Living My Dreams
This morning I had a chocolate chocolate-chip muffin for breakfast. And for lunch I had macaroni & cheese, chicken strips and Coke.
When I was six, this is pretty much what I envisioned adult life to be.
Last night some friends and I were sitting around drinking beer and, it goes without saying, discussing the Washington State system of taxation. Here in Seattle we have a sales tax, which is a total pain in the ass because (a) you have to pay it (lame), and (b) it means that your average item in The Dollar Store costs some ridiculous amount like $1.31 and you can’t figure out the real price of things without resorting to irrational numbers and you have to carry around your spare pennies instead of throwing them at children like you would do in other states. True fact: When 50 Cent was here in concert last week, he was legally obligated to perform under that name “67 Cent.” (Whoa, that joke was even worse than I had anticipated.)
Anyhow, we were wondering how much of sales tax revenue goes to health care programs. More every year, we guessed, since, statistically, Americas are becoming ever more out-of-shape. But you got to figure that a lot of that revenue goes to administrative costs and middle-men, not to mention that health care tends to be reactive rather than preventive. We decided that there must be a better way.
That’s we came up with this great idea for a General Health Tax: for every dollar you spend you must do a sit-up. Want the new No Doubt CD? No problem: fourteen bucks and two dozen sit-ups, please. Got a two pack-a-day cigarette habit? Well now you have a six sit-up-a-day habit as well. Just bought a brand new Ford Excursion? Fantastic. That will be 50,000 sit-ups over the next 10 years, plus 60 sit-ups every time you fill up the tank — BET YOU WISH IT DIDN’T GET ONE MILE TO THE GALLON NOW DON’T YOU SUCKA?!
I think we should pilot this plan in Washington state, and then extend it to the entire United States. Conspicuous consumption would go way down, people would have a great incentive to save, and America would quickly come to dominate the United Nations Council On Killer Abs. Plus, what tax payer doesn’t want the opportunity to check “no” to “Would you like to do three sit-ups for the Presidential Election Campaign Fund?”
Oh dear, quite frustrating.
Why am I not listed on my own blogroll? That is what I want to know.
Harbinger of Freedom
As Power Point presentations become ever more common and my dislike of meetings increases by the month, the words “End of slide show, click to exit” have rapidly become my all-time favorite phrase.