Monday, 25 April 2016

Monetary Abuse


Auctioneer - “It’s just money people, the banks print it down the road every day!”

The Spear recently heard an auctioneer use the above line to try and elicit more bids from a gathered crowd.  When The Spear first heard it, he thought it a cheap gimmick - a play at people’s irrationality and an appeal to emotion.  But the more The Spear thinks about it, the more he comes to believe that for all intents and purposes, the auctioneer was right.  

Money, once a gold-backed standard, has been used and abused so much in recent times that one can see how buying into the perverse logic of maximising debt-accumulation for hard asset purchases becomes not so much a matter of choice, but a matter of necessity.  As weak individuals held captive by our monetary system, sitting out the game is not an option.

Do you seriously believe that this far down the rabbit hole of Zero rates, Negative rates, Quantitative Easing, Currency Wars, Bailouts, Corporate Bond Purchases, Stock market intervention and the like, that the governments of the world will sit idly by and let their economies go bust without playing out the game Monetary Abuse to the very end?

One need only look to the 2013 budget to see where attempts at even moderate fiscal restraint and the reversal of debt-accumulation get you these days: a one-way ticket on the Siberian express (just ask Tony).  The people want MOAR, so MOAR is what they shall get.  Something for nothing is the motto of the day.

Japan and pockets of Europe are nearing what The Spear would refer to as the ‘end-game’ of Monetary Abuse.  Policies such as Negative Rates aren’t even having the desired consequences, such as a weaker currency. The aura of infallibility surrounding the masters of the monetary presses, the reserve bankers, is waning. It seems that the Neo-Keynesian model of injecting money with crack to keep it hustling is beginning to break.

After just one rate rise in Dec 15 by the Fed, the markets went into meltdown in early 2016 until the doves were force-bred, released and made to do laps around the trading rooms of the world.  In an era of forward-guidance, where the words of central bankers and their perceived motives can move markets far more than actions, chairwoman Yellen seems to have thrown in the towel on rate normalisation.  The markets want MOAR, so MOAR is what they shall get.  Something for nothing is the order of the day.

There’s lies, damned lies and statistics. Bastardised inflation measures ignore the reality of rapid asset price appreciation, and the incentive to design inflation measures to show minimal inflation is significant.  How better to reduce the real burden of unsustainable government benefits which are pegged to CPI indexes?  Let the silent, unmeasured inflation do its work without losing a single vote.

All of this leaves the man and woman on the street in a pickle of a situation.  Unrewarded, nay, even punished for saving.  Shrinking government support in real terms (unless perhaps you happen to be working as part of the protected sect of civil servants, with your ring-fenced Future Fund just to make sure that YOUR benefits can be paid in full).  Your investment-property owning elected politicians well and truly captured by the system.  A global environment of competitive money-printing.  How to prevent one’s wealth from being abrogated by the funny-money beast?

You borrow.  You borrow to the hilt, because that’s all you can do.  You buy your assets and vote for MOAR, because that is the only way you will never have to reap what you sow: just like the rest of them.  Because something doesn’t come for nothing, why should you continue paying for the excesses of others?

Of course none of this ends well.  You hope the inevitable depression or revolution doesn’t come in your time, but eventually it will.  Once the carcass of the funny money can be jolted with electricity and made to dance no more, the inequity becomes too hard to hide.  How does one buy votes once money has been murdered?  But before that day comes, there’s a lot of Helicopter Money and other zany schemes to look forward to.

Don’t blame money.  Don’t blame those who try to make it.  Blame those at the top who abused it in the quest for power and left us in this seemingly inescapable situation.  It is they who force the hands of individuals to do what they would otherwise not.

Something for nothing?  Sounds like a vote-winner to The Spear.

Tuesday, 19 April 2016

Serious Sillyness


There is this vague feeling which permeates The Spear’s existence, at once everywhere yet seemingly out of reach, to be sensed but never gazed upon.  Perhaps it is angst, anxiety, or maybe just good old fashioned depression, but in many ways is is simply the struggle of a life taken seriously.

The Spear wishes he wasn’t such a serious person.  While it has its advantages, typically material in nature, it can sometimes make life seem like just another job to be completed as quickly and efficiently as possible.  To what end this mindset could possibly serve beyond survival of the species is quite mysterious, and certainly not voluntary.

To be a serious person means to also be thinking quite far into the future, and to be as self-reliant and responsible as possible.  Much planning and forethought is given to decisions, and there is always a long term plan to be achieved.  To the serious person, life is essentially a series of problems to be solved, a test to be passed.

The problem is nobody's really keeping score except yourself, but you happen to be the harshest judge.  It’s like performing on stage to an empty hall, but still being nervous about the review.  The fear of failure is palpable, and haunts your exam-hall laden dreams.

So it’s great when you find someone who can make you lighten up a bit and engage in some sillyness with.  The Spear has spent most of his life in a form of homeostasis, fluctuating between extremes of seriousness and sillyness.  As you flick through Spearbook, you will find philosophic monologues interspersed with satirical tidbits.  On the whole, there is a form of balance.

Sillyness is like a release valve to the pressure of the struggle.  It’s free to consume, and healthier than alcohol or drugs.  And while sillyness in itself may not count for much, when it comes from a serious person, with the dedication and application that only a serious person can bring to the game, there are few things more splendorous.

Sunday, 10 April 2016

Nick-Name Mainframe


The Spear has probably already told you, but he isn’t the best with names.  Perhaps it’s his occupation’s preoccupation with numbers, or maybe his slightly misanthropic bent, but for whatever reason he finds it quite difficult to remember a name in the first instance.  He estimates his introduction recall ‘hit rate’ at around 20%.


Obviously there can be extenuating circumstances, such as the introduction to a mass number of people in a short time, however The Spear is left with the feeling that his brain isn’t doing all it could to help him in the faux-pas inducing matter.  Luckily for The current Spear however, the past Spear once upon a time did some reading into the mastery of memory, namely by reading the book ‘Master Your Memory’ by Tony Buzan (2000), which he did some re-reading of today.


Now clearly, having to re-read a book entitled ‘Master Your Memory’ isn’t exactly a glowing endorsement in itself.  That aside, by re-reading the book The Spear was able to once again come to grips with how flexible memory is.  His own memory of the book as a very in-depth encyclopedia of memory-mastering knowledge was quickly dismissed as he proceeded to rubbish three-quarters of the book as mere filler material (lists of things to remember), with there being only a few key takeaways of importance.


In a nutshell, ASSOCIATION is key.  If you can manage to associate the person with their name in some unique way, especially involving imagery and humour, you will be far more likely to remember it next time around.  That’s just how our brains are wired to remember things.


For instance, The Spear remembers he once met a woman called Beth, an utterly forgettable name in itself.  In order to imprint the name on his memory, he associated the word with ‘death’, and then imagined the woman walking around in a grim-reaper outfit, sickle and all.  That he can still remember it today, not having seen this person for some five or six years, has gotta be worth something.


What really grates The Spear though is when there are too many people with the same name.  If he meets another five Beth’s this week, is he going to be able to remember another five grim reapers as accurately as the first?  Probably not, and herein lies the importance of nicknames.


Several of The Spear’s colleagues must communicate very quickly and very clearly over an intercom system, with any mistakes potentially costing millions of dollars.  Whether it is an institutional policy or just an organic phenomenon, The Spear does not know, but they all refer to each other by nickname (usually associated to the person through some humorous anecdote).


What’s in a name? The Spear once asked.  Well, what is in any good nickname is patently clear:


  1. It’s ability to uniquely identify someone within the group of use
  2. Brevity


The etymology of ‘Nickname’ apparently is derived from ‘ick’, meaning additional, and ‘name’; in other words, an additional name, one can only assume to better identify someone.  That they happen to be short seems more of a matter of utility.  The longer the name, the less useful it is for day-to-day needs.  A good rule would be, the longer the name/title, the less removed from the ‘real’ world the person/position is.


When you think about it, nicknames are probably our most important names: they’re the ones that stick. To not be given a nickname by others when you do have common name could be considered a sign of a lack of worth in their psyche.  Why give a nickname to someone that you don’t intend to talk to or remember?

But then again, for all of you solipsist misanthropists out there, what’s so good about a unique place in the psyche of other people?

Wednesday, 23 March 2016

Stapler v Machine Gun



The timing was questionable out of respect, but on the other hand, it was apt.  Today, the day after the Belgian terrorist attacks, The Spear’s workplace asked him to complete a mandatory ‘gun violence awareness’ training.

Now before you ask, The Spear does work for a large American firm, so it is likely that the training had been planned for many months, and is perhaps standard practice so far as the U-S of A is concerned.  Residing in relatively gun-violence free Australia, The Spear nevertheless  thought, sure - what the hell - it’s better to be safe than sorry, surely those gun-toting Americans will have some handy tips to avoid the next Sydney Siege.

They don’t.  

In short, if a guy with a gun comes into your office, you’re fucked mate.

Among the not-so-handy hints was the application of the ‘run, hide, fight’ technique (in that specific order), the latter which is to be done with ‘staplers, fire extinguishers, and any other objects around the office’.  Staplers. Seriously?  

The Spear can see it now -

“Run! Run! There’s an AK-toting badass wasting people in the corridor!”

“Never fear, let me just grab my trusty kikki-k brand transparent stapler and I’ll give that mo-fo a connecting-together that he won’t soon forget!”

“Praise be to you Spear, our mighty saviour!”

“Now I’m no hero, I’m just following the manual.  Ummm…. would anybody have some staples?”

What’s sad is that this is actually the best we can do now.  This blog is neither pro nor anti gun, it is just stating the facts.  And the fact is, if a guy with a gun comes into your office or cinema or restaurant or airport, YOU ARE ON YOUR OWN.

THE TRAINING SPECIFICALLY SAID THIS.

Now, there is a little theory you may have heard of called the “social contract”, one very important element of which is that citizens essentially give up their right to protect themselves and punish transgressors, and hand over that power to the common government.  In return, the government should enforce laws and agreements protecting people’s safety and property.  That’s the deal (and some would say the First Duty of government).

Now let’s say you’re having a coffee in a coffee shop in Martin Place and a guy with a shotgun barges in.  There you are, with your stapler, unable to run, hide or fightback. The defence authorities, fearful of the consequences of their actions, inevitably try to wait it out and hope the situation will sort itself out somehow.  As they have shown, they will only act immediately after somebody is put in mortal danger and likely killed (gotta cover those arses, legally, ya know, for the inevitable royal commission).

Too bad if it happens to be you or somebody you love on the day.  It’s just fate.  Nothing you could do about it.

This defeatist attitude is truly disgusting, a prime example of which can be seen in today’s AFR regarding the Belgian bombings, Don’t leap to conclusions on borders or anything else.  In the article we are told,

[in defence of open borders]

“These events, though, invariably also get used for political purposes to draw conclusions that have no relevance whatsoever...

What is known is that Brussels has one of the highest concentrations of extremist cells in Europe. They don't need a Schengen visa to drive up the road to the airport.

AS IF THE ISLAMIST TERRORIST CELLS SPONTANEOUSLY SPAWNED FROM THE NATIVE BELGIAN POPULATION

Second, let's accept that the bombers did have to cross a Schengen border to carry out their attack. That's certainly possible, but would border posts prevent them? Belgium is not separated from its neighbors by 25 miles of water, as is the U.K. So the border controls that existed before Schengen, and which in some cases now do again in the wake of the refugee crisis and last year's Paris attacks, conduct only partial and random checks on the immense flow of traffic crossing Europe's internal frontiers.
When they do, there is no guarantee border police will understand who is in front of them even if they stop the right cars. Salah Abdeslam, wanted after the Paris attacks, was stopped at a police checkpoint on the road from Paris to Brussels. He was let go.”
You get the gist.  It’s all too hard.  COME ON IN BUDDIES, WE MISSED THE LAST GUY, SO WE’VE JUST STOPPED TRYING.

Domestic gun violence in the US is one thing, and is probably past a critical point where the government can no longer effectively control possession, so why not give the average man back his right to self-defense through legal gun ownership (a vicious circle)?  But to effectively let your borders go like Europe has, and to afford more rights to criminals who remain purposely outside of the system (forgot my passport mate), and thus cannot be deported etc, borders on the insane.  It’s like some crazy game to see who can mount the highest of moral high-grounds, whereby you let someone stab you in the eye to prove just how tolerant you are.

With the social contract fraying, how long will it be before we see the elected governments of Europe (and possibly America, whereby the working class have been sold out by a double-whammy of illegal worker immigration and job offshoring) get thrown out in favour of right-wing hardliners?

Any wonder why Trump is coming up Trumps?

Sunday, 7 February 2016

Waleed Aly goes Full Retard on Immigration


The Spear doesn’t enjoy writing politically charged articles.  They are destructive to his friendships with those of other political persuasions, are often somewhat subjective in nature, and rarely - if ever - succeed in making people change their stance one way or the other (if anything, the cognitive dissonance seems to harden like forged steel upon contact with an opposing force).  Essentially, they are a waste of time.


Yet every now and then The Spear can’t help it.  From time to time, there comes a ‘news’ piece which riles him up to the point where he must put fingers to keyboard in the hope of at least articulating an opposing point of view, personal consequences be damned.


The said article in this instance is from none other than progressive media darling Waleed Aly, you know, the guy who get’s oh so furious about a ‘weak’ ISIS (that kill Parisians in the street and blow up Russian airliners) that his politically correct moral indignation cannot help but go viral.  


In his February 5th article Nauru: How long can we keep lying to ourselves?, Aly laments the government’s offshore immigration detention regime.  In typical Aly style, the problems with the regime - namely its tenuous legality and human rights implications - are aired, but with no alternatives put forward.  We are asked to consider the fate of a five year old boy who may have been raped in detention, and the plight of 37 babies that are to be sent back to Nauru, as if these problems can be considered in isolation.


In true leftist wishful-thinking style, we are not asked to consider the consequences of acting otherwise. The potential deaths at sea, human rights abuses by people smugglers, bodies washing up on shorelines, raping of local boys by refugees, loss of border control and inundation by a tide of economic migrants is largely ignored, except where to condescendingly hint that such things would not occur if policy were changed.


Has Aly forgotten the dismantling of the Pacific Solution under Labor in 2008 and its dire consequences, requiring the reopening of offshore processing by Labor in 2012?  Has Aly not seen the crisis unfolding in Europe currently, whereby border-controls are being resurrected lest the European welfare-state model collapse entirely?


The real question is how long can the left keep lying to themselves about the consequences of open borders, you know Waleed, those ‘make-believe’ things you mention, which are indeed non-existent if they are not enforced and controlled?  How long can you pretend that there aren’t people out there who are less than genuine, who will take advantage of your kindness (naivety?), who will use women and children as bargaining chips, who have no intention of integrating into your society beyond the benefit system, who actually intend to do you harm?  How long can you pretend that people won’t respond to incentives and act in their self-interest?


All there is is power, and those who are willing to use it.  Australia is a prosperous and wealthy nation, a relatively powerful one in its little corner of the globe.  But without the willingness to use power, it risks being taken advantage of.  Without enforcing its borders, it will fail to have them.  And on that day Waleed, to paraphrase yourself, then who will we be?  A question which many Europeans must be asking themselves currently.

Thursday, 5 November 2015

The Lost Seinfeld Episode


The Spear is a massive fan of Seinfeld, so he thought he would write his own episode as an homage.  He hopes you enjoy reading it as much as he enjoyed writing it!
THE BELT
Jerry Performing In the Comedy Club
The belt has got to be the most embarrassing invention of all time.  We, as a human species, literally need something whose sole function, is to stop our pants from falling down. 
What do you reckon people were doing before the invention of the belt? 
It must have been so annoying having to walk around, only being able to use one hand all day.  It would have been nearly impossible to give someone a hug without your pants falling down, which I guess is why you only tend to hug people who you are extremely close with.
Or did the rich people just hire somebody to follow them around, whose sole job was to hold their pants up for them? I bet you that’s how the first conga-line started, it was just a whole bunch of guys who had come to an agreement to hold each other’s pants up whenever they went out of the house.  (Imitating a conga line) “Hey you know what Bill, this is actually kinda fun”
Intro music plays
Jerry and George are sitting at the Coffee Shop
George:  So you know I’ve got an interview this afternoon at Elaine’s office.
Jerry:  Yeah I heard.  What position was it for again?
George:  Assistant to the Manager of Sales.  Or was it Manager of the Sales Assistant...  Ahh who am I kidding, I don’t know.
Jerry:  Way to go for her to come through on the friendship like that.  Especially after what happened at Pendant….
George:  Ya..
Jerry:  What?
George:  Yeah, huh, like she’s doing me a huge favour. 
Jerry:  You’d rather she didn’t set up the interview?
George:  You know I can tell she’s only doing it so she can claim the high-ground.
Jerry: What high-ground?
George:  You know.. oh hoh!
Jerry: Can’t you just be grateful for once that another human being has done you a favour?
George:  At this point in my life, I’ve had it with favours.  I’m all favoured out.  They always come with this unspoken obligation of reciprocity that I can never repay.
Jerry:  So if you can’t take a favour, what can you take?
George:  Pity.  I’ll take open pity any day over a veiled favour.  At least you know what you’re getting with pity.
Jerry:  And just like that, we’ve reached a new low.
Kramer enters the coffee shop, dishevelled and slightly smouldering
Jerry:  Hey, what happened to you?
Kramer:  Fire.. Dig-i-dig.
George & Jerry: A fire, what, what happened?
Kramer:  Ya, you know, a fire…  There I was, walking down 8th Avenue, when I see this bin.. smouldering.
George:  Smouldering?
Kramer:  Mmpop! Smouldering!  You know, like from a cigarette.  So as I get a bit closer, flames, start shooting out like a rocket, so I grabbed my jacket and started hitting it out, like a this, until eventually it dies out.
Jerry:  Why didn’t you call the fire brigade?
Kramer:  What, and wait for it to take out the entire block!  Sometimes you’ve got to take a little responsibility for what’s going on in your life!
George:  I never had the nerve to call 911.  I’m always afraid that my emergency won’t be important enough, and the operator will yell at me for wasting their time.
Kramer:  That’s why you should always deal with it yourself first.  Mmpop!  Like a real man!
Jerry:  That’s the problem…
Change scene to Elaine’s Workplace.  Elaine is sitting at her desk doing work.  Elaine’s colleague Peggy enters.
Peggy:  So Elaine, is your friend George still coming in for the interview this afternoon?
Elaine:  Mmm yup.  He will definitely be here.
Peggy:  Excellent.  I’m really looking forward to meeting him, he sounds like a real character.
Elaine:  Ya, he’s a real go-getter.
Peggy:  Great.  Oh, will you be able to make it to the lunchtime presentation today?
Elaine:  Oh no, sorry. I’ve got plans.
Peggy:  Oh, I see plans (looks uncomfortable).  Very well (leaves).
Elaine:  Very well? (consults calendar) LGBTI Solidarity Day.  (slaps hand to head, looks distressed)
Change scene to Jerry’s Apartment – Jerry and Elaine together in apartment
Elaine:  LGBTI Jerry!  I said I couldn’t attend the LGBTI solidarity event because I had plans!
Jerry:  I’m sure they’ll understand.
Elaine:  You don’t know the people I work with Jerry, they’re very much into this sort of thing!  I feel terrible!  Here’s your stupid belt back by the way – it was too big for Putty as well.
Jerry:  I don’t know what my grandmother was thinking.  You could gather the neighbourhood kids and play jump-rope with this thing.
Elaine:  What does the ‘i’ stand for in LGBTI anyway?
Jerry:  Inter-sex, I think.
Elaine:  Inter-sex?  What’s that?
Jerry:  I assume it is somebody who is in-between the sexes.
Elaine:  So then what’s Trans?
Jerry: I don’t know, why don’t you ask them?
Buzzer sounds
George: Yo.
Jerry:  Yo (buzzes him up).
Jerry:  So you and George working together again, that would be something, huh?
Elaine:  Yeah… You know, don’t say anything, but I’m kind of hoping he doesn’t get the job.  You know, after what happened last time at Pendant…
Jerry:  Well if you didn’t want him to get the job, then why did you arrange the interview?
Elaine:  I don’t know, he’s been unemployed for so long now, I just felt a bit sorry for him.
Jerry:  Would you say you did it out of pity?
Elaine:  Yeah, I guess you could say that.
Jerry: Interesting…
George enters
George:  Hey, so it’s all still on for this afternoon yeah?
Elaine:  Yeah, yeah.  They’re really looking forward to meeting you.
George:  They said that?  They said they’re ‘really looking forward’ to meeting me?
Elaine:  Ya..
George:  Wow.  I don’t think anyone’s ever said that about me before.  Not even my parents.
Elaine: Well there’s a first time for everything.  Look I’ve really got to get back to the office and see if I can make the end of this thing, I’ll see you this afternoon.
George:  (fake sincerity) You know, I just wanted to say thank you, Elaine, for setting this whole thing up. (shakes her hand)  I really owe you one.
Elaine: Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you later.
Jerry: Bye (closes door).
George: Did I overdo it there, with the thankyou?
Jerry: Yeah, that was a bit of an over-thankyou.
George:  I told you!  This whole thing isn’t going to work out!
Jerry:  Just relax, you know, she probably doesn’t even care if you get the job or not!
George:  What?  She doesn’t care!?  What kind of a friend wouldn’t care if their friend didn’t get the job?
Jerry: Huh…
George:  Did she say something?  She doesn’t want to work with me, does she?  Hell, I wouldn’t want to work with me!  Did she say something?  Did she Jerry?
Jerry: Alright! She told me she doesn’t really want you to get the job!  It’s no big deal. 
George: I knew it!
Jerry: At least now you’re on the same page!  Neither of you really want to work with each other, so now you can throw the interview and be done with it!
George:  Oohoh no!  She thinks she can do me a favour and not really mean it!  I’ll show her!  I’m gonna get that job!
Jerry: Out of spite?
George:  Damn straight out of spite!  (clicks his fingers) Did she say anything about the company that’ll help me in my interview?
Jerry: Well she said they’re pretty big on the whole LGBTI diversity thing, but I don’t really see how that’s going to help you.
George:  Yeah…
Knock on the door
Jerry walks over to door
Jerry: Who is it?
Newman: (through door) Hello Jerry.
Jerry: (through door) Hello Newman (opens door, Newman is there smiling).  What do you want?
Newman:  I happened to pass your friend Elaine in the hall before, and couldn’t help but notice that she had in her possession a certain item which piqued my interest.
Jerry: So what?
Newman:  (crumbling) The belt!  I want the belt!
Jerry:  Why?
Newman:  I’m a man with needs Jerry!  Pant-related needs!  You’ve got no idea how hard it is for a man of my stature to find a belt of the right proportions!  To spend your days with a permanent vice around your waist, squeezing the veritable life out of you one breath at a time!  Squeezing, and squeezing! Until one day, it all becomes too much!
Jerry:  Alright, alright!  Take the belt! (Newman greedily grabs the belt).  But let’s get this straight, you take that belt and you owe me a favour.
Newman:  (considering) To be in debt to a Seinfeld for a lifetime of comfort…  I don’t like it, but I’ll take it.
Jerry: Actually, come to think of it I don’t like the idea of being owed something by a Newman.  Tell you what, I’ll pass my favour on to Kramer.
Kramer barges through door
Kramer:  Favour?  Dig-i-dig! (Newman looks scared)
Change scene to Elaine’s work.  Everyone except her is wearing a purple ribbon or item of clothing.  She opens the door to Peterman’s office.
Elaine: You wanted to see me?
Peterman: Yes Elaine, please take a seat.
Elaine:  You know, I just wanted to say how sorry I am about missing the LGBTI event today.
Peterman:  I’m glad to hear it.  You’re absence was very noticeable.  What was it that you said you had to do again that was so important?
Elaine:  I had to... ah… return a belt… to a friend.
Peterman:  Return a belt… ah I see.  You know, Elaine, we take diversity very seriously in this workplace.
Elaine:  I know!
Peterman:  And to have you absent from this event which is so important to so many of your colleagues -  well - it just doesn’t send a good message, now does it?
Elaine:  I guess not…
Peterman: And I see you’re not wearing purple either.
Elaine:  I didn’t know!
Peterman:  Been too busy returning belts have we?  Oh no, this is a situation which must be rectified Elaine, and rectify it we shall (he gets up and starts heading for the door).
Elaine:  How?  Where are we going?
Peterman:  To a gay bar! (He drags her out of the office)
Change scene to Kramer and Newman in Kramer’s car with a contraption in the back seat
Newman: I really shouldn’t be letting you do this.  If anybody from the post office sees us I could lose my job!
Kramer: Now a favour’s a favour, Newman.
Newman:  Yeah, well I never would have taken the belt if I knew that’d it come with a Kramer favour!
Kramer:  What are you worried about?  I just want to take it out for a little spin, they’ll never notice it’s gone.  You said yourself they weren’t even using them yet!
Newman:  Yeah and for good reason.  These postal delivery drones are still in the development phase.  This is just a prototype!
Kramer:  But it can fly?
Newman:  Sure it can fly – like a hummingbird.
Kramer:  Now do hummingbirds hum, or is that just a bees?
Newman:  Bees don’t hum - they buzz.
Kramer:  Buzz?  I always thought that was mosquitoes…
Change scene to George at Elaine’s office being interviewed by Peggy and another manager
Peggy:  So George, looking at your CV here, it says you used to work for the Yankees?
George:  Yes, huhuh, I certainly did.
Manager:  What happened there?
George:  ….A competing franchise made an offer to my boss in return for my dismissal that he simply found too good to refuse.
Peggy:  Wow, you must really be quite the catch.
George:  Yeah. Something like that….
Peggy:  And the job at Play Now?
George:  There were some issues there regarding my physical disposition, that didn’t quite meet their expectations.
Manager:  You know to be honest George, your work experience isn’t ideal for the position, but I think I know what you’re hinting at here, and I just want you to know that this workplace, unlike some others, is very tolerant of all types (taps purple ribbon). 
Peggy:  Is there anything we should know about you that you’d like to share George?
George:  (pauses for a few moments, deadpan) I was born a woman.
Change scene to Jerry’s apartment
(Phone rings, Jerry answers)
Jerry: Hello.
George: (at the coffee shop payphone) I got the job!  They think I’m a woman!
Jerry:  Wait.  What!?
George:  They think I’m a woman who lives as a man!  I don’t know why I never thought of it before!
Jerry:  Why do they think you’re a woman?
George: I was talking about Play Now, and one thing led to another, and it just sort of happened.
Jerry:  So you use your experience pretending to be handicapped to help get you a job where you pretend to be transsexual?
George:  Well why should they get all the jobs?  They’ve already got all the sexes, now they want all the jobs too?
Jerry:  What are you going to tell Elaine?
George:  Hey!  You keep this in the vault, you hear me!  Elaine doesn’t need to know anything about this!
Jerry:  Oh sure (sarcastically).
George:  Oh hoh!  I’d like to see her try to claim the high-ground now!
Jerry:  Oh I don’t think that will be a problem.
George:  Look, I’ve got to go and meet the rest of the team for some welcome drinks after work.  I’ll see you later.
Change scene to Elaine and Peterman standing in line outside of a bar/club
Elaine:  Mr Peterman, this really isn’t necessary!  This was all just a big misunderstanding.  I’m a huge LGBTI fan.  I loooove all of the rainbow people.
Peterman:  I’m glad to hear it Elaine.  But as much as one may love the rainforests of the Congo, one will never truly understand them until they have plunged into that heart of darkness and stared directly into the eyes of its very soul.
Elaine:  What?
Peterman:  Time to get your boogie on Elaine.
Change scene to Kramer and Newman in the park, Kramer is holding a remote control
Newman:  Now take it easy, I want this thing back in one piece.
Kramer:  Relax – I used to fly model planes all the time as a kid.
Newman:  Really?
Kramer:  Well, they didn’t have any motors in them, but it’s essentially the same thing.
Kramer starts to operate the drone
Newman: Easy… Easy…
A look of wonder comes over their faces as the drone becomes airborne.
Kramer:  Like a hummingbird!
Montage of Kramer flying the drone around central park with happy music
Shots of the drone being used in comical ways, such as being used to buy food from a street vendor, knocking a ball out from a tree, carrying a small dog away from his owner, etc.
Eventually the drone starts sounding and moving weirdly.
Newman:  What’s wrong?  What did you do to it?
Kramer:  I don’t know, perhaps it was that pigeon we hit (starts hitting the remote with his hand).
Newman:  Bring her down!
Kramer: I can’t!  She’s outta control!  (drone swoops them and they make a run for it)
Change scene to Elaine and Peterman in a club, loud music, various drag-queen types dancing around Elaine, a butch woman grabs her and starts dancing vigorously with her, Elaine tries to be polite.

Change scene to George back at Elaine’s office with colleagues in the lobby

Peggy:  I’m so glad you could make it back here to come out with the rest of the team tonight George.

George:  (takes her hands in his) I’m just so happy to finally find a group of people who are willing to accept me for who I am.

Manager:  (shaking hand) Welcome aboard George.  Now let’s go get a couple of drinks.

They walk towards the door but a man bursts in.

Man:  Everybody stay inside!  There’s an out-of-control drone out there wreaking havoc.  Somebody call 911!

George:  (Breathing heavily, looking very serious) No, you know what, I’ve got this, I’ve got this (he calmly walks outside while all of his colleagues look on).

A few moments pass and everybody gasps.

Change scene to the coffee shop the next morning, Jerry and George.

Jerry:  So what happened?

George:  So I remembered what Kramer told us yesterday, about being real men and taking control of the situation, so I decided to take care of the drone myself.

Jerry:  And!?

George:  So I walk outside, and there are people running left and right, away from this out of control drone!  And the thing is, I can see it’s only a few feet out of reach.  So I think to myself, how I can I get this thing down?  And I don’t know if it was from Newman in your apartment yesterday, but all I can think of is, to use my belt, to hit its propellers.

Jerry:  Just like MacGyver!

George:  Yeah… So I take my belt off, get in close under it and take a mighty swing.  Unfortunately, as I do so, my pants proceed to fall down.  My feet get tripped up and I fall over.

Jerry:  Oh.

George:  And I was wearing boxersLoose ones.

Jerry:  Ohhh.  So did everyone see your –

George: Yeah.

Jerry:  So now they know you’re not a –

George: Yeah.

Jerry:  And the job’s now -

George: Nope.

Jerry:  Oh…  Well at least now you’ve progressed to getting fired before you’ve even officially started.

George:  I guess that’s something.

Elaine enters looking haggard and wearing a pink feather boa around her neck

Jerry: Where have you been?

Elaine:  Out all night at every gay bar in New York City.

Jerry:  Why?

Elaine:  ...Peterman… So did you get the job?

George: No.

Elaine:  What happened?

Jerry:  It turned out he wasn’t quite the woman they thought he was.

Elaine: What?

George:  (face in hands, broken) Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Outro Music

Jerry Performing In the Comedy Club

The only thing worse than a belt that doesn’t fit, are those days when you forget to put your belt on in the morning.
You’re walking around, all insecure, afraid nobody’s going to take you seriously, or perhaps they’ll mistake you for a homeless person.  You almost feel naked when you forget your belt, which is weird, considering that the only thing it covers is that little button at the top of your pants.
I think what this sensation comes down to, is the realisation that, without a belt, we’re essentially just wearing fancy pyjamas.  With belt - suit.  Without belt – pyjamas.  Suit – pyjamas – suit – pyjamas.  I guess that’s why dressing gowns have those sashes: they’re kind of like a compromise-belt, for when you’re in the general area of the bedroom, but you still need to get things done.