I bought a personal satellite last week, and it doesn't seem to be very good quality; it zips around the globe far faster than the globe around its axis, so the signals it sends back appear to be coming from the future.
And here's what it picked up over California:
Hank, a local Walmart manager, and Bill, Homeland Security head for Orange County.
"I sure am glad you could come and lend us a hand, Bill. It was quite desperate for a while."
"No problem, Hank, rounding up consumers seems the least we can do when the country needs us. And I see you got them cowboys from the New Mexico rodeo show to lasso a few strays, too."
"Yep, there are literally hundreds of Americans who have not done their patriotic duty this month. Our shelves are full to the brim!"
"And you have invited the card companies here as well."
"Bill, this is a joint venture between Homeland Security, the major card companies and the US Immigration Department."
"The USID? Why are they involved?"
"It's my brainchild; you see I thought of a novel way to increase sales: the line you see over here, guarded by your folks - by the way, those are not real sub-machine guns, are they?"
"Hank, I gotta do my day job, too, you know that."
"Yeah, I suppose, well, anyway, that line is reserved for those that hold more than ten defaulted credit cards, so now that America needs us, I have arranged for the Immigration Department to furnish them with new identities, then they join the line of the credit card companies, and before you know it both I and they have hundreds of brand new customers."
"Haha, Hank, you crack me up."
"And the credit card accounts are sold to a Special Purpose Vehicle in Cayman Islands, apparently owned by the Arabs. Or the Chinese or something."
"What, a Humvee?"
"I dunno, Bill, didn't really understand it all. Whatever increases sales."
Speakers are blaring everywhere.
'I am Sylvester Stallone, and we need you to BUY!'
'I am Brad Pitt, and we need you to BUY!'
'I am Angelina Jolie, and I will flash you at the register if you BUY!'
'We are Britney, Amy and Lindsay, specially allowed out of rehab, with this message: BUY!'
'I eat my breakfast 400 yards from 3,000 Cubans who are trained to kill me, and I'm ordering you to BUY!'
"But, sir, I'm Canadian," one of the guys in the line raised his hand.
"Take him away, shoot him."
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"We have no use for these lily-livered foreigners. Terrorist scum. American greatness is at risk. And, sir, can you explain why you're here?"
"Err. Yes, you see, officer, I was lying on my couch, only a 2006 model, I'm afraid, re-reading a book about French Impressionism, when these two GIs came and dragged me here."
"Excellent job, sergeant, please escort this man to the furniture department, and get somebody to show him the 42" plasma TVs later. French Impressionism! Is that what made this country great?"
"Bill, what's that mess over there?"
"Oh, that was a Norwegian Human Rights Commissioner or something, shouting that forcing people to borrow so we can sell them consumer goods no one needs is against some sissy United Nations regulation. Had to string him up and burn him at the stake, using a pile of discarded Big Mac Styrofoam boxes."
"Quite right, too. Whiners."
The speakers were relentless:
'Buy discounted Citibank stock - 90 day money back guarantee!'
'Buy Merrill Lynch stock using your American Express and get air miles!'
Meanwhile a couple of blocks down the road.
"Maria Jolette T. Guevarra. Come out with your hands where we can see them. We have the credit card form here."
"What seems to be the problem, officer?"
"According to Immigration records, she has been in the county for several months, and hasn't arranged a credit card facility yet."
"Shoot her at sight."
And with that the satellite whizzed out over the Pacific.
