
Every good campaign has a catchy slogan. Pretend this is one.
Finally, after minutes of brainstorming ways to make a difference in this broken world, leave a lasting legacy, and accept money from strangers in exchange for pleasant-sounding promises, something has popped into my head that’s hopefully the magic bullet everyone needs, and by “everyone” I mean my bill collectors and I. I hope you’ll hear me out and then shower me with gifts so I can make my brand new dream come true if I work hard enough, the stars align, miracles happen, and no one stops to think anything through.
The Premise:
We can be certain of few things in life, but three of those things are these:
1. People want to kill fewer trees.
2. People will always be sloppy eaters.
3. People want phone apps to do everything for them.
The man who figures out how to combine those three arbitrarily chosen certainties will be the next man to rule the world. I agree with the puzzled look on your face that my path to world domination and self-esteem is littered with several obstacles, including but not limited to the laws of physics.
The Proposal:
I give you three magic words: a paperless napkin app. Sounds like nonsense, right? Fine. Let’s try branding this new invention, based on a suggestion from my Marketing Department.
“Ultracausal Hygiene Science!”
“My Marketing Department” is the name of one of the voices in my head. I call him “Marky” for short.
Everyone has that problem, right? You eat food or have a drink, you get something on your face or hands or clothing, and your day is ruined unless you waste time and a napkin cleaning yourself off. That’s a lot of effort to correct such a simple fumbling. Worse still, every time you use a napkin to wipe off ketchup or beurre blanc or pizza grease or whatever, an acre of foreign rainforest is razed and replaced by a Subway franchise. Oh, how the conscience is seared with each and every clumsy stain.
The UHS process (patent application as yet unsubmitted) will simplify everything, do the hard work for you, and save the day for any number of endangered species, which are far more integral to our ecosphere than five-dollar footlongs. Once we work out the kinks, such as the theoretical impossibility of it all, UHS steps in like so:
1. Eater gets food on face.
2. Eater activates UHS app on smartphone.
3. Magical wireless disintegration.
4. Eater’s outer surfaces are restored to their original sheen.
If that’s too many words, enclosed below are the technical specs for the prototype, a suitable visual aid for imparting the wonder of UHS to small children and illiterate friends. (Note: If they have no money, please don’t bother showing this to them.)

Technical specs provided for professional use only. Do not attempt to replicate and ruin my livelihood.
The Problem:
For the life of me, I can’t figure out how to make a touchscreen button do manual nanny labor. Most disintegration beams will destroy the head along with the cheese dribble and drain your phone battery in seconds. In order to “go green” so that obscure salamanders might live and all of us can be a little lazier while chewing, the UHS app will need to employ a combination of laser precision, doctoral chemistry, and possibly 64th-century super-advanced science that defies physical causality and resembles magic to our primitive eyes.
No one said this would be easy. Then again, no one told me this would be hard, either. That’s because I didn’t bother running this by anyone else first before stunning the world with my genius. I’d rather preserve my greedy denial than enable their realistic negativity.
The Pleading:
Bottom line: to get from Point A to Point B, which happen to be twelve parsecs apart, I need wagonloads of money to throw at this problem. I haven’t figured out what to do with said money, but I’m sure that next step will work itself out once the money is safely in my PayPal account.
That’s where You, the Viewers at Home, come in. I need your trust, your money, and your support, probably in that order. Money’s the most important of the trio, though, so let’s work on that.
If it helps, here’s a celebrity endorsement that I just wrote. RECEIVED. I meant “an endorsement that I just received.” Everyone ignore the typo and do what this photo of an Academy Award winner says.
The Prizes:
I’m told people love donating money if they’re promised rewards in return. To me that’s not “donating”, but “purchasing”. But hey, as long as the system works in my favor, I don’t think there’s any need to bring the dictionary into this.
My target funding goal is $100,000,000,000.00. Part of my plan involves time travel and never working another full-time job for the rest of my life, so I figure the bar needs to be set at an extravagant level. I hope everyone’s cool with that. In return, I’ll promise you some rewards in exchange for your pledge. This campaign ends in thirty days, at which time reward fulfillment will begin if I’m in the mood.
Pledge $1 or more: You’ll receive an automated response to your donation.
(Promised delivery date: upon completion of processing. Actual delivery date: same, as long as our Geocities account still works.)
Pledge $5 or more: You’ll receive an automated response to your donation that includes the word “Thanks!”
(Promised delivery date: upon completion of processing. Actual delivery date: within 5-10 business days, if I remember to.)
Pledge $10 or more: Your name listed in a future special-thanks postscript embedded in the Revolution season 2 finale recap.
(Promised delivery date: May 2014. Actual delivery date: June 2014. Give or take a month.)
Pledge $20 or more: Two automated responses to your donation.
(Promised delivery date: Upon completion of processing. Actual delivery date: like, y’know, whenever.)
Pledge $30 or more: All of the above plus a replica napkin like the one at the top of this page. Maybe with a different color ink.
(Promised delivery date: July 2014. Actual delivery date: October 2014.)
Pledge $50 or more: All of the above plus the latest issue of our local newspaper when we’re done reading it. I guarantee the Sports section will be like new.
(Promised delivery date: August 2014. Actual delivery date: January 2015.)
Pledge $100 or more: All of the above plus a stick-figure drawing that you can pretend is your personalized caricature.
(Promised delivery date: September 2014. Actual delivery date: March 2016.)
Pledge $250.00 or more: All of the above, plus the stick-figure caricature will be autographed.
(Promised delivery date: October 2014. Actual delivery date: 2061: Odyssey Three.)
Pledge $500.00 or more: All of the above plus an 8″-x-8″ photocopy of the original artwork for the UHS app icon.
(Promised delivery date: November 2014. Actual delivery date: upon the birth of my first great-grandchild. My son says don’t hold your breath.)
Pledge $1,000.00 or more: All of the above plus my personal permission to download the app when it’s available for you to purchase.
(Promised delivery date: December 2014. Actual delivery date: In the Year 2525.)
Pledge $5,000.00 or more: All of the above plus exclusive updates from Zachary Levi’s Indiegogo campaign to fund a million-dollar San Diego Comic Con party. That’s assuming I can find someone to sneak the updates to me.
(Promised delivery date: January 2015. Actual delivery date: You’ll probably find these on your own first.)
Pledge $10,000.00 or more: All of the above plus my copy of a hypothetical Mary Lou Lord CD that’s now 2½ years overdue. [Limit: 1 backer.]
(Promised delivery date: February 2015. Actual delivery date: the 12th of Neverary.)
Pledge $50,000.00 or more: All of the above plus the UHS app.
(Promised delivery date: March 2015. Actual delivery date: the end of time.)
Pledge $100,000.00 or more: All of the above plus the Official Troubleshooting Guide for the UHS app. Nook users only.
(Promised delivery date: April 2015. Actual delivery date: may require Time Lord assistance.)
Pledge $500,000.00 or more: All of the above plus a UHS T-shirt with our next ad slogan, “UHS Wipes Out Wiping!” Sizes small and medium only.
(Promised delivery date: May 2015. Actual delivery date: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha SUCKER.)
Pledge $1,000,000.00 or more: All of the above plus…man, I don’t know. Something really cool? Hopefully? Or how about a nice $5 Subway gift card?
(Promised delivery date: June 2016. Actual delivery date: Seriously?)
The Pledges:
Yes, you may start making some now. Internet operatorbots are standing by! The sooner you start, the faster I get what’s coming to me. Thanks!
nice post….
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Genius! 🙂
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Brilliant! I’m in for a cool million. Check’s in the mail. I mean check your paypal acct on the 32nd of March for my deposit. Hilarious post, Randall.
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Thanks! Wow, I’m gonna run out and spend that cool million right now! On science things, of course. Best Buy carries science things, right? Next to the eight-dollar Blu-ray bin? I’m gonna try there. For science.
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Hahahaha! Excellent commentary on the concept.
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Thanks! My experiences as a frequently disappointed backer sure haven’t left me TOO sour. 😀
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