Steward Setback Saturday: Better Than Gold: Ed Calkins Introduces the Pombec

During WriteOn Joliet's Calkins Day open mic this past Thursday, Ed Calkins read this piece, originally posted on my blog over six months ago.

If you missed it, here it is now.

If you enjoyed it, read it again.

If you don't care, scroll all the way to the bottom, where you can see the front and back of this new (and completely worthless) currency.

Saturday, June 1, 2019

Better Than Gold: Ed Calkins Introduces the Pombec

Dear MOMI:

              Don’t try to talk me out of it, my debt to you is too great. I’m designing the new trillion pombec bill of which only one will ever be in print. I know this will send panic among the pombec hording investors but if the bill does what it will be printed to do, the pombec will remain strong against all other currencies.

              You might not yet know what a pombec is. I’ll give you a chance to avoid feeling foolish and explain it latter with a presumption that you’ve figured it out but your readers need more information. Instead, I’ll start by informing you that the (I)rish (V)ampires (A)ssosaction has been using it for as long as I became the one IVA spokesperson. My dues were paid in pombecs as was my budget for IVA spokesperson.

              I might point out here, that some of the IVA’s most brilliant investments have backfired to the fault of the irrational markets’ constructs. Each misfortune is a lesson in the economy of people too stupid to lose.

              The first case might be explained as the peril ‘too precious to make change.’ Noting how rare they were becoming, the IVA aggressively bought out saber-tooth tiger teeth (known as ‘STT’) until we cornered the market. Gullible cave dwellers every were traded what teeth they could find for yellow heavy pebbles fond in river banks. The value of these teeth kept rising, and when the saber-tooth itself became extinct, the price exploded. But there is the problem. The STT became so pricey that the only thing expensive enough to trade for even one was another STT. Furthermore, no one without STT was wealthy enough to make change. The STT will just have to wait for way better things to be produced before it is traded again.

              Secondly, I submit the peril of ‘so useful it’s useless’ merged with ‘so rare it’s everywhere’. Take the case of those yellow pebbles. Naturally, I’m talking about gold which should be worthless by now, but people are too stupid to realize that they can’t use it for anything. Back before it was of value, it was the perfect metal to make cups, watches, armor, cable wire, and even coins. Now all of these things of gold can be found, but there too precious to actually use. If those shiny pebbles were meant to just lay around like they do in Fort Knots why did we bother taking them out of the rivers as we still do to this day? If fact it’s also so plentiful that people wear it, which is one thing gold was never good for. A wool sweater will keep you warm but a gold chain will only weigh you down or get you robbed. You can find gold everywhere sitting around doing no good for anyone. Can you say the same for engine parts?  The last actually useful thing about gold is as a tooth filling, but you need a tooth ache and an expensive dentist to get one. (There should be a joke in there but I’m too focused to see it.)

              Then there’s the mountain effect. Remember the Ica’s? They were the folks that insisted on living high up in the mountains were food was hard to hunt or grow. Well, before that moved, the IVA sold them some worthless plants with white bulbs in their roots. They’d still be making fortunes selling potatoes back to us if some even stupider race hadn’t climbed those mountains and wiped them out.

              Alcoholic beverages might seem like a good currency. Wines and hard liquors that age well create an investment opportunity that even stupid people can understand. The problem there is the cost of ‘stupid’ can be the commodity itself. Places in Russia where vodka is accepted and rubbles are not it’s said that every man, no matter how rich, is only one bender from broke.

              Lastly, we come to the ultimate finical victory of stupid that is paper money. Paper, unless its used in place of gold as cups, watches*, armor*, cable wire*, or even money, is mostly useless and plentiful. Image the skepticism of the IVA when the leaders of nations announced that their governments would simply print money that would be legal tender for all. Any vampire, noting the folles of former countries would have assumed that the only government job worth having was that of ‘currency printer’, attracting the same types that always want to be banker when playing monopoly. Any Irish vampire would have assumed that no government would ever be broke until the paper bills to buy a cup of coffee needed to be carried by fork lift.

              That stupid mistake was too smart for even kings and presidents to make. Instead they make the dumber mistake of borrowing the money they just printed to pay the monthly minimum on previous loans which carry higher that market interest.

              I realize that I’ve made a very poor case for any to take financial advice from an IVA member, but I think the borrowing to pay loans is good evidence that the current currency (say that five times) is in trouble. If legal tender money becomes worthless, what kind of paper will be valuable? Paper cups, watches*, Armor*, Cable wire* and plates will always have some value, but will those things fit in a wallet? Plastic cards? Didn’t the collapsing government try that already. Bit coins. Those are one hard drive away for crashing.

              What if something of value that’s both rare and useful was written on the paper? The ‘Bryony’ series in paperback will always be of value, but in a thousand years, we’re back to the STT problem. So, to the wary investor, buy up all the pombecs you can find. As Denise has already figured out, the first pombecs are hand written on paper napkins that once laid next to some tip that some lucky waitress collected. Like valuable autographs, condition, quality, and back story can have value, but usefulness and transferability distinguish pombecs from other collectibles. Though pombecs have different backings, all have the same four words, ‘Will you marry me?” written in the same hand. ‘Pombec’ is the acronym for ‘proposals of marriage by Ed Calkins’. Each pombec, having only those four words, and thus not being specific to the original payee has the effect of being a tradable option to marry, without any expiration prior to activation.

              As many of you know, Denise’s last book will bear the title; “The Most Impressive Women of All Times: The First 100 Wives of Ed Calkins**” As women who wish to live as legend down the unfolding of history strive to make the 100 cut, pombecs will trading will sky rocket. This long-awaited book will fly off shells throughout the future ages, doubling in sales from year to year. Image that! In four years, she’ll have sold 15 copies total…31 in five… 63 in six… yeah! Denise’s grandchildren will be rich!

              To the casual eye, Denise doesn’t have much incentive to write such a long, difficult book that is predicted to coincide with the end of her creative life.

              So, to address this, I’m issuing the first and last One Trillion Pombec Bill which will allow the bearer and 999,999,999,999 of her closest friends to be wives of Ed Calkins. Thou Denise once broke my heart by indicating no interest in activating such a claim, she can trade it, because I’m donating the bill to you, Denise. I know that you’ll use the money (it will be) to advance mankind’s capacity to write and understand how ruthless Ed Calkins really is.

              You are going to have to wait. I’ve yet to design the bill, find pictures and ink for it and other trivial matter that separate you from your future wealth. I do promise to present it to you by the next Calkins Day.

                                                                                      Ruthlessly Yours,

                                                                                       Ed Calkins

·       These things haven’t been invented yet. When they are, I’ll spend my longest STT for the rights

·       Yes, I’ve changed the title of your future book to manipulate the market

p.s. My computer crashed. I have plenty of backups, but I haven't yet located the Epic Limerick among the seven memory sticks....its someway, I just have to find it. I wouldn't really look except...you know...the muse

Ed Calkins Discusses the Mystery of Slot Machines

Dear MOMI,

It’s with great reluctance that I put this question to the IVA for fear of compromising our secrecy, but I feel the question is just too large for one Irish vampire to research on his own. 

The steaks (excuse the spelling, to spell it correctly would cause undo anxiety) are very high. If we of the IVA are able to put our minds together via the message broad on the "Bryony" website and find the answer to this baffling two-part question within a vampire life time then…well we would have proved we could answer a two-part question. 

But what if, because of the magnitude of our collecting finding, we draw worshipful attention to our own personage and become media eye candy to the masses of grateful admirers? The IVA would never be the same.

Personally, I’m willing to risk it. 

So, here is the question: What did Irish people ever do to slot machines, and, if we did something, are we sorry?

Look, it doesn’t take a genius to know they hold something against us. The Irish are stuff of legend with our luck, and yet the video wheels that turn do not spell fortune to our pockets.

I must quickly separate slot machines in general from the slot machines in casinos, lest casinos join in taking offense. We all know well before stepping into a casino, that they are built as a capital collection center, and every is not expected to make money. 

The chief workhorse for this collection is the slot machine, which puts them under a lot of pressure. If they never pay out, no one will play, and no money shall rest in their collection buckets. If they pay too often, the same thing happens, and they find themselves an early retirement. (Or being sold to a Trump casino)

Early casino type machines had it made. Laws against gambling in most states made competition light and payouts slight and shady. These machines all had the words “for entertainment only” on them so the murky establishment that housed them had an ‘out’ if a player tried to cash out. 

Then came gambling’s biggest ally; state budget deficits. 

Once considered the scorch of virtuous American ethics, gambling now became the bread and butter of government budget balancing as well as job creation. Large casinos were built and larger expectation were attacked. 

As the money started pouring in, those expectation increased as did taxes on casinos larger than more profitable casinos.

Still more money was needed and state laws relaxed even further. Slots, once the domain of shady bars and houses of ill repute where introduced in grocery stores, gas stations, florists, currency exchanges, churches, grammar schools, and prisons with the mandate for capital collection.

Then something unexpected happen. Gamblers ran out of money. Who would have thought? You can find a slot machine anywhere today, but try and find someone playing one. 

Sometimes I do play one, they look so lonely and sad as do the grocery owners and such who have them. If you do win, they look at you disbelieving like ‘really? I’m trying to survive here, and you’re going to collect?’

Casino slots can’t be blamed for taking Irish people’s money, though they could be nicer about it. Couldn’t they say, "thanks for playing" or "better luck next time" instead of "game over" or "insert more money to keep playing?"

The whole signage around them is a taut; “win big” or ‘thousands won on this machine," is basically machine-speak for, "Everyone else wins, I don’t know what your problem is, loser."

But there is a true meanie to Irish slot play, and it’s found on personal computers. I’m not acquainted with on-line gambling slots because they remind me of that kid in grades school who hustled me out of lunch money with the game "guess what number I’m thinking, I’ll tell you if you’re right."

I’m talking about casino software that you can still buy on a CD Rom and install on your computer. This software is often written by the same companies that produce the casino version of the same slot machines that rob you. 

Given the competitive nature of slot machines, companies would have great incentive to give a player of the computer version that such a game pays out all the time. You can still find such people. 

If you do happen to see someone playing a cash slot, you might hear them mumbling, “I don’t understand, I always win at home.” Be assured such a person is not Ed Calkins who never wins at home.

In my informal poll, everyone wins big on the not-for-real-money slots except anyone truly Irish. (Everyone is a little Irish, of course.) 

My three very Polish wives play all the time on their computers and have to crow, “I’ve got 6 billion on this game," “Oh, I only have 700 million on this one," "Gee, look I just got the bonus AGAIN, I hope this program counts beyond a trillion.” 

I don’t think I have to tell you what happens when I play, and seeing that I’m the only truly Irish person I know that plays this kind of slot, you can understand my question.

I’m told I have no reason to be upset. I shouldn’t take it personally when the program tells me I have no money to play, and I need to delete myself and restart again to even be allowed inside the virtual walls of the virtual casino. I’m being treated like a computer virus! 

They tell me, “Look, the money isn’t real, its not like you have to pay it back.” Do they not know who they’re talking to, or have they not discovered my loose connection to reality? 

At my count, I owe my computer 6 trillion computer bucks which can only be earned by winning on the computer program that loves everyone else, but hates the truly Irish. With all the money I owe, it amazes me that I find time to go to work.

I really need your help, Denise. I know the IVA monitors every inch of your website, so my call for answers will be heard. 

To ensure a response, I’m offering a bounty for the best answer that is posted on Denise’s site and is offered by an IVA member. To the best answer, I will compose a limerick that will make the member famous without confirming or denying membership to the IVA. 

To the second best, I pledge a 10 pombec bill.

I realize that with such a prize in sight, many qualified, but unremembered, people are going to want to join the IVA (Irish Vampires Association) so I will review how to become a member.

1)      You don’t have to believe you’re a vampire (I don’t believe I’m a vampire most of the time (even the sight of blood make me hungry (unless it’s my blood (in which case it makes me uncomfortable (however its more the feel of the wound that the sight of blood.)))) but you do have to believe you’re Irish (you are).

2)      Be alone in a private place.

3)      Coronet yourself in a way you image the IVA coronets.

4)      Welcome yourself to the IVA.

5)      Appoint yourself to an IVA office.

6)      Pay yourself the dues you should receive for your office’s budget.

7)      Do as you believe an IVA member should do.

8)      Tell no one, not even yourself about this. Write yourself a membership card and burn it.

Once an IVA member, you are eligible for the prize. Compose you answer to: What did the Irish ever do to slot machines, and if we did something, are we sorry?

Then send it to Denise and tell her if you won. 

Wait, that kid with the numbers in his head might be the president. 

On second thought, Denise will decide who won. 

Don’t worry, Denise will forget your name as soon as she picks a winner.

                 

Ruthlessly yours,

                 Ed Calkins

Editor's note: The contest is inside Ed's head. You may send responses, but there are no winners.

Better Than Gold: Ed Calkins Introduces the Pombec

Dear MOMI,

              Don’t try to talk me out of it, my debt to you is too great. I’m designing the new trillion pombec bill of which only one will ever be in print. I know this will send panic among the pombec hording investors but if the bill does what it will be printed to do, the pombec will remain strong against all other currencies.

              You might not yet know what a pombec is. I’ll give you a chance to avoid feeling foolish and explain it latter with a presumption that you’ve figured it out but your readers need more information. Instead, I’ll start by informing you that the (I)rish (V)ampires (A)ssosaction has been using it for as long as I became the one IVA spokesperson. My dues were paid in pombecs as was my budget for IVA spokesperson.

              I might point out here, that some of the IVA’s most brilliant investments have backfired to the fault of the irrational markets’ constructs. Each misfortune is a lesson in the economy of people too stupid to lose.

              The first case might be explained as the peril ‘too precious to make change.’ Noting how rare they were becoming, the IVA aggressively bought out saber-tooth tiger teeth (known as ‘STT’) until we cornered the market. Gullible cave dwellers every were traded what teeth they could find for yellow heavy pebbles fond in river banks. The value of these teeth kept rising, and when the saber-tooth itself became extinct, the price exploded. But there is the problem. The STT became so pricey that the only thing expensive enough to trade for even one was another STT. Furthermore, no one without STT was wealthy enough to make change. The STT will just have to wait for way better things to be produced before it is traded again.

              Secondly, I submit the peril of ‘so useful it’s useless’ merged with ‘so rare it’s everywhere’. Take the case of those yellow pebbles. Naturally, I’m talking about gold which should be worthless by now, but people are too stupid to realize that they can’t use it for anything. Back before it was of value, it was the perfect metal to make cups, watches, armor, cable wire, and even coins. Now all of these things of gold can be found, but there too precious to actually use. If those shiny pebbles were meant to just lay around like they do in Fort Knots why did we bother taking them out of the rivers as we still do to this day? If fact it’s also so plentiful that people wear it, which is one thing gold was never good for. A wool sweater will keep you warm but a gold chain will only weigh you down or get you robbed. You can find gold everywhere sitting around doing no good for anyone. Can you say the same for engine parts?  The last actually useful thing about gold is as a tooth filling, but you need a tooth ache and an expensive dentist to get one. (There should be a joke in there but I’m too focused to see it.)

              Then there’s the mountain effect. Remember the Ica’s? They were the folks that insisted on living high up in the mountains were food was hard to hunt or grow. Well, before that moved, the IVA sold them some worthless plants with white bulbs in their roots. They’d still be making fortunes selling potatoes back to us if some even stupider race hadn’t climbed those mountains and wiped them out.

              Alcoholic beverages might seem like a good currency. Wines and hard liquors that age well create an investment opportunity that even stupid people can understand. The problem there is the cost of ‘stupid’ can be the commodity itself. Places in Russia where vodka is accepted and rubbles are not it’s said that every man, no matter how rich, is only one bender from broke.

              Lastly, we come to the ultimate finical victory of stupid that is paper money. Paper, unless its used in place of gold as cups, watches*, armor*, cable wire*, or even money, is mostly useless and plentiful. Image the skepticism of the IVA when the leaders of nations announced that their governments would simply print money that would be legal tender for all. Any vampire, noting the folles of former countries would have assumed that the only government job worth having was that of ‘currency printer’, attracting the same types that always want to be banker when playing monopoly. Any Irish vampire would have assumed that no government would ever be broke until the paper bills to buy a cup of coffee needed to be carried by fork lift.

              That stupid mistake was too smart for even kings and presidents to make. Instead they make the dumber mistake of borrowing the money they just printed to pay the monthly minimum on previous loans which carry higher that market interest.

              I realize that I’ve made a very poor case for any to take financial advice from an IVA member, but I think the borrowing to pay loans is good evidence that the current currency (say that five times) is in trouble. If legal tender money becomes worthless, what kind of paper will be valuable? Paper cups, watches*, Armor*, Cable wire* and plates will always have some value, but will those things fit in a wallet? Plastic cards? Didn’t the collapsing government try that already. Bit coins. Those are one hard drive away for crashing.

              What if something of value that’s both rare and useful was written on the paper? The ‘Bryony’ series in paperback will always be of value, but in a thousand years, we’re back to the STT problem. So, to the wary investor, buy up all the pombecs you can find. As Denise has already figured out, the first pombecs are hand written on paper napkins that once laid next to some tip that some lucky waitress collected. Like valuable autographs, condition, quality, and back story can have value, but usefulness and transferability distinguish pombecs from other collectibles. Though pombecs have different backings, all have the same four words, ‘Will you marry me?” written in the same hand. ‘Pombec’ is the acronym for ‘proposals of marriage by Ed Calkins’. Each pombec, having only those four words, and thus not being specific to the original payee has the effect of being a tradable option to marry, without any expiration prior to activation.

              As many of you know, Denise’s last book will bear the title; “The Most Impressive Women of All Times: The First 100 Wives of Ed Calkins**” As women who wish to live as legend down the unfolding of history strive to make the 100 cut, pombecs will trading will sky rocket. This long-awaited book will fly off shells throughout the future ages, doubling in sales from year to year. Image that! In four years, she’ll have sold 15 copies total…31 in five… 63 in six… yeah! Denise’s grandchildren will be rich!

              To the casual eye, Denise doesn’t have much incentive to write such a long, difficult book that is predicted to coincide with the end of her creative life.

              So, to address this, I’m issuing the first and last One Trillion Pombec Bill which will allow the bearer and 999,999,999,999 of her closest friends to be wives of Ed Calkins. Thou Denise once broke my heart by indicating no interest in activating such a claim, she can trade it, because I’m donating the bill to you, Denise. I know that you’ll use the money (it will be) to advance mankind’s capacity to write and understand how ruthless Ed Calkins really is.

              You are going to have to wait. I’ve yet to design the bill, find pictures and ink for it and other trivial matter that separate you from your future wealth. I do promise to present it to you by the next Calkins Day.

                                                                                      Ruthlessly Yours,

                                                                                       Ed Calkins

·       These things haven’t been invented yet. When they are, I’ll spend my longest STT for the rights

·       Yes, I’ve changed the title of your future book to manipulate the market

p.s. My computer crashed. I have plenty of backups, but I haven't yet located the Epic Limerick among the seven memory sticks....its someway, I just have to find it. I wouldn't really look except...you know...the muse