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Fun things to do with Six Trillion Dollars No. 20. Just give it all to me.

February 22, 2015


No wait, hear me out.  I believe I can make a good case for this.  Giving it all to me actually makes a lot of sense.  This is me when I was a lot younger.  I could try and look like this again – if I had six trillion dollars to pay people at the cutting edge of medical science.


Of course, we could always try one of these other ideas for our six trillion.  I suppose…

But really, I do think that giving it all to me is a plan that’s seriously worth considering.  Here’s what I’ll do with the 25% of the 24 offshored trillions if just handed to me on plate.  (A very very very big plate.)  First of all I will put aside 60 million dollars to ensure that my family will never want for anything and will have every intellectual and cultural opportunity imaginable. I call this my “guilt tax”. It constitutes 0.001% of the total.

The rest of it I will spend. Yes spend.  I will attempt to gratify every single expensive appetite my fevered and tortured imagination is capable of contemplating.

The only thing I promise not to do is bury it.  I will sign a piece of paper saying I will agree to death by keelhauling if I am caught trying to bury or hide any of my gargantuan fortune (with the exception of the 0.001% guilt tax already mentioned).  I will instead spend it on castles.  I will spend it on drink.  I will spend a great deal of it on cheese.  I will hire cheesemakers to invent special cheese that tastes delicious and which actually makes you thin.  I actually have a portfolio of bizarre and expensive cheese related projects.  I will  invest in projects that will make my hair thicker and more lustrous and my library of eighteenth-century first editions will be something to behold.  I will buy Alan Rickman and keep him in a wardrobe in my office, and when my enemies tremble before me, I will say “I cannot possibly express the full extent of my contempt for you – but I know a man who can….”  I will build the world’s biggest roller coaster. I will go into space.

The reason why I think it might be a good idea to give me six trillion dollars is that the kind of complicated fun I intend to have will create a lot of jobs.  All those sculptors and engineers who’ll be chiselling my face into mountain sides will need to be paid.  As will the cheesemakers.  As will Alan Rickman.  The scientists who will be working round the clock to restore my lost youth and to infinitely prolong my life will also have to be paid.

Not only will my ludicrous appetites involve job-creation, they will have both foreseeable and unforeseeable scientific and social benefits.  If enough money is pumped into keeping me alive and healthy and pretty for as long as possible, then it is impossible for such research not to end up benefiting others.  The things of beauty that I intend to surround myself with and the places of beauty I intend to inhabit cannot help but give pleasure to others.  I intend, in short, to spill.

By contrast, the Lords of Offshore are a dull and joyless bunch.  They never quaff their full measure from the cup of life for fear that they may spill a few drops which others might catch.  They would rather go without themselves than accidentally contribute to the betterment of others.  They are anally fixated bouncers, whose supreme sensual gratification is the denial of access to others.  Your name’s not down – you’re not getting in.  Our global economy is being managed for the benefit of people who are not really alive themselves – or whose only conception of life is in knowing they are denying others life.

If I’m given the six trillion, I will at least promise to be a highwayman – not a pirate.  And I’ll be Macheath.  Not Peachum.


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