book for sale

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first,

thanks to everyone who has been reading throughout the years

second,

i’ve published a book of stuff from this site here.

(don’t worry. i left out all the really shitty stuff.)

please support the Benevolent Economy that we all hold so dear, and buy this book.

i am 30 years old, and although i have always dreamed of writing a book, i don’t know that i ever thought it would actually happen.

to be fair, i took the easy way out and self-published.

but whatever.

my words are in print, and i am happy about it.

so thank you very much for reading.

cheers to a better world someday… or right now.

whichever is fine.

sincerely,

image

your shameless author

motherfucking bullshit anthropocene

oh fuck. dude! fuck!

what’s your fucking deal, dude?

dude, fucking everything’s going fucking extinct!

no fucking way, dude.

i’m not fucking joking, dude. i’m reading about it right fucking now. fucking three-quarters of all species on earth are gonna fucking die off forever.

fuck you.

i’m fucking serious. fucking cheetahs, fucking apes, fucking bees and frogs and tons of other fucking shit.

that’s fucked. what the fuck are we doing about it?

not a fucking thing. 

well that fucking sucks.

fucking right.

fuck…

i don’t know though, humans are pretty fucking smart.

what the fuck is that supposed to mean?

maybe they can fucking figure it out before everything is fucking dead.

fat fucking chance.

maybe build a fucking generator that cleans all the fucking pollution out of the air and fucking cleans the oceans and shit. fucking elon musk this shit.

no fucking way.

why you gotta be so fucking negative, dude?

cause it’s fucking humans that fucking caused this fucking thing in the first fucking place.

maybe now that we know we’re fucking killing every fucking thing on earth, maybe we can fucking do something about it.

yeah, i fucking hope so.

fuck… why you gotta talk about that shit? now i’m all fucking depressed.

you think it makes me fucking happy? i feel like shit now.

dude, let’s go get some fucking food.

good fuckin’ idea, dude.

oh, did i tell you i fucking lost my fantasy football league? got fucking second to fucking hosk’s fucking girlfriend.

dude, that fucking sucks.

i fucking know, dude. fucking sucked major.

the sinner

forgive me father, for i have sinned.

yes, and what is it that brings you here, my son?

father, i’m sorry. what i’m about to tell you–i don’t know what came over me. i…

easy, now.

i wasn’t thinking. maybe it was the jet-lag. i don’t know what–

whatever it is, there is no way it won’t go unforgiven if you confess it and ask for forgiveness. i am here to listen. go on and confess, young man. it’s alright.

yes, well, you see i was out of town last week. i went to london for work. it was a long flight and i had to go straight to a meeting from the airport. the meeting was a couple hours, and i guess after being crammed into a plane and then a meeting right after i felt like walking and getting some air. so i started towards the hotel and then i saw this woman on the street corner.

ah.

it’s not what you think, father. although now i wish it was. she was poor and homeless. she was old, too, and dirty. i noticed her. i accidentally let my eyes look at her, i don’t know why. i guess that’s the first thing i needed to confess.

so you looked?

yes but i never look at them otherwise, i swear it. or i didn’t. i don’t know what it was that got me that day, but i looked even though i know it was wrong. still, i saw her and i looked at her face. and she looked just like…

yes? just like what?

my mother. her face was much darker, either from the sun or the dirt or both i don’t know, but she did. she looked just like mom. when we saw each other i really thought she was her. i even felt that she recognized me.

of course it wasn’t your mother, was it?

no, she wasn’t her at all. my mother was here, clean and at home. and she would have been so disgusted by this woman had she seen her.

yes, as we all are.

yes, i know that’s how i should have felt. like i said, i never normally even look. the few times i have looked i’ve felt the disgust and have confessed for even breaking the commandment.

that’s a good boy.

but, honestly father i haven’t even told you the worst of it.

dear. well go on and tell me.

well, when i saw her there i sort of stopped. like i said we looked at each other with a feeling of recognition. i looked at her and i must have smiled because she smiled at me too. i don’t know what it was that happened, father, but all of a sudden we were both just there. by that i mean it was like we were bonded. without saying anything at all. we just saw each other and it was like we had the same love–maybe even a deeper love–that i have with my mother. of course i know this sounds crazy. but it felt that way.

but how could that be? even if it did feel that way?

i know it couldn’t. i know i’m better than her. i know she doesn’t even deserve a glance from me, let alone what i gave her which was my acceptance. i can’t deny it. even if i tried. i know in my heart i accepted her. i wish i knew what i was thinking.

yes, well, did anything else happen after you two shared this…this ‘moment’?

i gave her my watch.

you did what?

i gave her my watch, father.

oh my. this is very bad.

i know, i know. please, just tell me what i can do.

this is very bad, my boy. you know that giving out anything to the poor is a cardinal sin.

i know, father.

you know that anything given to the poor is akin to murdering their own will to work.

yes.

and murdering a person’s will, that’s…

father, please! i’ve never done anything as awful as this.

that’s leading a disciple away from the benevolence of the Economy. and that’s furthering the sin which led them to squalor: entitlement.

yes.

do you think this woman, your second mother, will ever find her salvation in the free market now?

no.

how much longer will she suffer the torments of poverty because you thought she needed a hand-out?

i don’t know. i gave her the watch because i thought she could use the money to–

to do what? buy a meal? if you tell me you bought her a meal too, Economy help me, i’ll–

i didn’t. just the watch.

my boy, do you at least now see the momentum of our sins? one minute you’re glancing at a vagrant, and the next you’re committing economic heresy of the highest order!

i know father, but please! i am a faithful worker. i love the Economy. i hate the poor! i’ve confessed the awful deeds i am guilty of, now please let me be forgiven!

i cannot forgive you of this; only the Invisible Hand of the Market can rectify this assault on our beloved Economy.

but surely as an Economist you can do something!

you have confessed, and i have heard your confession. let us pray now and ask for your forgiveness:

oh holy Economy who are on Wall Street,

hallowed be thy name.

thy kingdom come,

thy will is done with Money

as it is in Free Markets.

give us this day our

way low taxes,

and starve all the lazy,

as we pull ourselves up by our bootstraps.

and lead us into temptation,

as we sell guns to the evil. 

for thine is the Money,

and Triple A credit rating,

with merciless debt forever,

Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

conventional wisdom

 

a note to readers:

i wrote this story as a sophomore in college (2006 or 2007) back when i was starting to lose faith in our democracy and still capitalizing letters. this is why some of the once futuristic dates already live in the past. still, it feels like an appropriate post for today given the season. hope you enjoy and, as always, god bless america.

-merk

 

America the Fucking Beautful

Debacle & Enlightenment

In the years and months leading up to the election of 2024 a single, hairy issue dominated the nation’s collective conscience. And it wasn’t war and it wasn’t education. It was none of the issues that so often dominated American politics throughout the Second Dark Age. After the Great Election Debacle of 2012 and the subsequent Enlightenment during the twelve years that followed it, the issues most Americans formerly considered “hot-­button” found themselves swept under the rug.

The Great Electoral Debacle, the sole incident that led to a total reformation of the electoral system, was simple really. Regina Millson was the early Democratic front­runner and to many Americans, she really was the perfect candidate. She had no blotches on her personal or public record and she had spent years in the Senate collecting both domestic and foreign policy experience. Yet it was then that her rival, a lesser respected candidate, Terry Rockland, Republican Governor of Mississippi, ferociously struck down any, and all of her political aspirations with one clean blow.

Some three weeks before the election, Rockland somehow came into possession of a series of super-­secret photos. All of them featured Mrs. Millson simply being herself. However, one of the photos pictured Mrs. Millson’s whole self. That is to say, it left far too little to America’s imagination. The photo which has been, and will be printed in every history book from the moment it was taken until eternity, is Mrs. Millson laughing as she steps out of her limousine while her mangy pubic hair had somehow managed to find itself freed from the dark recesses of her skirt, and out into the light of day.

Literally the second after the photo was first published (the leak had been handled with the utmost efficiency to ensure the most damage to Millson’s campaign) the entire world was getting its first glimpse of Mrs. Millson’s muff. Many were shocked, some were turned on, but one thing was certain: America was never going to be the same.

In the days after the Debacle, Rockland took a commanding lead. As a man, he wasn’t under the same scrutiny as Millson. After all, during the Second Dark Age men rarely worried about their curlies enough to warrant more than a bi­monthly trim­job. Yet, somehow, Millson’s camp had like­wise obtained a picture of Rockland’s wildly out of control bush. With nothing left to lose, Millson leaked the picture herself. She was eager to end Rockland’s career as quickly as he’d ended hers.

It worked. Within two minutes Rockland had lost his biggest supporters, not to mention his lead in the polls, in the middle of the pubic hair hysteria he’d helped create. The pundits went wild, the public was captivated, and all of America had been engulfed in the pubic hair hoopla.

Both candidates had seemed to be locks for their party’s nominations, yet now, three weeks later, their respective conventions were frenzied, scrambling to settle upon an agreeable nomination. After all, choosing a candidate that a whole nation could envision itself unifying behind has generally been a game rife with near hits or misses, and anything a candidate did could sway a close election. So there they were, massive conventions of public officials wondering what the hell they could do to win a spot in the White House. It was then that Representative Jerry Vernon spoke up to his cohorts.

“I, uh, well I have an idea. It’s a solution so simple I don’t know why we didn’t think of it earlier.”

Everyone in the room raised a ruckus at the very sound of Jerry Vernon’s voice. He’d never done more than provide the party with a warm ­body in the House. His simpleminded antics were well documented and even the party’s chairman wouldn’t go on the record to endorse him as anything more than, “A well ­meaning fellow.” Yet, here in crunch time, no one could resist the temptation to at least hear Jerry out. What the hell could it hurt?

“Well, after all this ruckus over a few stray hairs here and there, I’d say it’s pretty clear that the pube issue is a pretty important one to the American people.”

He paused for a second to make sure that people were still listening.

They were.

“So, uh, I… I just don’t see why we don’t get someone with a good lookin’ shrub.”

A silence loomed over the convention. Jerry stood uneasily waiting for some sort of response, but there was hardly a sound. Everyone in the room was intrigued, if not captivated. Could this seemingly brainless idea work? Was pube ­appeal really that important to America? Was there any other option?

A man in the back of the room stood up and started to clap, slowly and quietly at first. Then a little faster; a little louder. Jerry saw him, but couldn’t make out who he was, or what his exact motives for applauding were. Jerry continued to stand uneasily, his political future, for what it was worth, seemed to be hanging in the balance. The applause grew, and grew, and got louder,and louder, until Jerry stood at the front of a fervor.

Jerry just smirked a little at first, blushing. As the applause reached its pinnacle, Jerry made a conscious decision to enjoy this, his first moment in the party’s spot­light.

“YOU LIKE ME!!! YOU REALLY LIKE ME!!!” He yelled.

They did only somewhat, really, but they figured, “What the heck?” He’d provided an answer.

Throughout the night, the men of Jerry’s convention voted on Jerry’s idea. It passed. The “Pretty-­Pubes Platform” approach to nominating a presidential candidate, as it was dubbed that evening, was voted into party policy.

This approach was a good one in theory, but there was an element of this plan they’d somehow overlooked. Who there had pretty pubes? What does America want in a Presidential pubic area? These concerns were voiced to the party chair. He didn’t know either, that or he didn’t want to say. Either way, every man in the room was silently coming to one conclusion.

“I guess, well, I guess we’ll just have to single out those with the best looking bushes.”

Again, it was a simple solution. So that’s what they did.

The members of the convention first asked if there were any present with, what they considered, a visually pleasing region. The hands came up slowly at first. It was awkward at first, but hey, this is the presidency. Why shouldn’t they expose themselves for a chance to become the most powerful man in the world?

The field started large but shrank quickly, for apparently there weren’t too many members of the party who paid special attention to such things. The parade of possible candidates passed across the stage, in front of all of their colleagues, dropped their pants, and waited to hear if they had a shot at the nomination. So it went, old Congressmen examining other old Congress men’s nether ­regions in all their glory into the early hours of the morning.

Finally, a decision was made. It was Jerry Vernon. His pubes were regarded by his colleagues as nothing short of immaculate: well-­shaped, clean­-cut, All­-American. With a little grooming, the party thought, they could turn this good ­looking bush into the face of a nation.

They did. Jerry Vernon was President for four years, and his pubes served him well while in office. He had changed the nation, not to mention the free­ world. It wasn’t long before everyone who held free ­elections began to follow in America’s footsteps. The Second Dark Age as it came to be known, was over. The Enlightenment had come by way of the legendary Jerry Vernon.

American politics would never be the same.

Epilogue

The election of 2024 was fast approaching. The two party system was still intact, yet the parties had changed with the times as they’ve often done throughout history. The election’s front ­runner was J.R. Fuzz of People for Unsightly Bush Elimination, or P.U.B.E. for short.

He’d been a political superstar since he unveiled his immaculately smooth pubic region. It glistened in the lights of the conventions and all of America was sure that he was going to become America’s next president.

His closest competitor was Nina Von Deutcsh. She wasn’t really European as her name would suggest, but she had the world’s greatest landing strip. Anyone who saw it was literally entranced. Some say she insured her strip for 10 million dollars. Others said it was more like 100 million. Either way, Nina, like J.R. had become a phenom after her and her pubes were spotted at the Las Vegas strip­club where she was working.

Nina represented A.S.S. or Americans Standing for Shrubs. Coming into the conventions, there was little doubt about what the future held for American politics. J.R. Fuzz seemed to have a stranglehold on the nomination and the Presidency. But then he had a mishap.

Upon revealing his bald and beautiful pubic region, J.R.’s pants accidentally slipped all the way down around his ankles. Hurriedly he covered his crotch, or the little amount of his crotch that America hadn’t seen. He quickly turned around and bent to grab his trousers when the crowd behind him let out a collective groan of disgust.

J.R. Fuzz’s asshole, a brown­eye in all it’s glory, was staring the American public in the face. Someone in the crowd turned to the person sitting next to them and said, “You know? It kind of looks like a dirty balloon ­knot.”

#70/12-30-2014

my top-ten top-ten lists of 2014

10- usa today’s top-ten list of top-ten lists

9- people magazine’s top-ten celebrity top-ten lists top-ten list

8- us weekly’s top-ten celebrity’s top-ten celebrity top-ten list

7- the new york daily news top-ten reasons why top-ten top-ten lists still matter

6- the a.v. club’s top-ten reasons why top-ten indie bands still deserve top-ten status on top-ten list top-ten lists

5- the wall-street journal’s top-ten list of top-ten moneymaking strategies in a top-ten list world

4- buzzfeed’s top-ten reasons why we hate top-ten top-ten lists

3- the washington post’s top-ten top-ten lists of top-ten items at the top-ten of the nsa’s top-ten list

2- the harvard review’s top-ten top-ten lists disseminated by the top-ten news organizations in the top-ten markets by the university’s top-ten list making top-tenners

1- nasa’s top-ten reasons why they’re still working furiously to escape into cold, vacuous and deadly space despite the fact that no top-ten life exists

#57/12-18-2014

Dick Cheney Still Clinging to Childhood Dream of Lasting World Peace

Washington DC-

Citing his desire to ‘see all the children of the world tucked safe into a warm bed every night by loving parents’ with ‘a school-book by their pillow’ and ‘a full tummy to boot,’ a dough-eyed Dick Cheney made an impassioned speech on behalf of world peace before a crowd of supporters gathered outside a DC area food-bank.

‘Believe it or not,’ said the former Vice President, ‘I was a child once. Of course, I’ve grown up. But I’ve never lost sight of my dreams. Dreams of living in a world where people treat people peacefully, justly and kind. Where we unite as a planet under one flag and sing freely of our love for humanity.’

‘What would be so great, what would be so miraculous,’ said a visibly excited Cheney, ‘would be knowing that peace was only possible because it took all of us to achieve and maintain it–world peace–together!’

‘I mean, can you imagine?’ added the former Chairman and CEO of Halliburton as he teared up with joy. ‘Our children would be so proud. Our parents would be proud. Our neighbors would be proud. Our planet would be proud. And we would be too!’

Throughout his speech, Cheney made frequent reference to ‘compassion and empathy’ as ‘the tools needed for us to build a better world.’ Tools, Cheney said, he’s ‘tried to pull out of the tool-belt every single day.’

‘The world has a home, an education, and food for every man, woman and child regardless of race, color or creed. As Americans, we can lead the world by our example. If,’ said Cheney, ‘we decide we’re willing to try a different approach.’

The crowd of supporters, an estimated two-hundred peace-activists, students and shelterees, cheered loudly throughout Cheney’s impassioned speech.

‘Mr. Cheney is exactly right. We can do this if we decide that it is what we want,’ said university student Sanjahar Patel. ‘Call me crazy, but today I actually believed in a politician!’

‘I hope he nails his speech onto the doors of Congress tonight just to send them a message,’ added Patel.

Cheney concluded his speech by saying, ‘I do what I do because I want to help the world become a better place. I can only do that by speaking on behalf of peace and by limiting the violence in my footprint.’

‘I’ve eliminated my carbon footprint by driving a Prius and recycling everything I can get my hands on, so why couldn’t I eliminate the violence in my footprint in the same fashion? All it would take is doing good by others and following the Golden Rule.’

‘I know it sounds wild,’ Cheney added, ‘but I’ve always been the one with sugarplums dancing in my head.’

Cheney, often regarded as America’s leading human rights activist, was visibly distraught when he began speaking on current wartime atrocities, international human rights violations, environmental concerns and corruption at nearly all levels of government.

‘Dark clouds do appear,’ he said. ‘But we must never give up hope. We must never stop working towards peace. Rainbows will appear from behind the clouds, and they will bless us if we seek them out.

‘Maintaining a state of peace requires the same vigilance it takes to maintain a state of war. Only it requires a lot less lying,’ he said with a warm chuckle.

#44/12-4-2014

Market Values of Thoughts and Prayers Bottom Out

New York- Shareholders suffered through another abysmal showing of Thoughts and Prayers (TNP) Wednesday. Analysts attribute the stock’s poor performance to an endless spree of tragedies occurring across the country, resulting in an increased market saturation and waning investor demands.

The stock, once considered a blue-chip investment by analysts, saw its share prices drop another 18% to an all-time low of $1.29.

Floor-trader Bill McEwan went to work Thursday looking to dump his remaining shares.

“I don’t know what will happen today, but i’m sure it’ll be something crappy. next thing you know Obama, Congress, and media outlets will drench the market with ‘Thoughts and Prayers’ for grieving family members,” McEwan said. “and that’s not going to help me dump the rest of this godforsaken stock.”

Though Wednesday is certainly a low-point for the stock’s price, some argue that the decline has been steady. Sylvia Moore, whose son Deion was killed while in police custody back in October, discovered first-hand the value of Thoughts and Prayers.

“When Deion died, Thoughts and Prayers were heaped upon me and my family. Everyone, even the President, offered me some of their Thoughts and Prayers. People said that’s what you get when something bad happens. But I went to cash it all in and I couldn’t even put a wreath on his grave for the price of that garbage.”

Economists agree that the outlook for Thoughts and Prayers gives speculators little encouragement.

“It’s basic economics. There is little room for optimism regarding a rebound for these share prices,” said Harvard Economist Bob Rindell. “What investors want is an increasing demand, not a lack thereof. We’ve seen it for months: people are just not buying Thoughts and Prayers any longer.”

Rindell added, “Trends have indicated that Thoughts and Prayers can flourish in a stable nation and in periods of sustained integrity and honesty. We’ve seen that before. But this is the digital age. Everything crappy that happens is videotaped and broadcast. It’s hard for investors to feel confident that investing in Thoughts and Prayers can return any kind of value. Most Americans have witnessed others fall victim to the stock’s once mighty allure only to be left with nothing.”

“Especially,” Rindell said, “Now that the nation’s leaders shill these worthless shares with a rather shameful tenacity. In reality, all they’re doing is saturating the market with garbage.”

“I doubt it will get any better,” agreed trader Bob McEwan. “Maybe I’m being pessimistic, but like I said, I’m jumping ship. I’ll probably put all my faith in body-camera stock. that’s going to be huge. And I always like buying Lockheed-Martin. I’ll probably buy some combination of the two.”

“I think we may be witnessing the end of an era,” said Rindell, adding, “and that’s just sort of sad.”