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It might seem that these three have nothing in common. Karl Marx, the “Father of Communism,” and the Girl Scouts whose motto is, “Be Prepared” truly have absolutely nothing in common. But, Direct Home Sales (read as Party-Lite, Pampered Chef, Amway, etc.) have somehow combined the least desirable qualities of both and armed them with overpriced goods. You laugh, but you should cry because they’re winning.
Due to time constraints and a constant fear of having my house raided by the elite Black Belt Brownies Squad I’ll have to summarize these schools of thoughts quickly. Karl Marx said, “We should all share the work and the reward.” Girl Scouts said, “Buy my cookies…please.” What Karl Marx had was a philosophical force and plan to take over the world but lacked a bunch of cute little girls tromping around with a red wagon selling cookies. (I would fear for capitalism if he had.) What the Girl Scouts have is a bunch of cute little girls tromping around with a red wagon selling cookies but lack a philosophical force and plan to take over the world. What each lacked the other had. An evil genius, Mr. Amway, saw that the two could be completed in each other. So, he consulted with his wife Mrs. Pampered Chef and a covert industry bent on consumption and destruction was born.
Perhaps I’ve lost you. Let me put this down on the level of Mr. Working Class (Karl Marx would want it that way). A common defense against communism in America for the last 200 years is played out as follows. You go to the office and your coworker says, “Hey! I’m lazy, so why don’t we share the work and split the paycheck.” You say, “No, because I’ll end up doing all the work and you’ll get half my money.” You don’t buy into this evil plan because it lacks two things: guilt and cookies. What happens when you replay this scene with the strategy from Mr. Amway (a.k.a Karl Marx in a polo shirt and no beard)? Your coworker comes to you and says, “Hey! I’m not doing well at this job, so I’m selling overpriced junk from my house. Do you need a taper candle for $30 it smells like a french poodle after the rain?” You say, “Sure…I’d love a candle.” In so doing you support their livelihood with half your paycheck, the wealth is redistributed and Karl Marx wins.
But, it’s not your fault. The Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts and booster club savings cards paved the way. It started with your coworker coming into the office saying, “My kid is a social outcast and can’t sell any cookies, would you buy some? It would mean the world to me and my misfit offspring.” You felt sorry for your coworker, sorrier for their child and your guilt said, “Sure, I’d love to buy some cookies.” It helped that the cookies tasted good and you needed more since they only put four in a box. I don’t think it’s not wrong for the Girl Scouts. Selling cookies door to door is a great way to be introduced to reality. Just hearing the word, “No,” can prove to be therapeutic. But, shouldn’t we reach a point in our lives where we say, “I’d like to do more than sell things out of guilt and towed by a red wagon.”
Perhaps it’s just time to say, “No.” With the enormous guilt that drives us to buy cookies and candles we could pay off the national debt! In 2007 we spent over $30 billion on this stuff! (Click here for proof) The guilt has become more complex and the wealth even thinner. So many innocent victims are caught up spreading the propaganda because of the “fabulous host gifts.” Only finding themselves obligated to go to everyone else’s at-home-socialist-party. We simply send the dollars spinning around the room while Karl Marx turned over in his grave and said, “Why didn’t I think of that?”
I’m not a member of PETA, not am I a tiger hugger (that could prove to be fatal). I just like zoos, it’s one of those dysfunctions you inherit from your family (and thankfully it won’t affect your liver). Part of the bailout in one of the recent gazillion dollar plans has been earmarked for unemployment. I would like to propose that they use some of that for unemployed zoo animals. I recently became aware of their plight from a CNN article, “Budget Cuts Force Bronx Zoo to ‘Fire Animals.’” What human couldn’t be touched by the thought of a giraffe at the kitchen table pouring over his bills and looking at the “Help Wanted” section of his paper realizing he is too tall for the workforce? Or an aardvark being turned down from job after job simply because he has no opposable thumbs.
Now one of my dreams is to have a zoo in Bowling Green and should I win a million dollars I’ll start an endowment for that very project. But, perhaps instead of an endowment we serve as the unemployment hub for zoo animals across the nation! Animals could load up in their wagons, gather their families and bring their hopes to Bowling Green, KY where a better life awaits them. We could start a vocational training center for animals here! We could train animals to provide tech support (don’t tell me you haven’t spoken to a chimpanzee before at the help desk). We could teach animals to paint much like the (painting rhino in San Diego, read about him here). This could work, now all that needs to be done is to divert money for that project. I’m asking that you write your congress person, call your senator and speak out for those who have no voice. Ask them to send some ‘pork’ out for the pork, penguins, peacocks and every other deserving zoo animal!
Brownies and toilet paper are all that made up my winter apocalypse survival kit tonight. I went to WalMart ahead of the storm not afraid of the storm but afraid of the lack of toilet paper in our house, with only one and a half rolls I was afraid I would be caught riding dirty (I’m not sure I used that last expression correctly but I heard it in a rap song once and it should appeal to a younger readership).
While at WalMart I thought I had missed the apocalypse as the shelves were cleared off of toilet paper, water and canned beans (it’s a vicious cycle). Apparently this is how the south prepares for an ice storm. I was also surprised to see people leaving the store with TVs, lamps and electronics and it occurred to me that perhaps as a native of California the land of natural (and not so natural) disasters I could offer some insight.
First and foremost, you wait until the middle of the disaster to get the TVs, lamps and assorted electronics as they’re a lot cheaper during the riot. Besides that the lamp won’t be real useful when the power fails. Allow me now to give you a five step plan to disaster preparedness.
Step one, identify your present resources. Fido might look cute now, but he’ll look better in the number five slot when the pantry goes bare. Check the garage, the closet, the kitchen, the bedroom, the crawl space and make sure that you have the following (this has been adapted from the department of homeland preparedness):
Step two, after you’ve identified your resources; identify your neighbors’ resources. Across the street my neighbor has two dogs, when the disaster drags on for days he’ll be viewed as a rancher to the masses. Also, keep tabs on your neighbors defenses, that extra gallon of water might not be worth fighting a sumo wrestler for it.
Step three, think through the aftermath. In California they’re called aftershocks, for this ice storm it’s a flood. What will one inch of ice on the road turn into? Water. Be prepared, get a raft.
Step four, think through the fallout. Make sure that you can justify your preparedness plan before a jury. Try gathering some friends together and suggest survival strategies to them. It’s a jury of your peers, so perhaps you’ll get lucky enough to have some of them on your panel.
Finally, gas up. Make sure you have enough gas to get out of the country if step four doesn’t pan out for you.
