MIDDLE INCOME RICHARD'S
Third Millennium Almanack
An e-zine published every now and again
via the Internet, which should, in the coming
thousand years, save a few wads of paper
and spare a whole bunch of trees.
Vol. 1, No. 1, May 2001
(c) 2001 Rich Limacher
Editorial material, immaterial, ads, subtracts, and
everything else to:
A "different" Memorial Day observation:
As you pay your respects to elders and ancestors--and
especially to those who died in your defense--you may
believe that their knowledge of past times easily out-shines
or -shone your own. But consider this: they never did, and
still don't, know any more about the future than you do.
This e-zine is all about:
Chair of Contents:
e v e r y t h i n g - e l s e
p s page numbers are no longer necessary
(because everything is all on one page)
Something needed yet to be invented:
Vertical enumeration and/or some type of scrolling sequence
Something impossible yet to be wished for:
All of academia agreeing on the same system.
Limacher's Law: The only things that actually happen
in life can never be imagined in advance.
Limacher's 1st Corollary: If you're really looking forward
to something, don't think about it.
When the information technology revolution rolls over you,
you're either part of the steamroller
or part of the road.
From the 21st Century Journeyman Wizard
To His Apprenticed Class of Sage Pages:
"Ya know, class, back in the free-lovin' Age of Aquarius--
back in the dark, unenlightened days when there existed such
things as 'gas wars'--when the oil companies were short on
gas, they rationed it. We thought, surely *somebody* will
now develop an alternative source for fuel. Well, almost
thirty years later, nobody's developed anything and they're
telling us again they're now short on gas. But today the
big oil companies are all in cahoots and they've solved the
problem by doubling or tripling the price. So you see,
there's been some progress:
"Big Oil 'has finally gotten
together' and 'loves one another right now.'"
One of the sage pages raises his hand. "So from this we are
to conclude, oh wise one, that our planet is full of oil and
there never has been a shortage?"
"What are you on, page?" the Wizard retorts. "That's not at
all what we need to conclude."
"I'm still on page one, sir. Same as the rest of us. But
what ARE we to conclude from all this, my wiz?"
"Make loot, not war."
Too early to bed and too early to rise...
will put you on midnights.
Tomorrow's Little Story:
C. C. Writers
Hap Stance chanced upon what he knew to be the surest
money-making scheme of all time one day while attending a
national convention for the graphics and printing trade. He
waltzed up to a booth where a small group of salespeople
were demonstrating the very latest, and the very top of the
line full-color photocopying machine.
He stared in absolute wonder while the machine spat out copy
after copy of the contents of the speaker's billfold: a
twenty, a ten, and a five in perfect size and color--both
sides!--all neatly printed on 8-1/2" by 11" sheets of paper.
You could not distinguish the copies from the original
except for one fairly major factor:
"The paper," the man was saying. "You can only get that
kind of paper from the U.S. Department of the Treasury, my
friends. And, guess what. They ain't sellin' it!"
But "they" were selling the machine; and, before you could
pronounce the word "counterfeit," Hap was buying it. All
fifty-five thousand dollars worth. But he would only need
five grand to put down to have it delivered, and he knew of
a sure-fire way to meet every monthly installment for the
next five years.
Hap was a self-publishing computer buff, which explains his
interest and attendance at the printing convention, but he
was also vice president of recycling operations at a very
large local paper mill. He knew how to make paper--any kind
of paper--and now he suddenly knew how to make U.S. Treasury
For the next three months or so, Hap and Dutch, his partner
in crime, would ask for "change" for every large bill in
their wallets everywhere they went. For every twenty, ten,
and five they could spare, they would receive, in turn,
twenty, ten, and five singles. Between the two of them, and
before the first payment was due on their new machine, they
had amassed approximately 8,700 single one-dollar bills.
These they took one long weekend to the mill, when it was
closed, and went to work around the clock. By about 2 A.M.
Monday, they sauntered out of the factory with a suitcase
full of freshly recycled, dried, crisp, and very blank U.S.
Treasury printing paper.
That Monday they both called in sick at work. When the
banks opened, Hap sent Dutch downtown to make "change" yet
one more time. And he swaggered back to Hap's garage with a
freshly issued stack of twenty dollar bills in his coat
pocket. One hundred twenties. Two thousand spanking new
dollars, with serial numbers right in order, with the fresh
signatures of all the current Treasury office holders, and
all bearing the latest dates and seals of the governing
district of the Federal Reserve.
And this time, even quicker than you could pronounce the
word "counterfeit," all the fresh blank Treasury paper went
in through the feeder bin; and out came sheet after sheet of
freshly printed twenty dollar bills: four to a sheet, front
and back, eighty bucks apiece.
Hap did the printing--carefully cycling through, and back,
the stack of genuine twenties--while Dutch cheerfully--but
carefully--operated the paper cutter. By the time they were
done, they had their deluxe photocopier all paid for--about
three times over.
After that, they developed a real rhythm. Half of their
freshly photocopied twenties were used to buy singles, which
were then recycled back to raw Treasury paper stock--or put
to other uses--while the other half of their print shop
"crop" was used to pay all their bills. And, of course, to
pay off balances for each and every outrageously expensive
brand-new gadget their giddy little hearts desired.
So how was it that one day, about eight months later, each
man was arrested while relaxing in his brand-new home by
agents of the U.S. Department of the Treasury?
Well, as one of the agents so enthusiastically explained, he
happened to be playing "Liar's Poker" at one of the local
bars where Dutch had gone to buy change for his twenties.
Imagine being beaten twice in one game by the same exact
serial number on two different twenty dollar bills!
After a quick check through the Federal Reserve System, it
was discovered that those serial-numbered bills had been
issued to the local First National Bank. And after the
agents questioned each and every teller who worked there, it
was a simple matter to identify and grab the two suspects.
Dutch, you see, had been coming in once a month to buy a
fresh stack of twenties. Only--amazing detail!--he always
paid for them with two thousand one dollar bills.
And they were happy to nab Hap at work, because they wanted
to see his paper recycling operations in action, which, of
course, Hap wasn't too awful damn happy to demonstrate.
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Tomorrow's Useful Internet Link:
[for those interested in researching and communicating their
own family histories]
"Unless you are writing a book that is likely to sell
thousands of copies, you do not need a publisher, and
publishers, frankly, don't need you....
To learn more about the publishing scenario from start to
finish, see the new series of articles through the freebies
section at http://www.historysavers.com/pubhelp.htm . This
is a free resource, intended to provide such a clear
blueprint that more people will be encouraged to publish
family histories and other work of historical significance."
[ Written by Cheri Dohnal email@example.com.
Previously published by Julia M. Case and Myra Vanderpool
Gormley, CG, Missing Links, Vol. 6, No. 20,
16 May 2001. RootsWeb: http://www.rootsweb.com/ ]
Mostly light, with periods of darkness approaching towards
Tomorrow's Emotional Forecast:
Scattered moisture, with periods of dry composure
Tomorrow's Financial Forecast:
One or two puffs of profit, here and there, with an
occasional poof of self-aggrandizement, a little watershed,
but a deluge of taxes later on.
Yesterday's Roman Forecast:
No prophets at all.
Today's Media Message:
It's no secret that one of our most memorable ancestors, Ben
Franklin, got his first real "break" in the media by giving
up trying to pander to the tastes of the more traditional
publishers of his time--and just inventing that "break" on
his own. He published a simple one-page periodical called
"Poor Richard's Almanack" and sold it along the streets and
rivers of the colonies for a penny apiece. And it thrived
as a business for the next twenty-five years. So now, some
two-hundred and sixty-nine years later, you get "Middle
Income Richard's 3rd Millennium Almanack" selling along the
buy-ways and Java-streams of the Internet for a buck a copy.
At least, that is the intention. But for right now, of
course, it's free. That is unless you suddenly develop
pangs of conscience, and for that you might find immediate
relief by snail-mailing a dollar to Ben's most dubious
descendant: C. C. Writers at P.O. Box 963, Matteson, IL
60443. Thanks and think green (i.e., saving the environment
by promoting paperless publishing)!!!
Tomorrow's Little Prophecy:
By the time of the U.S. tri-centennial, we figure our native
language will be Chinese.
Today's Wishful Thinking:
[start] * * * * * * Paid Advertisements * * * * * * *
None so far
[stop] * * * * * * Paid Advertisements * * * * * * *
Today's Letters to the Editor:
Also (natch) none.
Zip, nada, zilch, nix, nope, nunq, nunh-uh, pffft, squat,
poof, zap, poop, poo-poo, pttt-tooey, and El Zippo.
"Sahwrey, baby. Feed'll be back next time."
["Middle Income Richard's" will return
at some as yet unimaginable
future unspecified time]