If I had real power

I would convince America to let me be its pool reporter for the new O.J. Simpson book and FOX television interview. It’s not a personal selfishness so much as a desire to keep the book publisher and television network from making any money off the exploitation of the murder. If we could convince the masses that it didn’t have to buy the book or watch the show, it might convince other money-grubbers to not try such sickness in the future. If just one person read the book and watched the interview, that person could report back on what was revealed and it would be over. Ratinggs and book sales would tank and we could all get on with our lives.

Fred Goldman, Ronald’s father, has already requested that the country boycott the further exploitation of his son’s death. The sad fact is, if a father’s plea isn’t going to reach the masses, neither will my appeal and offer to serve as the pool reporter. That said, I am more than qualified. As a long-time journalist, I have the credentials to do the job correctly. The summer I lost in 1994 and the months and months I lost during the trial qualify me as an expert.

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I would require makers of gaming systems to give their glassy-eyed minions a 30% discount if they already own the previous version of a newly-released product. I would require a 50% discount if the gamers own two prior versions of the system. Finally, I would require that anyone who camps out for three days to buy the latest gaming system (one that apparently won’t work with a goodly percentage of the prior system’s games) have their house robbed and fridge unplugged while they are gone. They can at least go ahead and go to Fileproto.com and play some emulators to ease their woes. Finally, I would require gaming companies to donate 5% of every sale to diabetes research and Jenny Craig.

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I would dictate that all families be required to keep at least one pound of Capocolla ham in their homes, just in case I decide to stop by.

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I would happily and without shame submit to a threesome with Norah Jones and Natalie Maines. My wife could come, too.

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I would make Ecco brand shoes the national (nay, international!) footwear. A phone call this afternoon made me realize I’ve started converting the discerning shoer-wearer. Now, just a few billion people to go.

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I would require all of you have a very good weekend.

Labels: Mental Massage