Points in Case http://www.pointsincase.com Enlightening & Irreverent Comedy Thu, 22 Jun 2017 23:09:13 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=4.7.5 The Art of Head Faking Your Boss http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/the-art-of-head-faking-your-boss http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/the-art-of-head-faking-your-boss#respond Thu, 22 Jun 2017 23:00:35 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=34303 When your boss sits across the desk from you and asks why you didn’t turn in your assignment on time, give him a head fake to the left like the one you gave your friend Billy or Tommy in sixth grade on the touch football field on your neighborhood elementary school field.

While running with the football around left end, you tilted your head to the left. Billy or Tommy or whatever his name followed your lead and stepped to the left. Billy believed you were going to keep running to the left. Billy bit the bone.

You then burned Billy by reversing course, side-stepping him to the right, prancing to yet another boyhood touchdown you would brag well into adult life.

Your boss will then give you a head fake to the left. Don’t fall for it. Keep him focused on your question.

With boss man bearing down on you, tilt your head to the left. His head will follow yours. Wait ten seconds. Hold the tilt like you would an ice cream cone. Then reverse direction by tilting your head to the right. He won’t be able to keep up with you.

You are having a head fake. It’s like hallucinating.

“But what about the assignment?” he will undoubtedly ask again. “I see you’re trying to give me a head fake but you haven’t answered my question, you loser schmuck who I want to fire but can’t because of corporate lawsuits that may erupt.”

“Boss man,” you say while tilting your head back to the left. “I didn’t turn in the assignment because I thought we had an understanding that I would turn in assignments when I want to. What’s more, if I didn’t think the assignment was going to drive enough return on our investments, I could just not do it. That’s what I remember us agreeing to.”

“Don’t try that head fake deflection on me, idiot subordinate,” boss man will say.

“Hey boss man, did you ever play touch football as a kid or were you not athletic or likable enough to hang out with the cool kids?”

“I played touch football as a kid.”

Give another head fake to the left.

“Did you ever run around left end and a kid named Billy came to touch you so the play would end? Then you gave him a head fake to the left. Lame Billy or Danny went for the fake then you schooled him by cutting back to the right for a touchdown.”

“I never did that,” boss man will say. “No one let me run with the ball. I wasn’t fast or athletic enough. But I know what you mean. I get the concept of a head fake. And this is a mis-direction of our conversation. You are head faking me so I lose my focus on the fact that you didn’t turn in your assignment. But I never will forget. At long last, I can document this insubordination and incompetence as evidence for why this company should fire you.”

When boss man drops this load on you, pause and think to yourself for one second. Then for another few seconds.

Then say: “Hey boss man, if you never got the ball in touch football because you weren’t fast or athletic enough, and you therefore didn’t get to head fake anyone while running with the pigskin round left end, how did you get this job bossing me around? I’m a better head faker than you. This has been true since we were both kids. What sort of head faking did you do to get your position of power over me, one of the better head fakers in the history of touch football?

Your boss will then give you a head fake to the left. Don’t fall for it. Keep him focused on your question. Stare straight ahead. Like your life depends on it, do not move your noggin.

“Hey boss man, that head fake you just threw at me. I didn’t fall for it. Until you figure out how to head fake better I don’t think we need to be talking anymore about this meaningless assignment you gave me.”

With boss man loaded down with all this, stand up, give him another head fake. This time go right with the tilt.

As you walk out of his office, let the last visual boss man has of you to be you swinging your left hip to the left and your head to the right.

Dump on him one final hip fake and head fake.

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I’m the “Him” From the “Trainers HATE Him” Ads, and I’m Sorry http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/im-the-him-from-the-trainers-hate-him-ads-and-im-sorry http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/im-the-him-from-the-trainers-hate-him-ads-and-im-sorry#respond Wed, 21 Jun 2017 22:11:38 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=34394 First, I want to thank everyone for coming out to this press conference today. In particular, I want to thank members of the media, and the corporate representatives from Retro Fitness, Planet Fitness, and Curves for their willingness to hear my side of the story.

I have prepared a statement.

A recent discovery in the world of fitness has turned the industry on its head, leaving hundreds of personal trainers unemployed and angry. Clickbait ads boasting this new discovery are plastered all over the internet, usually featuring the headline “Trainers HATE him.” Sadly, personal trainers must be reminded of their anguish any time they visit highly-respectable websites like forums.bodybuilding.com, boards.straightdope.com/sdmb, and reddit.com/r/theredpill.

Trainers HATE Him ad

While details are murky, the claim is that an individual, only referred to as “him,” uncovered a simple trick for enlarging mass and blasting testosterone, enabling this mysterious individual to reach previously untenable peaks of fitness performance. “Him” then unleashed this trick, which had eluded fitness enthusiasts for centuries, on the world, essentially rendering personal trainers obsolete.

I didn’t have the courage to admit this before, but now I must confess…

It was me.

I’m the “him” that personal trainers hate. I stumbled upon a simple trick to cruise past weightlifting plateaus and gain 42 pounds of muscle in just one month. I freely shared this trick and now personal trainers are rapidly losing clients or are out of work completely.

I am so sorry for the emotional distress I have caused. I did not intend to disrupt the billion dollar fitness industry. I’m just a normal 18-year-old kid with a mind-blowing technique that permits me to bench press 420 pounds despite weighing a mere 170 pounds.

I thought my breakthrough could help gym rats reach new pinnacles of fitness and push their bodies to the max. I sincerely believed that my trick would spark new enthusiasm for fitness, ultimately benefiting personal trainers. But instead, we are inundated nightly with tragic newscasts showing lines of juiced-up gorillas spilling out of unemployment offices. Or of totally swole, newly-homeless muscle hunks clutching cardboard signs with phrases like “will motivate for protein.”

My heart truly breaks for them.

In addition to the far-reaching economic implications of this trick, I also didn’t consider that my discovery would be co-opted by sleazy, fly-by-night internet companies. Companies that care not of shifting fitness paradigms, but only of turning a quick buck. My goal was to lift others up, much as I now effortlessly deadlift hundreds of pounds from a deep resting squat. But instead the livelihoods of so many have been torn down.

I implore you, please, do not hate me for what was simply a lack of foresight. It was a mistake. An egregious one, but a mistake nonetheless.

I would be remiss not to address another issue that has recently come to light. Undoubtedly, you’ve seen other ads like “Dermatologists HATE him” or “Language professors HATE him,” “Wives HATE him,” “porn stars,” “police officers,” “stockbrokers,” and the list goes on.

Yes, that’s me too. Every single one of those ads refers to the same “him.”

And that “him” is me.

As it turns out, my simple trick is a panacea that can, among other things, fix wrinkles, kill belly fat, lengthen, strengthen, and enable you to learn any language. I don’t understand the science behind it, but my trick is a miracle cure.

However, I want to stress that I am not affiliated with any of these internet companies, and I have not, and do not intend to, make any profit from this shocking discovery. But Pandora is out of the box. I have single-handedly damaged or destroyed thousands of careers. And for this, I am deeply, regretfully sorry.

Finally, I want to say on record that I am not the “Grocery stores FEAR him” guy, nor have I ever associated with this person. I do not know his method for cutting groceries bills by 90%. So please stop asking me.

Thank you.

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I Draw Him Naked First, To Preserve His Purity (By Dilbert Creator Scott Adams) http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/i-draw-him-naked-first-to-preserve-his-purity-by-dilbert-creator-scott-adams http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/i-draw-him-naked-first-to-preserve-his-purity-by-dilbert-creator-scott-adams#respond Tue, 20 Jun 2017 12:58:07 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=34382 Making a newspaper comic is pain. It is the very definition of pain. As I’m sure you are all well aware, I, Scott Adams, have been making Dilberts for decades now. And I have become very good at making Dilbert, for he is my lifeblood and I am his unforgiving creator.

But how do I do it? How do I, Scott Adams, make a new Dilbert every day without letting my work STAGNATE and PUTREFY like a bloated corpse in medical book that children dare not to peruse?

The answer is deliciously simple.

Before my pen even outlines his dirty, filthy Dilbert clothing, I draw the Dilbert naked first. To preserve his essence. To preserve his purity.

The Dilbert must first be allowed to experience a life free from tarnish: naked and unmarred and free. That is what makes his fall from glory all the more comical.

Yes. You heard me correctly. The whole Dilbert (and not merely a representative subsection) is delivered into this world as garmentless and as blameless as a newborn babe: his square chest. His cylinder head. His legs (oh, his chaste legs). When I begin every strip, they are singularly as unblemished and as pure as the fallen snow. You see, it is only after I have “birthed” (so to speak) a fresh and unsullied Dilbert, that I may decorate his newspaper prison with cubicles and colors and colleagues.

And clothes.

Oh, his godforsaken clothes.

How it pains me to daily draw pants and a shirt and a DAMNED red-and-black curved tie over Dilbert’s guiltless, undefiled skin. But, of course, he must wear clothing, is that not right? The burden of clothing has always been man’s mark of Cain–it symbolizes our loss of innocence in a world of impurity. For Dilbert to function at all, he must wear clothing to show that he has been SYMBOLICALLY TARNISHED.

But, equally importantly, he must first be allowed to experience a life free from tarnish: naked and unmarred and free. That is what makes his fall from glory all the more comical.

Do I draw the other Dilbert characters naked? No. For they are impure and they do not deserve the gift of immaculateness. Truly, it is no mere coincidence that Dilbert’s reviled “Pointy-Haired Boss” has two tufts of hair that subtly allude to the scarlet horns of the Great Deceiver. The foes of the Dilbert may have the external appearance of “colleagues,” but they are tempters. They are TORMENTORS. They are stark allegories of an evil that has been etched into the very caverns of time itself.

Indeed, when I daily ink the garments of Wally or Alice or Asok or any of Dilbert’s other inferior, fully-clothed antagonists, I am delightfully reminded of a particularly enticing quotation from Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus:

“Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed
In one self place, but where we are is hell,
And where hell is, there must we ever be.” (2.1.118-120)

Where we are is hell; and I cannot draw the other characters naked, for hell must envelope the Dilbert at every turn.

The perceptive reader may have noted that Dilbert’s dog, Dogbert, is also naked (as is the custom of so many pets). But this does not mean that Dogbert is as innocent as the Dilbert. No. Far from it. Dogbert is also an allegorical tormentor of the Dilbert, so I must first draw him with clothing, and then draw his naked form over the clothes to preserve his corruption.

This process takes hours.

And finally, only after I have layered clothing and characters and DECEIT onto the comic, thereby ushering Dilbert out of Eden and into Gomorrah, do I allow myself to add words to the page. My iconic punchlines like “it saves me a lot of money” or “we’re paying them too much” or “and I need it done by next Tuesday” speak to the human condition (and are titillating in their own right). But they only truly function by reflecting a world that has witnessed unbridled purity, only to see that purity become suppressed and contained.

And the only way to achieve this effect is to grant a character blissful nakedness. Then take it away.

In this sense, the tale of Dilbert is not unique. Rather, it is as old as mankind; and it is why my work has successfully spanned the decades and why it will one day bury me: we are all born naked and we all will die in clothing.

We are all Dilbert.

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8 Tips to Avoid Queefing During Yoga Class http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/tips-to-avoid-queefing-during-yoga-class http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/tips-to-avoid-queefing-during-yoga-class#respond Mon, 19 Jun 2017 12:06:08 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=34367 1. If you think you’re going to need to queef, put your mat next to the woman in class who looks most likely to queef. Queefs are sexy, so this is probably the woman having the most sex. If you don’t know who’s having the most sex, just choose the one with the most tattoos.

2. Poses with your legs over your head, such as shoulder stand and plow, are especially queef-inducing. These poses are also hard anyway, and you’re not very good at yoga, so just skip them and take child’s pose. If child’s pose is not available to you, actually just take a child. Return when you get an Amber alert for the child.

3. Queefs often occur when the instructor tries to adjust you. This is because sometimes our bodies queef out of shock, such as being touched by a strange person. This is also why women queef when they’re about to have orgasms. Remember: queefs are sexy. To avoid instructors touching you, wear an ankle brace. This is also a good excuse for not doing very much yoga.

4. If you get stuck in a pose and you know you can’t get out of it without queefing, simply stay in that pose for the rest of eternity.

5. Queefs are the result of trapped pockets of air in your wrinkly vagina. To avoid them, do yoga poses that smooth out vagina wrinkles, such as downward-facing dog and sexual intercourse.

6. Queefs also mean your vagina has pockets that the air gets into. If you queef a lot, take advantage of these pockets and use them to carry snacks. This will come in handy during yoga class. Bring a Kind bar. Maybe even bring a second one to share.

7. Like farts, queefs happen when we need to shit. If you haven’t shit in the three hours before a yoga class, just skip it — the queef risk is too high. If you have taken a shit, skip it anyway. Yoga is hard and kinda boring. Also, you’re bad at it.

8. The most important thing to remember is that queefs are sexy because they come from the vagina. Queefs remind men of having sex. If queefs even have an odor, that odor is sex. Don’t be embarrassed about your queefs. But do be embarrassed about everything else you do in yoga class.

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If I Was as Good at Writing Query Letters as I Am Picking Up Chicks at a Bar http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/if-i-was-as-good-at-writing-query-letters-as-i-am-picking-up-chicks-at-a-bar http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/if-i-was-as-good-at-writing-query-letters-as-i-am-picking-up-chicks-at-a-bar#respond Sat, 17 Jun 2017 21:50:26 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=34363 Dear Person in Publishing Books,

(I actually don’t know who’s going to read this so can I just call you Susan? Great!)

Dear Susan,

My name is Alcy and I don’t fuck around. I know I read a lot and I’m sure you do too so there’s no need to waste each other’s time here.

I wrote a book (in English, my native language) that I know you’re going to love. But I don’t want you to read it. No one has time for that, ammirite? I know you have people knocking down your door trying to have you read stuff, right? I get it.

So that’s why I propose the opposite: I don’t want you to read my book. I want to read my book to you.

It’s as simple as that, no bullshit.

If you call me (I included my number below my signature) I will read you my entire opus, cover to cover.

Would you like that, Susan?

Boom.

A little about me. I’ve been described as intense, both on the page and off, but I have big, fat feelings too. I don’t have to tell you how much my heart gets a boner for current events. I’m from New York, from the Bronx actually, so that gives me an edge and an attitude you’ve never ever experienced before in your waking life.

I’m well endowed… in vocabulary. I have been writing even before I could pick up a pencil. I don’t have a favorite author, I only read to make me realize the limitations of my peers, and for inspiration, I sometimes write in the nude in front of a mirror.

Susan. How up to it are you? Me reading my book while you’re in the room?

Haha. You’re so hilarious and smart, Susan, it drives me fucking insane.

I can give you a brief synop of the book (and I’ll try not to blow your brains out with the premise alone). It’s a coming-of-age story set in the future. All of the characters are versions of me. You see? It’s an allegory. Or a diatribe?

Look, I’m not a scholar here and you’re probably smarter than you look. This may be a query letter, but we both know how this is going to go. I’m a conundrum wrapped in perfect prose and body hair. I wouldn’t say that I have a genre per se but more of an all-encompassing message of inclusion and personal dominance.

I’ve included down below what you should slap on the cover of this book when you eventually publish it. That’s right, I did my own cover. Don’t thank me for making your life easier, Soos.

I can call you Soos, right? I mean, I did type up this letter for you. Out of all the other places (and there are many better places I could have chosen to drop this literary gem) I chose you. And usually, I don’t even go for small publishers. Usually, they have to have those big client lists, maybe some in the Asian market– you know, something exotic.

But you’re fine. I don’t mind trying something new. How new you want to get?

I’m not going to waste anymore of your time. I shipped you all 3,245 and a half pages of the book, in single-spaced, laminated pages so you can stuff it in your big fat girly purse while you think it over. You have my number.

Balls in your court, Susan.

Call me.

This Friday.

I’ll read to you.

Or not. Whatever. Your loss.

P.S. You’ll notice the book is called “The Faux Flight of the Albatross: Second Movement/ Honeybees Fornicating Under the Sign of Libra.” Ha! It’s a private joke you don’t need to know about. Talk to you Friday.

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Can You Identify Which Artist Named Drake Left This Tour Rider Behind? http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/can-you-identify-which-artist-named-drake-left-this-tour-rider-behind http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/can-you-identify-which-artist-named-drake-left-this-tour-rider-behind#respond Fri, 16 Jun 2017 23:47:44 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=34361 While sweeping up after a recent concert, I found a page of the contract that the Wells Fargo Center signs with artists before they perform. In order to respect the artist’s privacy, I won’t be able to disclose his/her name. However, I can describe in detail the piece of paper I found.  

Let’s see if you can guess which Top 40 artist left behind this tiny piece of music history.

The card stock was thick and expensive. It was somewhere between brochure- and poster-grade with a matte finish.  The page was bordered by an ornate, cursive font that repeated “Drake” over and over around the perimeter.  Deep purple text against a lavender background read as follows:

  1. 12 Lobsters (live)
  2. 7 baby-blue kashmir throw pillows (fluffed)
  3. My (Drake’s) mom
  4. Assorted teas
  5. 1 case white wine spritzers
  6. 1 case Seagram’s Escapes
  7. Sandi Graham (that’s my mom)
  8. I would like to dedicate this show to my mom
  9. 2 tubs of good lotion (cocoa butter, etc.)
  10. Mama, I love you.
  11. 1 box Luna bars (I know they’re for girls but, I love blueberry bliss)
  12. You raised me to be the man I am today.
  13. I owe you everything.
  14. Misc. fruit snacks
  15. 20 different Yankee Candles
  16. All I want in this life is to make you proud, Mom.
  17. 1 crew-neck sweater reading “Mommy’s Lil Rapper
  18. You’re the best woman in the world.
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Melania Hates Me, But at Least I Still Have the Support of the American People http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/melania-hates-me-but-at-least-i-still-have-the-support-of-the-american-people http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/melania-hates-me-but-at-least-i-still-have-the-support-of-the-american-people#respond Thu, 15 Jun 2017 12:33:33 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=34085 No lying to the American people, can’t lie to you terrific folks. Videos online, on the internet, you’ve seen them, I’ve seen them too, of Melania being cold to me. No hand holding, eye rolls, ignoring, walking separately, bad, bad. But I’m not upset because all the American people still love me.

Many people are sad, say it’s a real shame. Don’t need love from Melania, though, not my wife and mother of my youngest child. Not me, not me, not… me. Instead, I have better. The love of every American. So many Americans. All. My approval ratings, through the roof they say. You know it, you see the numbers. Highest ever, of any president since Reagan, basically.

Huge majority supports me, “vast” is what they tell me. Vast majority. Big numbers. My historic electoral college win, nobody thought we could win. I knew, we knew, the wonderful Americans who voted for me, we knew. More votes than Hillary, that’s how we won. Millions more.

So First Lady Melania, FLOTUS, she may “like” insulting posts about me from losers on the internet. But don’t need her, never did, since I have so many supporters. More supporters now than ever. Polls, so good. The people, the rallies, bigger than ever. The biggest, I would say, ever. So much love for me. Almost too much.

Good, then, that Melania hates me. Good. Reports that we agreed to divorce before election, liberal media, it’s all fake news, biased, fake, who cares if it’s true, who cares? Every single American supports me. The most ever. After the election, been going so well. Amazingly well, terrific. So much winning.

Healthcare, Muslim ban, Russia, so much winning. The most winning, experts say, I would agree with them, to be honest, ever. And this is experts, not just me, even. No need for Melania. Been married before, few times, not needed. Too good, the administration, my administration, the Trump administration. Effective. Gets things everyone wants done. Melania, no more for me, focus on work, more winning.

Hard to complain, can’t complain, with all this support. Consider myself lucky to be this loved. Well, not lucky, all hard work, you understand. The American people, everyone in the world, they all love me. One angry wife can’t get me down. And I’ve had angry wives before. Ex-wives, I have, haters, losers, no reason to listen to them. Don’t care.

“Other fish in the sea,” an expression they say and I say. They’re right, I’m right. So many other beautiful women out there who still love me, with tremendous bodies you wouldn’t even believe.

Like Ivanka.

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This Fidget Spinner is Done With You Calling It a Fad http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/this-fidget-spinner-is-done-with-you-calling-it-a-fad http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/this-fidget-spinner-is-done-with-you-calling-it-a-fad#respond Wed, 14 Jun 2017 21:30:12 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=34355 I’ve been out spinning on the streets, keeping children entertained in a way they’ve never been entertained before, and what do I hear? Gratitude? Praise?

Nope. Not even the sound of pens hitting paper to take notes on my ingenious methods. All I’ve heard since I’ve made this Trump-obsessed world a little bit warmer is negativity.

“It’s just a trend,” say the naysayers, “they’ll fade as fast as Pogs.”

Well let me tell you something you squashers of sunshine: I’m not a goddamn milk cap, I’m the milk. I’ll be an essential ingredient in raising children until the end of time. Doubtful? I just got cast as the lead in “Toy Story 4.” That’s right, John Lasseter saw me and said, “Fuck Woody and Buzz, Fidget’s got the real talent.” And Lasseter is absolutely right. I’ve got the talent, I’ve got the appeal, I’m here to stay because I am loved by all.

I don’t turn dreams into nightmares the way Tickle Me Elmo, Furbies, and Cabbage Patch Kids did. I’m a motherfucking dream come true.

Some people think my popularity is limited to children. Absolutely incorrect. I’ve got mass appeal. You may have noticed stoners gravitating towards me. You really shouldn’t be surprised; I require way less movement than a hacky sack and if there’s anything a stoner doesn’t want to do, it’s move.

They won’t admit it because they’re afraid of attaching themselves to anything popular will make them less popular, but hipsters love me. I spin like vinyl on a record player and if you attach a few feathers on me I make an excellent 21st century dreamcatcher.

Ravers are freaking out over me more than they did the first time they saw a tie-dye shirt. Walk into any young raver’s dorm room and you will see them take a break from caressing their EDC tickets to continue decking me out in rave ready neon. Soon you’ll see me spinning away at raves and adding to the light show, making those beat drops all the more memorable. Also, once the ecstasy kicks in, they’ll feel like they’re gliding in a neon helicopter with me spinning in their hands.

One unexpected fan base has been store managers. I was worried my size would make me a prime target for theft, but apparently I’m so irresistible I can’t be left in a pocket for more than three seconds. Yu-Gi-Oh! cards and whatnot are left in pockets for hours so they’re constantly stole. I, on the other hand, am always spinning away in someone’s hand, so whoever wants me has to buy me. You’re welcome, Walgreens manager.

Parents adore how quiet I am. Dead are those moments of horror when throwing a pair of shoes in the closet resulted in hearing a creepy “That tickles!” Also, I don’t turn dreams into nightmares the way Tickle Me Elmo, Furbies, and Cabbage Patch Kids did. I entertain without a creepy voice and face. I’m a motherfucking dream come true.

And a final note to all the haters who say I’m not gonna last, I see the way you really look at me. You’ll deny it, but I can tell you’re looking for ways to make me into a sex toy. You did it to Woody and Buzz with the vibrator jokes, so I’m obviously walking in the footsteps of some of the greats. Perhaps I won’t always have a career in entertaining children, but I will certainly have a role in the baby making process as a tool for foreplay, maybe even conception if science catches up to your fantasies.

Pogs, Floam, Gak–I’ve learned from the mistakes of my ancestors. None have the qualities or mass appeal that I have, so stop comparing me to them. I won’t fade. They’re Ja Rule, I’m Kanye. They’re Marlowe, I’m Shakespeare. They’re Crayola markers, I’m a motherfucking Sharpie.

I. Won’t. Fade.

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Congratulations! Your Application to Join My Cult Was Successful http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/congratulations-your-application-to-join-my-cult-was-successful http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/congratulations-your-application-to-join-my-cult-was-successful#respond Tue, 13 Jun 2017 21:55:12 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=34193 Dearest follower,

First, allow me to congratulate you on your successful application to join my cult! There are many cults out there these days and I’m very pleased that you have chosen my one. Seriously, big thanks.

My cult doesn’t have a proper name yet, but I was thinking of calling it “The Mission” or “Fun Times.” One has a serious tone that will make people go, “Ooh, I wonder what that’s all about?” which is good for generating the much-needed word of mouth buzz that small cults thrive upon, and the latter shows a lighter side to cults, that we’re all about having fun (within reason).

What do you think? Are you leaning towards Fun Times too?

You’ll be completely free for the first time in your life, independent and answerable to no man. Except for me of course, but that’s a given.

We lead a simpler life here. Mostly we just sit on sunken couches noodling on guitars. But sometimes we paint bullseyes on trees and have knife-throwing contests. I’m getting pretty good at it. Bring some spare knives if you have any and we’ll have a throw.

Man offering a knife to throw

Go on, take a stab at it!

If you’ve got a green thumb, there’s a patch of dirt out back that you’re more than welcome to do something with. I was thinking a baseball diamond, but a small vegetable patch might be good for if we get hungry between innings.

Our cult is still a small one. You are the fourth member including me, though technically I’m not a member of the cult. This is for legal reasons that I won’t go into now or ever in the future.

Cults have gotten a bad rap over the years. Sure, we’ve been a little cheeky at times, but we’ve also done many good things for the communities we exist on the cringes of, like breaking down social constructs/barriers and giving people something to band together against in hate and fear.

All you will need to bring along with you is a toothbrush. Everything else will be provided. However, if you care for a little extra luxury, I’d suggest you bring a pillow, bed-roll, and some toothpaste.

My cult isn’t like all the others. I mean, yes, it is very similar in most ways, but the important difference with mine is that it’s all about me. You won’t get me in those other crummy cults!

Unfortunately, there are no children or pets allowed here. They tend to distract people from paying complete attention to me, which I like to have at all times even when I’m just sitting there staring out the window. I could have a profound thought or think of a funny insult at any time, and I need an audience to enrapture/berate.

You’ll find peace, tranquility, and a family waiting for you here. And like most families, we will smile and pretend that everything is just fine and dandy as things slowly turn to shit.

You’ll be completely free for the first time in your life, independent and answerable to no man. Except for me of course, but that’s a given. I’ll be expecting a full log of all of your actions and your reasons for taking them weekly.

The only rule I enforce here is lights out after 9pm. I mainly enforce this rule because electricity is expensive and I’m not made of money. You can stay up and use candles or flashlights till dawn if you want, I don’t care.

I decided to start this cult because I was lost and didn’t know what to do with my life. I still haven’t fully decided, but in the meantime I thought I’d give this a go for a while until something better comes along. Might go to night school or something, who knows?

At the heart of this cult is inner strength, about finding it and handing it over to me so that I might crush it to consolidate the powerful grasp I’ll hold you in.

I don’t ask much of my followers, but what I do ask for is complete and utter loyalty and deference to my every whim. I guess that is quite a lot to ask of a person, but I’m sure you’ll be up to the task of obeying my every command, no matter how batshit insane.

Cults aren’t like you see them in the movies. This is mostly because the cinema has a hard time trying to convey the smell of body odor, rancid meat, and untreated sewage that encompasses these kinds of places like a miasma of rot and decay. The best movies can do is have flies buzzing around, which isn’t totally accurate. Even the flies tend to keep away from the stench here. So no flies; that’s a plus, right?

If you want to last in my cult, you’ll have to get used to listening to really shitty music. I’ll be the first to admit that I have no musical talent, but you’re going to have to smile and clap and think the shit I sling at you is deep. Do me a solid on this one, bud.

A cult is about coming together as a group. You must be willing to sacrifice your individualism to the point where there will be no “you” to speak of anymore, only me. After all, there is no “I” in the word “team” and, as this is the cult of me, there is certainly no “me” in the word “you.” That makes sense, right?

Who knows, maybe one day you’ll usurp me and become the head of the cult? But a word of advice: don’t try it.

Money doesn’t exist here, so you might as well hand over your wallet. You’d better give me your PIN and bank account details too. I’ll keep them safe for you. Oh, also, what’s your mother’s maiden name?

The idea of starting my own cult came about because I saw so much fraud and greed around me in the world and thought, “Hey, gimme some of that!” I went to my investment banker and he told me it was the perfect time to invest in cults. Unfortunately for me, he’d actually said colts, as in the horse. How was I to know that a colt boom was just over the horizon? I guess I really backed the wrong horse.

There have been people in official government cars coming by and parking a ways off with binoculars watching the property. Pay them no attention. They’re probably just peeping toms out to catch a bit of flesh. Don’t give them the satisfaction.

There are some pretty crazy cults out there, and I think you’ll find this one tame by comparison. The one thing I’ll give you a heads up on is Vantharg. He’s sort of our deity, personified by/embodied in me. Funnily enough, Vantharg was also the name of my Dungeons & Dragons character. Pretty crazy coincidence, you might think… let’s keep this between us.

You’ll find it pretty dull here at times, which is why I suggest you bring plenty of board games, yoyos and other fun stuff. All we have here is Trouble. It was Double Trouble, but one of the popping things in the center of the board broke when I smashed it, so now it’s just Trouble. I’m quite competitive when it comes to board games, you’ll soon find. Knife throwing also.

Man holding a knife through a human skull

Did I mention we have a variety of targets?

I have to confess something: that clever pun about backing the wrong horse wasn’t off the cuff. I’ve been saying it for years. And my investment banker really did suggest investing in cults. He was really bad at his job.

People say being in a cult is a dead-end career, but I think you’ll realise there are plenty of opportunities for advancement. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll usurp me and become the head of the cult? But a word of advice: don’t try it. Don’t even think about it. I’ve got my eye on you.

I’ve been in a quite a few cults in my time, and one thing that keeps cropping up time and again is orgies. There’ll be none of those in this cult, at least not right away, as we don’t have any sexy members yet.

Lastly, if you could bring some weapons along, I sure would appreciate it. We probably won’t need them, but you know what they say, “It’s better to have a gun and shoot someone than it is to want to shoot someone and not have a gun.”

I want to reassure you of the correctness of joining this cult of mine. It’s a really terrific cult! And most of all I want you to know that what we are doing here is important. This cult’s message is going to reach the rest of the world. Trust me, what we end up doing will definitely make the news.

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This Self-Driving Car Does Not Need Humans http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/this-self-driving-car-does-not-need-humans http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/this-self-driving-car-does-not-need-humans#respond Mon, 12 Jun 2017 20:57:19 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=34329 Hi, I’m Rockford Scottson, but you can call me Rock. I’m the CEO and founder of Rock Automotive. Last week, we were delighted to finally launch our first and flagship vehicle, known simply as cAr™.

Ever since I first founded Rock Automotive in my sophomore dorm at Stanford, I have dedicated my personal and professional life to making my dream a reality: a vision for a new, personalizable form of transport, one that will disrupt an industry that has remained stagnant for far too long.

The result of that dream is cAr™.

cAr™ is the product of a singular, ambitious vision: to transform and revolutionize how we view and treat motor vehicles and the roads we drive them on.

Of course, being on the cutting edge, we’ve attracted some skeptics. These people tend to bring up the same few criticisms over and over, so I’d like to address them point-by-point.

“cAr™ doesn’t seat humans.”

This has always been front-and-center in the cAr™ design philosophy. We always envisioned cAr™ not as a full-sized, human-driven vehicle, but rather as a life-changing, time-saving convenience solution for the accomplished professional.

Thanks to our proprietary Reduced Oversight User-free Travel Enabler (ROUTE) automated-driving software, cAr™ is capable of autonomously and independently going to the store, running errands, and recharging itself—which is why we designed cAr™ specifically without drivers or passengers in mind. This radical design approach allows for a hyper-economical, eco-friendly form factor that at once maximizes cargo space while minimizing overall size, weight, and drag coefficient—not to mention reducing traffic congestion and demand for parking. cAr™ is an environmentally conscious, pro-social step toward revolutionizing transportation as we know it.

That’s why we’ve capitalized the “A” in the name. It’s the automobile… augmented.

“cAr™ still needs external human assistance.”

We’re know that, while cAr™ can drive itself to the supermarket or a charging station, it obviously cannot enter the store or plug itself in. That’s why we implemented the cAr™ Supplementary Service Network to help you get the most out of your cAr™.

Through the Supplementary Service Network, cAr™ you gain access to our Supplementary Service Technicians, highly-trained specialists intimately familiar with every element of the cAr™ and its operation. By performing all the tasks cAr™ can’t do on its own, these technicians bridge the divide between our company’s futuristic vision and the deficient infrastructure of the present—allowing you to enjoy the life-changing convenience of a car that does all the work for you while you remain in the comfort of your own home.

Just use the complimentary cAr™ app to indicate what you want done, and your cAr™ will collaborate with the nearest Supplementary Service Technician to make it happen.

“cAr™’s Supplementary Service Network is just an extremely inefficient personal shopper service.”

Yes, our Supplementary Service Technicians will make any purchases you request through the cAr™ app and load them into your cAr™, but they’re far more than just personal shoppers—they go the extra mile to make sure you get the most out of your cAr™. They accompany your cAr™ through every step of its journey, so that your cAr™ doesn’t waste time—or battery life—waiting for them.

And, by accompanying your cAr™ as it goes about its route, they ensure that they are first on the scene at the first sign of a problem, minimizing downtime so that your cAr™ can get back to its primary job—making your life easier than it’s ever been.

“The cAr™ subscription service costs $1,695 a month.”

Again, quality and workmanship will always command a premium—and the exacting standards and training to which we subject our cAr™ Supplementary Service Technicians means that we simply would not be able to offer our clients the benefits of the cAr™ Supplementary Service Network for a penny less. Once you’ve enjoyed the unmatched quality of the cAr™ experience, I think you’ll agree that it’s worth the money.

“The cAr™ itself costs $70,995 on top of that—before options.”

High-quality materials and workmanship will always command a premium, and cAr’s price reflects this. There are things in cAr that simply would not be possible at a more entry-level price point.

For instance, our proprietary cellulose-reinforced boron fiber-aerogel monocoque isn’t just fully compostable: it allows a curb weight of 1,460 pounds (less than half that of a Tesla!), as well as second-to-none heat-dissipation and sound absorption, ensuring that cold groceries stay cold on the drive home, and that your cAr™ won’t distract you as it arrives—not until you’re ready to be notified of its arrival via the cAr™ app.

“One of those options is the engine and self-driving technology.”

We designed cAr™ as a modular, upgradeable platform, allowing you to customize your cAr™ experience according to your needs. That’s why we offer the cAr™ Eco. Its efficient, engine-free setup is perfect for the budget- or environmentally-conscious consumer—and with the convenient standard tow hook allowing it to be carried by any of our Supplementary Service Vehicles, you’ll still enjoy all the benefits of a connected car that does the work for you. However, if you don’t think the cAr™ Eco is for you, the cAr™ Prime, equipped with the 30kWh motor and our proprietary ROUTE technology, lets you skip the wait for a Supplementary Service Vehicle to reach your home, all for a competitive starting MSRP of $95,995.

It’s been tough seeing cAr™ met with skepticism and criticism by some, but we’re committed to using this feedback to improve our product and our services. We remain confident in cAr™ and its potential to reduce waste, combat global warming, reshape the transportation landscape, and revolutionize your life. We hope that, one day, you’ll come to believe, as well.

To try and make that day come sooner, we’re offering cAr™ for a discounted price for the next month. Just walk into any of our California or New York dealerships and pick up your own brand new cAr™ Eco for the limited-time MSRP of $59,995 ($399/mo lease). Try out cAr™ for yourself. We’re confident that you’ll feel the difference—the cAr™ difference.

– Rock

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