Author (#32)March 2008 Archives

I enjoy stories that illustrate that you don't have to be a jerk to get ahead in this world. Hot Dog City is an example of a post-modern society that eschews destructive competition in favor of constructive cooperation.

Hot Dog Bank lies in Hot Dog City, east of Hot Dog Square. You know when you’re walking past The Mustard Store and you see a statue of Oscar Mayer on the corner and there’s a fountain to your left? Yeah, yeah. That’s the one. Well, you take a right at the statue, walk five feet, and then Boom! you’re practically there, there at Hot Dog Bank.

Hot Dog Bank is a bank unlike any bank you’ve seen before. It’s not made of marble. It’s not made of brick. It’s barely big enough to walk in.

If you were a jerk, you’d take one look at Hot Dog Bank and say, “Hot Dog Bank is a shitty bank, and Oh, God! it smells like hot dogs.” But you’re not a jerk. I’m vouching for you. So keep an open mind.

Hot Dog Bank is where Hot Dog City stores most of its cache of meat. Inside of a drawer, inside of a box, inside of a handful of sealed plastic sleeves, lie 960 all-beef hot dogs, the entire endowment of the City of Hot Dogs, Hot Dog City’s fashionable nickname recently approved by a consortium of the city’s top brass.

A reasonable person would expect Hot Dog City to guard its hot dogs tenaciously, with a watchful eye and a terrifying arsenal of very loud and very heavy automatic weapons. But no one in Hot Dog City is like that. Here, here in Hot Dog City, one can visit Hot Dog Bank for a tour of Hot Dog Vault 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Hot Dog City is an open society. “That’s the Hot Dog Way!” we say.
.
Fort Knox is home to the United States Bullion Depository, the second largest reserve of gold bullion in the country. It houses more than 5,000 tons of gold worth more than $130 billion, which is about enough money to change your life for the better.

But guess what.

You can’t go there and withdraw any of it!

Because the government won’t let you!

And so the money just sits there and rots, which would be a horrible fate for a hot dog if Hot Dog Bank were as stingy. Which it’s not!

At Hot Dog Bank you can always make a withdrawal. One hot dog. Two hot dogs. Three hot dogs. You name it. In fact, you can walk into any one of Hot Dog Bank’s branches today and withdraw as many hot dogs as you please. If they’re your hot dogs, originally deposited by you, you won’t ever have to pay them back. If they’re not your hot dogs, if someone else first deposited them, you probably still won’t have to pay them back. Just be cool and say good things about hot dogs, and it's almost a given that you and the bank can call it even. It’s that easy!

And yet it wasn’t always so.

There was a time when the City of Hot Dogs was struggling, and a run on the bank seemed ready to finish it. Folks preferred to keep their hot dogs close at hand, where they could see them -- in a coffee can, under a mattress, framed maybe. None of it was any good for the hot dogs.

And then one day over hot dogs, two men had a notion. They were two of the biggest holders of hot dogs the city had ever known.

"My hot dogs are no good if I don't use them for something," said the first man. "What if we take our hot dogs and put them in the bank to show folks that we have confidence in the system? I think such a move may be needed right now."

"I can afford to lose my hot dogs," said the other. "I've had none before. I could have none again."

"The future of this city very likely hinges upon what we decide here today," said the first man. "So, we agree? We'll endeavor to save The City of Hot Dogs, this town whose foundation was built upon meat?"

The men shook hands in agreement.

"Confidence is contagious," coaching legend Vince Lombardi is quoted as saying. "And so is lack of confidence." So when the first great load of hot dogs was ready for deposit on a sunny day in June many years ago, it was by no accident they were carried high in the air and through the front door, in great big boxes with great big labels on them, for all to see and draw hope and inspiration from.

It was a stunning act of sacrifice and philanthropy at a time when fear and inertia seemed perfectly reasonable. It was historic and pivotal, and its success proved immediate. Morning papers told the story of the fateful deposit, and those who could read them told those who could not. Word of the news spread quickly through town.

By mid-morning, a small line had formed outside of the bank for deposits, and by mid-afternoon the line had grown and snaked around the corner. A thick smell of hot dogs had even set upon the air as folks around town began to unearth theirs -- dusty, dry, and slightly worse for the wear, they were hot dogs nonetheless. The great fear that sparked the run on the bank had been lifted. The bank's vaults soon swelled. Reserve ratios could finally be met. A city had been saved.

Hot Dog City has always been a town that pulls together, and we're closer now for all that we've been through. You won't find any statues here of the men who saved our city, but their spirit lives in everything we do. To those two men, we say sincerely: This city of ours is itself a memorial to you.

Ed Krachie is no ordinary human being. He is an insightful and articulate author, researcher, and amateur scientist whose essays have been enthusiastically rejected by esteemed publications worldwide. Here, in his latest scientific masterpiece, recently rejected by the International Journal of Game Theory, Ed Krachie further demonstrates his mastery of the obvious. Go get 'em, Ed.

Game Strategy in Two-Person Price Is Right-style Bidding Game

Section 1: Opponent Bids First

Opponent bids $X. You think that's too high. Bid $1.

Opponent bids $X. You think that's too low. Bid $X + 1.

Opponent bids $0. Ask him if he's feeling okay.

Section 2: You Bid First

Listen to the audience.