Reg and Syd: Triumph of the (Dollar) Bill

Trump is the consequence, not the cause, of what we are now experiencing. He is the culmination of at least 50 years of a certain kind of neglect. And I say this very personally, because I was part of this failure. […] I think it is fair to say there has been, in America, a failure to appreciate the importance of democracy, the importance of holding back big money. Because as inequality has gotten worse and worse, the middle class has by many measures shrunk. That is an open invitation for corruption. We see more and more big money undermining our democratic institutions.

– Robert Reich, New York Times Newsletter, 27 July 2025


“I gather Mr Reich is selling a book, Syd?”

“Of course, Reg. Why else would he be on the interview circuit?”

“To tell his paying customers what they wish to hear instead of what they need to know? To teach them to point fingers instead of handing out mirrors and telling people to look into them?”

“You see, Reg? Mr Reich did take Marketing 101.”

“So he could be king of his little hill instead of doing something useful, like making money for shareholders as well as himself? How impressive. How much democracy do you permit in your companies, Sydney?”

Reginald! How can you even suggest such stupidity?”

“Precisely. You rule the roost, or the bankruptcy court does. And why is that so?”

“Because, when it comes time to buy stuff, your pronouncements about how you run your business mean nothing. Your prices, and your ability to keep stock on hand, and your ability to convince people that they’re getting value for their money, are what matter.”

“Uh huh. Companies that operate on democratic principles, unless they’re got a market cornered or otherwise have been extremely lucky, cannot deliver prices or supply or value or profits that meet market expectations. And down they will go. Democracy in government? Bah! How can people think that what doesn’t work to stock their stores and deliveries can possibly work to deliver political solutions?  If people looked in their closets, and recognized where all their stuff came from and how it came to them, and decided to act according to their stated principles instead of their wallets, we might be in trouble. But it’s not going to happen. The wallet will win every time. The companies that operate as autocracies will win. Every time. And those who think otherwise, and are looking for someone to blame, will find it by going into their bathrooms and looking in the mirror. Because the blame is there, and noplace else.”

“That’s not a message that customers will wish to hear.”

“Which is why we don’t tell them that message. We tell them about all the choices we offer. We tell them about how wonderful our products are, and how wonderful all their neighbors will think they are for buying them and showing them off. We tell them how passionate our employees are for our products and for being of service to our customers – and our shareholders, for keeping their salary and benefit demands within the bounds of our profit projections.

“Mister Reich thinks his generation has “come up short” on its aspirations? They’ve been coming up short from their Day 1 by putting their pie-in-the-sky selfish projects ahead of business realities, by thinking that the energy subsidies they were counting on to sustain their dreams would last forever, for thinking that the population pressures that they allowed to rage unchecked would not eat up all the surpluses they were counting on to sustain the lifestyles that were no less egregious than the ones they accuse us of having. You remember that science station that was all up in arms about climate change, a decade or so ago? Is it still there?”

“It is, Reg, and no less an eyesore now than it was then. It’s probably not going anywhere, despite our Donald’s best efforts, because there’s still enough money from folk who believe in their mission, or who like to watch people play with starfish, to keep them going for awhile. But it’ll be no threat to us. It mostly serves retirees who spend their time trying to remember why they’re there, or were ever there, and kids who come to write poems about seal pups. The climate stuff was over and done well before Donald was restored to the Presidency. There was a lot of screaming and yelling when he pulled the USA out of the global climate accords, and, as you probably can guess, they had no clue that they themselves commanded the pullout.”

“A.I.?”

“Got it in one. The same people who were doing the hollering were using ChatGPT to write their papers and computer programs, in complete ignorance of the fact that the energy needs of A.I. double down on the carbon demands of things like cars and airplanes. Of course, the parking lot is always full, and the delivery trucks are in and out of there constantly, supplying the trinkets on demand that they demand constantly.”

“How many times have we said it, Syd? It doesn’t matter what you say. It matters what you do. Your actions match your words, or you can prepare to have your words be ignored. At your own behest. You know, I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Need to wet your whistle?”

“Some time ago. I presume your wine cellar is no worse than it was?”

“I invite you to come find out with me.”

Posted in current events, politics, satire, We the People | Tagged , , , | Comments Off on Reg and Syd: Triumph of the (Dollar) Bill

Dude and Dude: Fat. You. Us.

Late one fine virtual afternoon, as the dinner hour approached …


“Who you callin’ fat, dude?”

ain’t callin’ ya nuthin’, dude. Now, tha doctor …

“Yeah, dude, doctor is right. Docin’ my paycheck, as if ya didn’ need a microscope ta see it afore he got through wit’ it. Didya see tha prices on tha meds he wants me ta take?”

“Well, that’s one way ta be sure ya cut down on yer caloric intake.”

Ack! Don’ you start in on tha fancy lingo, dude. An’ keep OC outa this!”

“Uh huh. Good luck wit’ that.”

“An’ since when is starvin’ good fer my health? I ain’t a drug company, so I don’ need money?”

“Dude, don’ give tha President enny more idees than he’s already got, yeah? But tha medicine man’s gotta point, hah? Ya wanna be less, so’s ya don’ havta work so hard luggin’ yer donkey around tha place, ya gotta, like, chow down less.”

“But whatta we gonna do wit’ this food in tha fridge? We can’t let it go ta waste!

“[…] heh heh …”

Shaddap! We got leftovers in here, dude. An some a it’s good stuff. Even whut you cooked. Miracles do happen, I guess. It’s all gotta be eaten!

“No it ain’t.”

“Yeah so!”

“No it ain’t, dude! It’s gotta be ea-nine, yeah?”

Whut?

“Ya see? 10% off a’ready.

“O … my …”

Amirite?

“Ya wan’ me ta lose weight this badly?

“W’seven. An’ it ain’t jus’ me.”

“Dude …”

“I’ fact, if’n I heard tha doc aright, we’re talkin’ more about w’five as yer target.”

Du-UUUUUUUDE!!!!

Wha-AAAAAaat?!? If’n I wuz you, ya wanna lose w’five, ya’d better start yer diet like, right now.”

“Tell ya what I’m a-gonna do wit’ yer diet, dude.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna kill it!!”

Posted in Dude and Dude, health, humor, satire | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on Dude and Dude: Fat. You. Us.

Amoeba’s Lorica: Meme-ories 65 (What Green Really Means to Us)

Go to the ant, you sluggard


The scientist, in his jeans and flannel shirt, looked across the meeting room table at his visitor, a 30-something man in a blue suit jacket and trousers, white shirt, red tie, and bulldozer jaw. He was a key adviser to the Board that ran the oceanographic research organization to which the scientist belonged, and he was on a mission. The atmosphere was not collegial.

How much did you say it was that we invested in this microscope facility downstairs?”, he demanded.

“Around $2 million, as you’ve seen in the spreadsheet”, the scientist responded, with passive aggressive calm. “All of which came from federal grant money, as per usual for our institution.”

“And how often does it get used?” came the pointed followup.

“When we need it”, the scientist responded, deliberately vague, fearing what was coming and doing as little as possible to bring it on.

His hopes were dashed. “9 to 5 Monday through Friday?”

“Not so often.”

Why not?” The man in the suit’s tone was accusatory.

“Because“, the scientist’s word were slightly more heated, “we have many tasks that we promised to accomplish in order to get the not-enough funding to run those microscopes, and we do not have the hands to do them all. We plan carefully how to get the most use out of the machines for the least amount of time spent. The rest of the time, they necessarily stand idle.”

“That’s inefficient”, the suited man snarled. “That’s a waste!” The snarl gave way to a sneer. “What are you doing with the rest of your sacred time?”

“Other experiments. Thinking.”

“‘Thinking‘”, the scientist’s opposition scoffed. “Sitting on your hands being lazy, you mean!”

“I’m sorry”, the scientist was deadly quiet, or at least that’s what he thought he was. “Insights that allow us to understand what’s going on with the natural world around us do not just come at the snap of the fingers.”

Why not!?!” The advisor blew away the scientist’s calm. “I thought you people were supposed to be smart. You think the man in the street, working 14-hour days at two or three jobs for minimum wage, gives a flying fickle finger of fate about your thinking? You think their employers, who pay the taxes that keep this slum open, do?” He waved at the buildings, which had been abandoned by their previous occupants and condemned by the state; the oceanographic research organization had accepted them because it was what they could afford.

The man vaulted to his feet. “Computer geeks are at their machines 24/7/365. They don’t have to sit the frick around and think about what they’re doing. They know the score. You? Doesn’t bloody sound like it. Your CEO wants to get these buildings replaced before they fall down, or are torn down as fire and environmental hazards, around you. You want that to happen, those machines of yours better damned well be working at the speed of business. Eight hours a day, five days a week, is the minimum. With you people at those machines the same hours. Or I tell your CEO that the piles of rotten lumber that you have the gall to call buildings are all you’re going to get, and all that you deserve!” He stormed out of the meeting room.


Your Friendly Neighborhood Amoeba is not making this up. And this was long before 47.

Posted in Amoeba's Lorica, Meme-ories, nature, politics, science, We the People | Tagged , | Comments Off on Amoeba’s Lorica: Meme-ories 65 (What Green Really Means to Us)