Don't Fuck With Robin Hood, Sheriff of Bankerham

Yesterday, a friend in the UK posted a link to her Facebook page for a project she's involved with: The Robin Hood Tax. Go check it out. There's a nice little video featuring Bill Nighy as a douchey banker trying to explain why this tax is a bad idea. (It's not a bad idea, by the way.)

The short of it is that by taxing banks 0.05% on non-consumer speculative trading, billions of dollars could be raised for, well, good things for real people.

So this project launches yesterday and people can vote on whether or not they think it's a good idea. The broad assumption from the people involved is that most regular people will agree with the sentiments. Supporters invite their friends and they outnumber the people who think it's a bad idea.

Well, within hours, people who thought it was a bad idea were voting at the rate of six votes per second. The Robin Hood Tax people thought something was a little strange with this scenario, so they shut down the site for a while to investigate.

This morning, the computer team had traced the IP address for the rapid voter back to... shocker of all shockers... a Goldman Sachs office in London. Goldman Sachs says it's "investigating the matter fully."

My UK friend assures me that the Robin Hood Tax movement will be making its way to the United States before too long. I like simple, good, easy-to-understand ideas. Well done, coalition-of-UK-organizations.

Heather Must've Made that Nasty Potato

Hey, B&E readers! I've insulted a Scot! And it wasn't even the missus!

Heather didn't much care for my review of the bad Scottish cuisine from our trip last May. And apparently she didn't stick around long enough to read my raves about the better food.

Alas, she seemed particularly irritated at my attitude toward the baked potato with tuna mayonnaise:

What did he expect when he ordered a baked potato with tuna mayo? And what's wrong with tuna in a potato anyway?

Bloody typical yank.

Why don't you just stay over in America and eat your McDonald's you tosser.

Well, I couldn't say nothing, so I posted the following comment back, one I don't expect Heather will ever see:

Dearest Heather, if that is indeed your name...

First of all, I'm not sure what about this posting makes you think I'm a bloody typical yank. I'm married to a Scotswoman, and her father (who ordered the tuna-in-a-potato concoction) is also a Scot. I think that makes me an atypical Yank.

Also, I'm not bleeding.

Secondly, I don't eat at McDonald's. It McSucks.

Thirdly, I love Scotland and the Scots, which might explain why I fell in love with and married one.

Fourthly, Scotland relies on tourism for its economy, and insulting the tourists won't do much for the future of the country.

Fifthly, when my father-in-law ordered a baked potato with tuna mayo, he was expecting both the potato and the tuna mayo to be edible. They weren't.

Sixthly, tuna in a potato is like putting corn on a pizza. If you're still reading this, Heather, I would like you to explain this particular phenomenon to me as well.

Seventhly, I don't particularly want to stay over in America all the time. It's good to get out of the country for a change in perspective once in a while. When we Americans don't see the world, we tend to invade countries. Not good.

Eighthly, I only occasionally toss, but fair point.

Ninthly, the missus has much to say to you about this, but this is my blog, so she can either add her own comment or stop telling me what to write.

I would like to express to Heather my deepest and sincerest apologies for insulting her national cuisine.

Because I may well someday live in Heather's home country, it is not a good idea for me to burn any bridges. Can we be friends, Heather? Maybe Facebook friends? Can I follow you on Twitter?

Wonder Who Administers His Page

So I do a bit of dabbling in the social media. Just dabbling. I admit that I've been won over by the charm of Facebook, or at least the charm of some of the people with whom I've reconnected on Facebook.

This whole "fan" thing has me a little confused. I actually had to join Facebook in the first place for work, so naturally I've become a fan of a couple of clients. And I'm sure I've become a fan of a few other things as well (my high school theater teacher retired this year, and I'm pretty sure I'm his fan).

But I also get "fan suggestions" constantly. No, I will not become a fan of Starbucks. No, I don't think I want to be a fan of Target. Not only do they not need my fandom, but I also just much care for them. I don't think I need to be a fan of corporations.

There are odd fan options, too. Early in my Facebook days, I think I may have become a fan of sleep. You can be a fan of just about anything. You can be a fan of thunderstorms, if you want.

Today, Facebook suggested that I become a fan of God. Naturally, a few of my friends are already His fan. Well, that is a ponder.

Part of me gets sad thinking that God needs to turn to social networking to keep His marketing edge. Part of me wonders what happens if I don't become God's fan. I would probably have to de-fan lightning. Or perhaps if I'm a fan of lightning, it wouldn't strike me down. Part of me suspects that God actually has nothing to do with His page, sort of like my response when I see players thanking The Big Guy on the baseball field - "Dude, I suspect that God isn't micromanaging this game." Part of me wonders if you have to be God's fan in order to benefit from the Rapture. And what does it mean to benefit from the Rapture anyway? I mean, if all of the people who believe in the Rapture get Raptured, wouldn't earth be a lovely, peaceful, less hateful place? Part of me would rather, quite frankly, be God's friend than His fan. At least then it's a two-way relationship. Part of me wonders whose God this is exactly. What if I become His fan, and it's not the Judeo-Christian God I was expecting, but rather the Aztec God of War, Huitzilopochtli? It gets pretty awkward having to de-fan or de-friend someone on Facebook, and I don't particularly want Huitzilopochtli pissed off at me, do I?

Dude, I have enough problems without getting into a whole Facebook drama with God. But if I just ignore the suggestion, will He know?