Monday, June 13, 2011

No, We Can't Think of a Single Reason Why Anyone Would Want to Vote for Us, But, So What? What's Your Point, Exactly?

ASSESSMENT OF THE HIYLH PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN

(This Memo not to be leaked!)

To the Campaign Manager/Cook/Cat-sitter:

The initial dismal projections for our electoral chances were, evidently, far too optimistic and will have to be re-calibrated. The news is even worse than was reported by the Campaign's one paid operative (who, by the way, has been AWOL for the past 72 hours together with the "retainer" funds he demanded upon being hired, only about an eighteenth of which had been earned as of the date of his disappearance).

The analysis we have been able to stitch together from the scraps of paper we found under a half-eaten biali on the windowsill next to his desk, evidencing his occasional forays into the real world, indicates that we do best among those "trending apathetic."  While that may seem to be a sliver of a silver lining in an otherwise ominous storm cloud of political self-destruction, apathetic people do not vote. Thus, even with the faint outlines of a pulse registering from the apathetic group on the Like-o-Meter (which measures, among other things, interest in our candidacy), we are still likely to get trounced under every possible scenario.

Here are some raw statistics on our Favorables/Unfavorables:

Among likely Republican voters, we are a laughingstock. Democrats would regard us as a nuisance, were they to give us any thought at all. Tea Party voters would rather get poked in the eye with a sharp stick than utter our name. Ditto, Independents.

We do slightly better with women voters than we do with men voters. As a group, women voters are most likely to want to see us relegated to the back of an immense line at the Registry of Motor Vehicles, only to discover, when reaching the counter, that we have filled out the wrong form, forcing us, like Sisyphus, to go back to square one and start all over again.  

We have alienated all major ethic and religious groups, as well as atheists, agnostics, and astrologists.

The unions hate us.  Business (big + small) hates us. Wall Street hates us. Main Street hates us. Hollywood hates us. Detroit hates us.  Academia hates us. So do the trial lawyers, the medical establishment, and all blue and white collar workers. We are hated in the cities, the suburbs, the exurbs, and rural areas.

The press can't stand us.  We have been contacted by a grand total of one radio station which sent us twenty-five dollars in exchange for our promise to stop calling every 12 minutes to demand to be interviewed. Twenty-five dollars happens to coincide with the sum total we have so far raised from any outside source, leaving us to consider that if we are sufficiently annoying  in enough markets, we might be able to replicate these results. There are, of course, newer and less expensive ways of getting our message out, such as so-called social media.  But no one here can remember any of the passwords, and we have been locked out of all the sites because of too many failed attempts.  Besides that, as the manager from the aforementioned radio station put it to us so succinctly -- we don't have a message,   just an "idiotic" slogan.

Speaking of which, our bumper stickers came in from the printers this morning.  Because of your insistence that the lettering be black on a dark blue background, no one can read them. At best, they resemble nothing more than a smudge, even close up.

As should be evident at this juncture, fundraising has been an unmitigated disaster.  We have about as much a chance of qualifying for matching funds from the Federal Election Commission as we do receiving a pleasant surprise under our pillow from the Tooth Fairy.  Indeed, the Tooth Fairy is now giving us better odds.

Suffice it to say that these findings do not bode well. Renouncing our citizenship and seeking political asylum in a foreign country with a friendly potentate is beginning to look less like the joke we intended it to be when we first told it to the mechanic who responded to our request for roadside assistance (even though our club membership had expired), and  more like the viable exit strategy we have been grasping for ever since we launched this venture. Of course, some us had an inkling that things were headed in this direction when you announced to everybody on Day 1 that our first order of business would be to brainstorm about themes for a "rollicking good" concession speech.

There are no campaign events planned for the immediate future, or, for that matter, ever.  This should give the staff plenty of time to sit around and ponder what it would be like to do something productive with their lives for a change, such as look for a real job.

Happily, and despite all of this, everyone here has agreed to slog on.  At least as long as the stash of Little Debbie Cakes® holds out.

"Together, we can't do any worse."


Thursday, June 9, 2011

Resistance is Futile. So is Futility. So is Infutility.

We're making a few changes to your account. These changes are explained here. Well, "explained" may be too strong a word.  But they will be listed, and you are free to read them as many times as you would like:

(1) Your interest rate will now be traded openly on the Hang Seng Index. It may fluctuate wildly, particularly if people in the Third World get all riled up and start burning tires.

(2) We reserve the unilateral right to sell your personal data to the highest bidder. You give us permission to do so simply by being you.  You need not do anything else and you need not contact us!

(3) We may, without notice to you, disseminate intimate details about your personal life on the Worldwide Web.  This includes photos and the "insights" you scribble on the inside front covers of books after tossing back one too many shots of bourbon to numb the pain of being jilted by somebody you could have sworn was beginning to show some interest.

(4) We may change your account number (and feign ignorance that we have done so) while you are in the middle of a heated phone conversation with a customer service representative complaining about a fraudulent charge.

(5)  We may not resolve fraudulent charges in your favor if you seem guilty.  You have kind of a guilty countenance.  Don't you think so?

(6)  If we decide that your self-image is too high, we may lower it by declining a transaction you intended to use to make a big show of your magnanimous superiority to a particularly-loathed in-law in front of everybody who matters.

(7) We may imitate your voice, call up one of your old flames, and say something that would make you want to crawl under the bed for several days if you ever found out.

These changes will appear on your next statement and take effect immediately.  You can't opt out.

You may have questions.  Everybody does.



Sunday, June 5, 2011

We interrupt the space aliens broadcasting through the fillings in your teeth to bring you the following important message...

Kids, are you feeling lethargic and ignorant? Don't be alarmed. Try Dr. Brenner's Red Heifer Mysterious Energy Soap.  It makes you knowledgeable, yet mysterious! It gives you a super-charged jolt of energy! It defoulifies those hard-to-reach places, such as your mouth! It gets you up off the couch and out of the house! It's biodegradable! Can also be used as shampoo, a tincture, a salve, and a poultice! Great for firing up the ol' olfactory memory banks! Pick some up today! Available wherever mysterious energy soaps and tinctures are sold!  And now, back to our program...

Welcome back.  This is your host, Cousin Stevie.  (We're not real cousins.  We're not related and I don't know you.  "Cousin Stevie" is my radio persona, only). Today's guest, P.M. Mandelbaum, was wandering around outside looking for a crevice, but he stumbled inadvertently into our broadcast booth instead, so now we're interviewing him.

Cousin Stevie: Sir, How would you describe your philosophy?
PMM:  I guess it's a little Zen.


Cousin Stevie:  And what is Zen?  What does that mean to you?
PMM:  I have no idea what Zen is.


Cousin Stevie:  Then why do you say that Zen is your philosophy?
PMM:   Of all the philosophies, it's the easiest to pronounce.  And spell.


Cousin Stevie:  Do you have any other criteria for choosing a philosophy?
PMM:   No.  Just those two.

Cousin Stevie:  Would you say, then, that in appropriating an epistemological discipline, you have bored through the meta-levels of evolved consciousness deep into the psychic construct to posit an approximate model of the origins of cognition?
PMM:  Would I! Except, instead of "bored through the meta-levels," I was going to say "exfoliated the derma layers."  But other than that, you took the words right out of my mouth.  Kidnapped them, you might say.


Cousin Stevie: Why don't we take a few calls from our listeners? Hello, you're on the air with Cousin Stevie.  (We're not real cousins.  We're not related and I don't know you.  "Cousin Stevie" is my radio persona, only). What's your question for our guest, Caller?

Caller 1:  


Χι. Ωουλδ υου υσε βλεαχ βιθ κολορφαστ, ορ δο υου νοτ τρυστ θε λαβελ?

PMM:  What's that, you say? Bleach with a mixed laundry load of colored and whites? That's flirting with danger, my friend.  I wouldn't go there.

Cousin Stevie:  Thanks for that, caller. We have time for a couple more.  Hello, you're on the air.  What's your question for our guest?

Caller 2:  ವೆನ್ ಥೆಯ್ ಸೆ, "ಇಟ್ ನೆವರ್ ರೈನ್ಸ್, ಬಟ್ ಇಟ್ ಪೌರ್ಸ್," ಇಸ್ ದಿಸ್ ಅ ಕ್ರೊಕ್?
PMM: "It never rains, but it pours?" I never really understood that, either. I just...I don't really agree with it.  It puts me in mind of salt.

Cousin Stevie:  Thank you, caller.  Hello, you're on the air.  What's your question?

Caller 3: Thanks for taking my call, Cousin Stevie.  Could we be related?

Cousin Stevie:  We're not related and I don't know you. 

Caller 3:  OK, OK.

Cousin Stevie: "Cousin Stevie" is my radio persona, only.

Caller 3:  OK.

Cousin Stevie: Don't come to my house.

Caller 3: Oh, alright.  

Cousin Stevie:  What's your question for our guest? 

Caller 3:   Just this. Whenever I drive through a residential neighborhood, and I see a sign that says "Slow Children,"  I'm not sure whether they want me to reduce my speed, or whether, as a public service, they're just telling me that the kids on that block are dim-witted.  Thoughts?
PMM: Well, I can't be certain,  but I would have to guess it's a little of both. Sometimes, the signs say, "Drive Slow Children." I guess it's a warning that you should skedaddle before you get accosted by a nincompoop on a tricycle. It's like one of the other oft-misunderstood signs: "DANGER(?) NO(!) SWIMMING(!). Municipalities, as cost-cutting measures, often omit the punctuation (I supplied them in this example), and that's why people sometimes get confused.

Caller 3: Thank you.

PMM:  Go jump in a lake.  It's perfectly safe.

Caller 3: Thank you very much.

Cousin Stevie:  Thank you, caller.  And thank you for stopping in, Mr. Mandelbaum.  This has been somewhat engaging.

PMM: Not at all. 

 Cousin Stevie:  Yes it has.

PMM: No, I mean, "You're welcome." 

Cousin Stevie:  Thank you. 

PMM: Not at all.  

Cousin Stevie:  You're welcome.

PMM: Somewhat
  
This is Cousin Stevie saying "goodbye for now."   Remember. We're not real cousins.  We're not related and I don't know you.  "Cousin Stevie" is my radio persona, only.

PMM:  Can I please wake up, now?
 

Friday, June 3, 2011

The Showbread Diet

Why do so many people stick to this diet? Because in 27 states and 4 Canadian provinces, it is now a Class B felony to cheat on it. Those who have done so refer to it as the "Big House Diet."  Of course, it takes no small effort to get the Legislature to see things your way.  Accordingly, we, ourselves, sometimes refer to our program as the "Greased Palms Diet." But never to its face.

These are the four phases of the diet: Seduction, Suction, Reduction, and Metuchen.


In Seduction, the body enters a state of suspended animation, the mind willingly suspends disbelief, and a man in a clown suit is always showing up and quoting from Parashat Emor. When dizziness sets in, you have either reached a oneness with the Source, or else you need an aspirin.  In the likely event it is the latter, it is helpful to have some on hand.

During Suction, your body begins to rebel and clamor for a purge. Purging is a natural consequence of this phase, and generally follows fast on the heels of trumped up accusations and show trials. Shortly thereafter, nostalgia sets in, followed by amnesia. We admit that this phase makes no sense, and we have no idea why it is in the diet.

Tempting though it may be to suppose that Reduction is exactly what it sounds like, wrong on you!  It is pronounced Re-due-see-ohn.  This is to keep you on your toes.  Where we can see you.

We have heard from many of our subscribers who thought we named the fourth phase as a kind of New Jersey joke.  We told them "no, that is just a coincidence."

We lied.

The following foods are permitted on the diet:  chicken, chicklets, chicory.  Chicanery is never allowed on the diet. Cheekiness is permitted during the Re-due-see-ohn phase.

The diet only works if you purchase our companion book, cards, scale, and fun house mirror. We guarantee that you will see results immediately in the fun house mirror. This is the distinguishing feature of the regimen. No one else can say this without getting a cease and desist letter.

Do not be lulled into the false sense that everyone is sick of hearing about your diet.  The opposite is true!  They want you to chat about it incessantly. By name.  Especially to yourself while waiting on a long line to get into the Modigliani exhibit.

The time to start this diet is now.  There is no time like the present, except for the present.  But even during other times it is never too late to embark on this adventure.  In the past it may be too late, but we are not prepared to concede even this point in its entirety.

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FDA rules require us to disclose that this diet is the subject of litigation in New Jersey.