by the paper
STAFF OF MILLIONS SEVERAL
We at the paper are a little concerned about the economy. The stock market is crashing and rebounding in violent waves, people are losing their jobs and homes left and right, and the value of the dollar is declining too. And honestly, we have no idea, absolutely no idea, what most of this means. Does anyone really get the economy? We do know one thing: it’s up to the paper to bail out the country.
In the legendary words of Sammy Shred, “Legalize it, don’t criminalize it.” Now, the moral of that story is questionable, but the economic benefits of marijuana decriminalization are not. Not only does it make food taste better, make movies funnier, make video games harder and make sex better, but apparently, like any other commodity, you can buy or sell it for various prices. Now we here at the paper would never advocate any type of illegal behavior, but were pot to be legalized not only would it open a billion-dollar black-market economy to regulation and taxation, but it would reduce crime, reduce police budgets and reduce taxation. Furthermore, sales of HBO OnDemand, Cheetos and Lava Lamps would increase to levels that could possibly create entirely new micro-economies. Where once there were the great automotive cities of Detroit, there now would be the great Lava Lamp cities of Mesa, Arizona and the great pot capitol of Humbolt, California. Hollywood profits would skyrocket, and a relaxation of social aggression would in turn lead to more democratic presidents, who would reduce the deficit (look it up, Ciocci). Blacklight posters, laser tag and Xbox 360 sales would also skyrocket, creating new jobs in the arts, and possibly in everything else. Jack Johnson, Dave Matthews and Trey Anastasio of Phish would all become instant billionaires, they, in turn, would buy Beatles memorabilia and tye-dyed clothing. I doubt more stuff would get done, but the stuff that did get done would be cooler, man.
STAFF FAKE NAME
Fordham Fundraising…For the USA!
From what I’ve been reading on the news, it seems that this country’s economy is up a creek without a paddle. All these snooty politicians are biting off more than they can chew with their fancy “bail-outs” and “economic stabilization acts.” Our country should take a page from the book of our very own campus. In fact, a concerted effort between our government and campus would probably do the trick. And what do our clubs do when they need to raise money their swell velour tracksuits?
I smell the saccharin aroma of an international bake sale seeping into the doors and windows of Wall Street. I betchya those Frenchies would sure go for the aptly spelled “Crepes,” courtesy of Sodexo. The funfetti rectangles offered to the Nazis in FET’s latest production would fly right off our red and white checked table clothes.
The melodic strains of a musical talent show will be sure to revive our faltering banks. “Bassic Needs,” an all-male a capella group hailing from the U.S. Senate, has a version of Shania Twain’s “Man, I Feel Like a Woman,” which kills crowds every time. And all of us Americans know that former pageant queen Sarah Palin must have some sort of performing talent. Perhaps a collaboration with the Expressions Dance Alliance is in order?
Despite any effort to stay kosher, themed keggers always seem to draw in the big bucks on campus. Who is to say that the same tactic won’t work in our great nation? “Wall Street Bros and Main Street Hos.” “CEO Bros and Bailout Hos.” The possibilities are infinite.
STAFF BAKE SALE
Take a nationwide field trip to Australia
Alright everyone, it’s time to cut the bullshit. No more government bailouts, no more outrageous suspension-of-presidential-campaigns, no more Warren Buffet philanthropy. We’re going to roll up our sleeves and get down to business. The only thing that’s going to fix the economy is going to take a little bit of collective action and…a lot of traveling. Pack up your bags, ladies and gentlemen, we’re taking a nation-wide field trip to Australia. That’s right, all 300 million of us are getting on planes (don’t worry, we’re taking Jet Blue) and gliding on over to the Land Down Under. And there will be no special excuses or private flights for celebrities (get your ass on board, Paris Hilton). Remember when you took field trips in elementary school and you always got put in the group with the kid who didn’t shower and the chaperone who sounded like “The Nanny”? Yeah it sucked not to be with your BFF. But that’s what we need now. We have to do a little character building, a little bonding, a little exploring. And what better place to do that than Australia? Has anything bad ever happened in Australia? No, as a matter of fact, nothing has ever happened to anyone in Australia. They have beaches, and kangaroos, and koalas, and really cute accents. Also, they call barbeques “barbies,” and that’s just damn charming. So here’s what’s going to happen: get to your local airport by noon on October 10 with no more than two suitcases per person. There will be no fees or charges for the flights. We’ll get to Sydney by October 12 and we’re going to spend two weeks touring the country, meeting Aborigines, petting those little koalas, and eating bloomin’ onions. By time we get back, the economy should stop throwing its temper tantrum. You see, we’re really just playing hard to get, and if all goes as planned, the good times will boomerang on back.
While throngs of three-piece suit wearing Wall Street go-getters tremble before the roiling storm clouds of economic crisis on the horizon, this writer is sitting back and waiting for the rain to come.
Once that terrible storm comes and washes the value of the dollar down the drain, I will emerge from a tumultuous sea of inflation and save America and her precious dollar with this simple plan: I will consolidate the value of the dollar into one Mega-Dollar (one Mega-Dollar for every hundred dollars). Millions of thankful Americans will fall down at my feet and praise my brilliant understanding of the economy and I will humbly request to become King of America. The American people, so thankful for their salvation, will immediately grant me absolute power.
As king I will live in fantastic palaces and lead a life of debauched excess, building massive, shining temples to myself. Lost in royal opulence, I will grow neurotic and increasingly paranoid; I will become famous for appearing in the public in the nude, half-true rumors of unspeakable orgies involving midgets will diminish my reputation as a leader. I will become feared as a capricious and cruel dictator. I will become known as King Hailer the Angel Crusher… at my own request. While my sanity slips, so will my ability to lead as King of the land, and the economy will understandably tumble again. The people, weary of my apparent insanity and incompetence, will overthrow me in a bloodless coup and they will exile me to live in a small shack with a man named Harold Quaab XLII in Truth or Consequences, NM. The value of the Mega-Dollar will find itself in a free fall. And I will emerge from the economic fray and in hand with Harold like two radiant and resplendent phoenixes and together save America with the Supreme-Dollar. And we will lead as two kings.
All of these things I have foreseen.
Stereotypical Italian Plumbers
When the economy is in the shitter, there’s only one way to fix the situation. You call a plumber. That’s right, let’s have the Super Mario Brothers save the economy. God knows they sure as hell bailed out that princess enough damn times. Why not Uncle Sam too? Can’t you just see it now —Uncle Sam, bound and gagged, sitting in the dungeon of some roided up relic from the Cretaceous period when two Guido plumbers tripping mushrooms and shooting fireballs run in and save the day. Mario, clad in his best Soviet red, will lead the way through a gravity defiant labyrinth of green tubes as the two fearless faucet fixers hunt for the golden coins that will ultimately save Wall St. from the shelled iguanodon henchmen currently foreclosing on the Joe Six-packs and Hockey Moms of Mushroom Land. But what do plumbers really know about the economy? The answer: nothing. And neither do I. But they are used to dealing with shit up to their knees.