wouldn’t leave you alone. ”Always with the goddam show and tell, this kid!” And nobody was beaten for it, and not a booger was rubbed in its face. And so on it went, friendship chiding friendship.

Still, the draw to collect followers, the need to be heard, to be validated, eventually won out over any concerns of friendship irrelevancy. Soon, “friendship” became synonymous with “followers,” and “followers” with, “customers.” Gone were the days of true interaction. Friendship was now about market efficiency, about getting the word out. What was left was a system of “friendship” more akin to a million assholes all shouting in a stadium where no particular event was scheduled than any kind of rational networking.

Eventually, friendship gave way entirely, distilled, reduced, and decomposed down to a basic cry of narcissism. In this world, #grmmr gave way to the almighty #hash. Gone are the days where a new sentence is preceded by the polite double-space. And as the notion of politeness, of social lubrication gave way, meaningful interaction begin to subside. The consistency of friendship began to gum up, to coagulate, to congeal.

Friendship, then, is now less a fluid, responsive, and evolving medium, than a sort of self-perpetuating biomass of #lookatme.

This system will find itself in rise and decline, on and on, eventually burried under the ages, where it will sit, a mass of useless, semi-productive spit-up, until it compounds and contracts, and is drilled out, perhaps many millennia in the future, and refined, and distributed, where it will then fuel the engines of future friendships.

Islamagood

Thomas Wood — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 18:00:38 +0000

Islam needs to become the next great exercise fad.

It wont work to expect regular American folks to slowly develop a tolerance, understanding, and appreciation for it and its myriad followers. We need a gimmick.

Because America doesn’t like to understand; it likes to respond. We need it sold to us, placed on shelves at the check-out line, boxed for home consumption. We need it starring in a Showtime drama. We need to feel that this is a product for us. We don’t want to learn. We want to buy.

So here is my suggestion: make it as white friendly as possible. In short, make it an exercise routine. White folks f-ing love a good exercise program.

Exercise has everything a misunderstood religion needs to garner support: The asperation of sex-appeal, fun, little outfits to try on, and stretching. Because white people love to stretch…and burn. White people also love to feel the burn. It’s a religious experience. You have to try it!

And it wouldn’t take much work to develop the program. Islam already has a floor routine.

I’ll get a lot of hell for promoting religious gentrification but, really, tolerance begins by making things safe and a little bit hip.

This isn’t about America’s accepting actual Islam, just becoming more familiar with it.

An exercise routine gets it into our strip-malls. It get’s post-undergrad liberals heading abroad to study under the masters and bringing back all sorts of tolerant, bullshit rhetoric that everyone can feel super good about.

To use my own term, we need Islam to be a little more Sajak.

And you can’t get any more Sajak than with an exercise trend.