An Amoral Compass

On a scale of 1 to total(ed), how familiar are you with the Jeep Compass? Not at all familiar? I’m not surprised. Few people have run across/into this model of Jeep. You’re probably more familiar with the Wrangler, Cherokee, or even the Liberty. That’s why the Compass team at Jeep has embarked on one of the boldest marketing campaigns since iceberg lettuce conglomerates tried associative marketing with the Titanic.

The campaign goes something like this. You’re waiting at a stop sign on a Saturday thinking that you would have totally have talked to that girl at that party if she hadn’t been surrounded by people that night. And you probably should have done it any way, but it’s too late now although you know someone who knows her and maybe you’ll talk to them about her later. With this resolved, you move over the line to see around the bend in the road to your left. In this position you are perfectly poised to watch the Jeep Compass hydroplane, remarkably regain control, then hit you anyway.

As you sit there covered in glass you can’t help but marvel at how well the Jeep withstood the encounter. You sit there, shivering, as the rain and cold infiltrate your car all the while staring at the passengers in the Jeep whose engine is still running and who are warm and cheerfully awaiting the arrival of the constable.

Later on you step outside into the full force of the rain because the glass on the seats starts to dig into you after a while. There, you wait for your tow truck as the Jeep merrily zips off. And you can’t help but think you would have been better off if you’d been in that Jeep.

The obvious flaw in this campaign is that now you never want to drive anywhere ever again and you feel like you’re about to vomit every time you have to turn left without a traffic light to protect you from Jeep’s marketing team. Otherwise I think the next car I got would be a Jeep Compass. Plus, I know one that has a few scratches that the owner would probably let go pretty cheap. I’ve already got his name, address, phone number, driver’s license number, and VIN.

Do El Duel

I have been working on a review for a play I saw 2 weeks ago, and I was waiting to post it on Halloween (because the play is about a ghost) but it’s just not ready for eyes other than mine yet because it is not at all funny or interesting (my review not the play).

Luckily, an idea that is not only ready to be posted but is ready for pre-production leapt into my mind in the midst of some casual g-chatting when a friend said, “I think I've watched enough Monty Python in the last week to have duel citizenship.” To which I promptly responded, “Duel Citizenship would be an awesome show. Two people from different countries would have a duel and whoever won would get the other person's citizenship. At the end there would be one person who is a master dueler and a citizen of every country in the world.”

Because I’m sexist there will be a women’s bracket and a men’s bracket (Dual Duel Brackets). But because I’m open minded it will actually be based on your orientation, so if you are interested in men you will be in the men’s bracket and if you are interested in women you will be in the women’s bracket. If you lean towards bestiality you will be in the animal bracket. But don’t just try to get into this bracket because you think it will be easier. Remember that in this bracket you will also be going up against actual animals.

The format is a little something like this. Some music plays (Eye of the Tiger, Final Countdown, or Yackity Sax) and then out steps your hostess, Alison Brie (she may not be the most likely candidate but I think we all owe it to ourselves to help get her out of that dysfunctional, loveless, 1960s marriage and/or community college). Alison greets the audience and gives a quick rundown of last week’s events (“In the men’s bracket US fighter Laila Ali straight up murdered some Australian chick”) and then an intro for the main events (“This week Laila will face a Russian steel worker who has a wife and kids but responded a little too eagerly to the Mark Wahlberg portion of the bracket profiler. To be fair Mark shares a remarkable resemblance to his wife.”) Then the whole world sighs and falls in love with Alison all over again (not in a creepy, unrequited, stalker way because most of those people are actually in the animal bracket).

At the beginning of the fights we spin a wheel and that will determine the format of the fight (bare fists, boxing gloves, rapiers, guns, yo momma jokes etc). The show will not travel around the world but will instead take place in a neutral country. Not politically neutral but revenue neutral. We want to work in a country with a balanced budget so as to promote sound fiscal policy.

That’s what I’ve got so far. If any producers want to make any offers, just buy the idea, or set up a lunch with me and Alison please feel free to contact me. Producers who contact me by sending me their proposals written on many fifty dollar bills will be given precedence. Producers who contact me by sending Alison as a singing telegram will have their proposals accepted on the spot.

Time to Share

Today a cold chill covered my body as I realized the horrible truth; our celebrities are powerless to stop the violence between Israel and Palestine. Somehow the Israeli and Palestinian leaders are able to ignore the heartfelt pleas of the world’s most beautiful and melodic people. What they have done to impervious themselves from their siren song of peace we may never know. What we do know is that we must now look around and find a new hero to bring tranquility to the mid-east. The movie stars and music artists have done all they can and now we must look to an older, more powerful pantheon: the principles of the free market.

A brief history of the Middle East will be helpful in understanding what needs to happen next. I paraphrase the eminent historian David Barry who described the history of the Middle East, “A long time ago dinosaurs lived in the middle east. They died and were covered by sand and people who hated each other.” The principle problem is that there is a finite amount of land (including Jerusalem, the West Bank, and one of the few remaining Hardees) and two peoples who can’t agree on how, or whether, it should be divided between them.

The free market solved this sort of problem years ago. When thousands of the members of the American middle class were warring with the resort conglomerates for control of condos and duplexes, the market stretched forth its invisible hand introduced the Time Share. Time Share technology utilizes a flux capacitor to allow many different individuals to use the exact same piece of property during THE SAME YEAR!

This technology would be perfect for solving this land dispute in Jerusalem. For 15 days a year for the first 3 years and 20 days a year for each subsequent year, the Israelis will have Jerusalem during which time the Palestinians will have access to the West Bank. The rest of the year their time can be divided between Boca Raton, Las Vegas, and Vermont. Or they can use their points for cruises, flights, or pilgrimages to Mecca.

The plan will no doubt be complex and a hard sell, but the agents who sell these things are the toughest negotiators on the planet. These are people who have secured 50 year commitments from 80 year-old grandmothers on fixed incomes. This will not come without sacrifice. For months, American phones will stay silent during dinner time as every available telemarketer will be drafted into service with their auto-dialers concentrated on the holy land. But peace always comes with a price; a price that will probably be around 9,599 to get in and reasonable membership fees afterwards.

Crossing Over to the Future

For centuries it has been true that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Adam and Eve killed an apple and were exiled from the Garden of Eden. Failing to learn from this, Cain killed Able and was exiled from his lands. Failing to learn from this, Video killed the Radio Star and was exiled to basic cable.

And so for generations we have lived under history’s musty, iron fist. The few bold ones who struck out on their own soon meet with death, rejection, and indigestion; until recently, when the American education system invented a way around this archaic monster. The Cross-Credit.

The cross-credit was first discovered at a private school when a wealthy donor’s son failed to learn the rudiments of chemistry. The dean, who couldn’t give him an A and send him to the next chemistry class to fail again and didn’t want to upset his father, placed him in a botany class. “After all” he deaned, “science is science. And this kid will probably end up on drugs anyway so he may as well learn to grow the raw materials”. The boy fulfilled that prophecy and the cross-credit was born. It took years for anyone to pluck up the courage and use this method to get around a history class but now hundreds walk around with marginally more knowledge of literature and have not had to repeat their history courses.

The same principle can be applied to life after school. There is no need to call into remembrance those painful memories of the past; you just need to learn something from a vaguely associated school of thought. The woman who finds that she always dates jerks could analyze the past and learn the warning sign of the jerk, but this would require her to admit culpability on her part and cause her to leave the warmth and comfort of the blanket statement, “All men are jerks”. [Obvious sarcasm interjection: Yeah you really nailed us that time, there’s over 3 billion men in the world but with the impressive sample size of 7 you’re comfortable with that statement. Superb work. They’re all jerks. Especially that 58 year-old grandpa who is raising his orphaned grandchild: walking her to school, sitting in the cold to watch her practice soccer. That guy is probably the worst one.] Instead she can study the cross-credit about loving herself. Once she loves herself sufficiently, then people around her will feel that and also love her.

Then there’s the man who feels slighted by a string of romantic interests and could study the past and see that his philosophy towards interpersonal relationships is askew but that would mean he’d need to abandon his soothing mantra, “All women are crazy” [Obvious sarcasm interjection: Of course they are, how do they expect to put that many chemicals on their face and hair everyday and not have their mind affected? No person in their right mind wouldn’t want to get closer to an abrasive and emotionally stunted egoist.] Instead of a serious and difficult personal introspection after many a failed relationship, the man can learn to play on women’s insecurities and need for affirmation and never have to change himself.

It is seldom fun or personally gratifying to study the lessons of our past, so we should not do it. Better to find new and exciting lessons that will make the past irrelevant, putting it behind us where it belongs.