Stickman Readers' Submissions September 23rd, 2006

Thai Thoughts And Anecdotes Part 149


Ok Sticksters and Dana fans–only one week to go 'till party time (see Thai Thoughts and Anecdotes Part 148–INTRODUCTION–for details). Start shaving and get some talcum powder and start the build up program of saturating your tissues with Viagra and Cialis. The well known pharmacy on 2nd road in South Pattaya that has developed a reputation for serving farangs honestly has agreed to supply all sex performance drugs for free. To make this decidedly non-Thai concept a reality I had to shovel some heavy baht and I had to spend some personal time with the woman who works there that has teeth like the grill work on a '56 Buick. But that's my problem not yours. Your job is . . . well, you know what to do. I'm paying all the bills but try and show some respect. Just drinking ain't enough. You better be butt slamming or belly whomping something. The whole world thinks we are nothing but sex mongers. As if that is a bad thing. Ok, I'm in. How about you?

He Clinic Bangkok

Oh, and I had a little talk with the skinny dark doorboyz in Boyztown and they aren't going to turn anyone away from the clubs and cabarets and bars. Because I am the living embodiment of heterosexual Darwinian evolution I have been refused entrance to these bars in the past. Let's face it; I look about as gay as a silverback gorilla on steroids wearing a shoulder harness Browning automatic rifle and a hardhat. So if you are like me (what are the odds?) you will be pleased to hear that you are not going to be barred from any fun of any kind. And believe me when I tell you that you have not had a good time until you have been in a gay bar in South Pattaya with everyone drunk and on drugs and yelling and laughing and groping and showing their wing wangs. You think you know how to party? Well then how come your wing wang is still in your pants? Anyway, all of the door men at these fag venues are going to let you in (no pun intended). And if there is any trouble report them to the nearest DDT (Dana Deputized Tranny) and I will force them to date western women for a month.

And now for Thai Thoughts and Anecdotes Part 149 entitled: FIFTY BULLETS. This is a literary song of praise from a loving son about his dearly missed and departed father. I hope my father in heaven can hear this anthem. A man of wisdom and intelligence and hope for the future I can never equal. A great man who had a great idea. Enjoy.


CBD bangkok

If you've spent your life

Making a list

And checking it twice:

You're going to love this plan–

It's really nice.

Time to start dancing

And laughing with glee.

Time to start checking names–

Him and him and her and her and ME.

It's fifty bullet time–

The future is nigh.

The governments involved–

And that's no lie.

The sun is coming up

On the right kind of fun.

A government plan–

Government bullets–

Government gun.

wonderland clinic

Have your docs ready

In all the right ways.

Be at the government office

On your fortieth birthday.

Read the essay below–

And don't forget:

You reap what you sow–

Your life you beget.


My dad had an idea for social leavening and justice gerrymandering that he unsuccessfully espoused for years. Impassioned letters were sent to the local papers and to the United Nations and to Washington D.C. and other capitals of other nations and of course he was always on the phone with municipal and state and federal people of influence over the years but the response was poor. Various police and law enforcement officials showed up at our door one cold winter day in 1959 to talk to him. He wasn't hauled off in handcuffs or anything but there was a long conversation on the crunchy white front lawn and nobody was smiling. Neighbors looked through windows and traffic slowed. I looked through the curtains of the big house on the hill. My ice maiden Quaker mom . . . my mom . . . my mom cried.

It's hard to be a visionary. I don't want to say my dad was a crank or an eccentric but this social-government plan was pretty much all I heard about for the first eighteen years of my life. Come to think of it I do not remember one phone call coming into the house or one neighbor visiting the house in the first eighteen years of my life. Hey, where's the love people? Muhammad and Buddha and Jesus were one note singers always going on and on and on about some crazy idea but you didn't see people being rude to them (ok, there was the whole cross thing but you get my point).

Anyway Dad's idea was based on the politically incorrect notion that there was not enough violence in the world. The politically correct notion is that there is too much violence in the world. An idea of such bone weary repetitude that no one questions or examines it. Dad had done some deep thinking and reached a different conclusion. His idea was that there was not enough violence of the right kind in the world and based on this he had come up with an idea that he thought all nations should adopt: To wit–

At the age of forty all citizens are issued a high powered pistol and fifty bullets by the government. You could do anything you wanted with the first forty-nine bullets; but you had to use the last bullet on yourself.

I repeat: You Can Do Anything You Want With The First Forty-nine Bullets But You Have To Use The Last Bullet On Yourself.

Kind of a conversation stopper isn't it. Great ideas are like that. You might have been sitting on your View Talay Jomtien balcony thinking about dipping your wick in an Essan wonder, or you might have been contemplating walking around the condo pool with a gerbil in your pants, or you might have been pondering laying a mirror on the floor and squatting over it so that you can shave your ass for ladyboy games; but when you hear an idea like this your mind clears and focuses.

You don't have to be Einstein's butler to see some obvious ramifications of this simple set-up. The faster you trigger squeeze through the first forty-nine bullets settling old and new scores the faster you get to yourself. On the other hand it would be a crying shame to be lying on the death bed at the Mothership (aka Nana Hotel) and realize you still had some bullets left. One of the great behind the social curtain facts that no one wants to talk about is that few things give more pleasure than killing members of your own species. Six bullets left and you can't do anything about it? Poor planning. So obviously this forty-nine bullets of fun followed by paying the final bill is a game of strategy for the thinking man and impulse for the fool.

Dad meant well. His dream was for a civil society of law abiding people dedicated to reciprocal kindnesses, respect for every beating heart, and freedom from fear. He was of the saintly variety and he assumed most people were like him. So empowering citizens like him with the task of eliminating social aberrations made perfect sense. It added little to the tax base to run the program, used the talents and maturity and wisdom of the village elders, benefited everyone, took a lot of the pressure for cleaning the drain of society off the back of the government, and was fiscally progressive because social scum cost everyone money. Self-absorbed willful moral malingerers would be dispatched with extreme prejudice. No witch burning or afternoon Christians vs. Lions coliseum drama would bring forth more spontaneous community happiness then the offing of scum.

But dad was no fool and he recognized that sometimes people can make poor decisions. Hence the fifty bullet rule. At least the wrong sort of behavior would not go on for too long. He also recognized that killing other people always has a negative taint attached to it even when they clearly deserve it and this kind of thing, like a cancer or a virus, can not be allowed to gain too much steam. Again, the fifty bullet rule.

Of course the ideal would be to go to your place in heaven having never used a single bullet because your life had no social stresses. We can all dream. Anyway, dad was a deep thinker. For example: the fifty bullet rule was run on kind of the honor system. So what do you do when program participants are reticent about offing themselves when they get to bullet number fifty?

Believe me Dad had a plan for that. His letter to the United Nations regarding the social permutations and combinations and nuances and complexities and features and benefits of this plan went on for some forty pages. Single spaced. I know because I had to pound the letter out key by key on an old manual typewriter. Good old dad, involving me in his life's work and also guaranteeing that no one at school or in the neighborhood would ever talk to me. Thanks Dad for willing me the first eighteen years of my life in isolation and rejection: it made me tough.

Anyway, dad's plan was really simple and kind. He was not looking to eliminate all of the great three categories; the Stupid, and the Unlucky, and the Criminal that hold back the herd of human wildebeest so that the social predators can feed–just the Criminal. The bad people doing bad things–such as the 10 year old bully in school who is electrically sparked with each act of bullyism and predation, delighting in terrorizing your young son or daughter. The snot nosed youthful human fecal matter that grows into a carelessly breeding adult who mistakes self-interest for philosophy and clothes his actions borne of sloth and species indifference in influence peddling and sales and baroquely presented big ideas and unreachable dreams for the masses.

Find me someone with a successful career in sales and politics and big ideas and I am looking for blood on their hands. Dad simply wanted a government administered and government endorsed program where the village elders who knew right from wrong would voluntarily participate in skimming the scum from the top of the social water. The ten year old bullies would not become careless breeders. Way way before that they would hear the crashing sound of a high powered 45 caliber pistol shot at close range.

Now–applying this social plan of my fathers to the Thai scene begs a number of interesting questions. Since the Thai Constitution declares men and women equal (Chapter III, section 24); both men and women at age forty in Thailand would be issued high powered pistols and fifty bullets. Holy crapola Batman–ain't we going to have fun in the nightlife venues catering to farangs now. You thought a combination of innocence, and ignorance, and rock music, and ladyboys on yaa baa, and sex, and venality, and greed was fun before; now imagine every mamasan and bar owner and bargirl and bargirl boyfriend over forty is pistol packing. In my case I pick up a lot of sidewalk, parking lot, and beachfront cruisers and over forty is not uncommon. What's age got to do with it? That's what the light switch is for. I still ain't going to wear a condom but the gun in the purse is an attention getter. Might have to start paying more than 500 baht. Jesus, there's a knee trembler of an idea. Hell, might have to move to Sihanoukville.

Hey, I can hear you saying–

"No way Dana–no way would I go near those bars and pickup joints if the Thai government got involved in this crazy plan. Giving a gun and fifty bullets to some of these monkey faced misanthropes would be like lighting a match in a fireworks factory. Just too dangerous."

Really? Remember, if you are over forty you are packing too. Hey, and when you are down to your last bullet what have you got to lose? Suppose you do accidentally stop a flying bullet. No matter. You had to use your last bullet on yourself anyway. Might as well have some fun and see a show before the final curtain. Wake up and live like a man–dodging some bullets will put some pep in your step. Personally, too much alcohol and too many whores and too many bullets is my idea of just enough fun. And if you see the Devil in one of these gin joints don't run away from him; run towards him–he knows pussy you'd love to meet. So be glad for my Dad's Fifty Bullet Plan and be grateful to the Thai government for adopting it.

Ah Thailand, it just has the capacity to get better and better and better. Thailand is what is called a developing country. It has not run it's race yet. Social changes are built into the concept of a developing country as it struggles with interior and exterior pressures to conform and succeed and grow. I hope the wise leaders of Thailand's government adopt this idea of my fathers. Look in the mirror and what do you see? You? Naw, look over your shoulder dude. That's the future sneakin' up on you. This All-Nations-Adopting FIFTY BULLET PLAN is coming.

There is too much violence in Thailand? Not of the right kind sport. Every right thinking man like my dad and like you knows that the list you keep in your head is a list of jerks and idiots and cheaters and liars and fools and thieves who have crossed your path and need to be cut out of the herd. Call it grass roots social engineering. Call it righteous retribution. Call it delicious government approved vengeance. Hey, call it whatever you want but the next time I give a bargirl in the G-Spot bar a 1000 baht note and she brings me change for a 500 baht note out comes the gun.

Hey, aren't you sorry you're a young man now? Don't mess with us. We're over forty, jacked on Viagra, packing government heat, and we're working on a list. Shove off Mr. Abdominals from Ko Samui or I'll spend the evening with my teeruks nail polish painting your name on the end of a bullet. Your job is to make it to forty, my job is to make some social decisions.

Anyway, I give this idea to Thailand's leaders as a gift from my Dad. I love the Kingdom more than the smile on my daughter's face and nothing would please me more than to hear the constant sound of high powered pistols twenty-four hours per day. Hey, and I bet this bit of insightful and loving social engineering would also cut down on the number of expats 'falling' from balconies in Pattaya. No need. Just wait till the last bullet and take care of your personal government plan responsibility on the couch while watching reruns of the World Cup.

"Just wait till bullet number fifty and . . . "

The concept of the last bullet is key. Social theory is a numbers game for philosophers and government planners; you can't get too emotionally involved in the eggs you have to break to make an omelet. Still, the notion of every person being an example of species speciality has value; hence the fifty bullet rule. If you decide to participate in righteous thinning of the herd to benefit society you have to accept the fact that after forty-nine subtractions it may be time for you to check out. Logically this makes no sense but sometimes in administering societies it is the results that count. You had your fun and you did a lot of good by eliminating some awful people who should not be breeding; but now it is time to cash in the chips. Thanks for your participation, and your good intentions, and your best efforts; and we will see you in heaven.

The finality of the fifty bullet rule can catch some people unawares. As you are rounding the first turn, or galloping down the backstretch, or even pounding up to the finish line of this great visionary idea of my dad's it is sometimes possible to forget how it is all going to end. And then with crushing and horrifying darkroom development it will suddenly occur to you that you have done some poor planning and that you do not want to die. This can have sometimes comedic/tragic results.

Example: You say your farang neighbor in Sangkhla Buri is married to a Thai woman that is equal parts shrew, screaming banshee, and scissor wielding penis threatener? And you wonder why your balanced intelligent western values farang neighbor does not just do the right social thing and off her? Simple–he has planned very very badly and he is now down to two bullets. If he offs her then he has to kill himself. And he does not want to kill himself. Suddenly, face to face with the maturity load of this social program; he realizes he should not have gotten involved. He does not want to die. So he is now wed to this screaming dangerous shrew for life because he can not kill her. And SHE KNOWS IT. She knows he is down to only two bullets and he does not want to die. The Devil is now a Thai woman wearing a yellow summer dress, pink flip flops, and cricket legs stuck to her lipstick.

Example Number Two: You are smarter than everyone else and not given to impulse or poorly thought out ideas. You are down to three bullets. One night in a Thai Woman Moment Of Insanity (TWMOI) your raven haired wife grabs your pistol and shoots at you. She misses but the bullet counts against the total. You are now down to two bullets and you can not solve this little domestic problem unless you want to go to heaven yourself. Conclusion: you've got to start planning way before bullet number three.

Example Number Three: You have forty-four bullets left. No problem. You are a person of moderate emotions, and careful living, and few social stresses, and a very short list of really irritating people that have crossed your path. The bullets were issued by the government in clips of ten. You lose four of the clips. Suddenly you are down to bullet number four. Welcome to my world. It's Dana Time now Mr. Professor and that new feeling is sweat pouring out of your temples.

Example Number Four: Two spitting cobra bitter angry hateful ex-lovers meet by accident and they are both wearing shirts that say TWO BULLETS. Boy, talk about social tension.

Now I know some whiners and pansies and little girls and lawyer types are going to start bleating about how the wrong people might be the recipients of some of the first forty-nine bullets. Innocent people and stuff like that. Ok, this is where you have to be analytical but I can't do all the heavy lifting here–give it some thought yourself and apply it to Thailand. There is more than meets the eye here. Violence based social gerrymandering nuances of thought and mechanics. So do some heavy thinking and write those thoughts out and send them in to this website. Do it for Thailand. And remember, there is not enough violence in society. We need a lot more violence. Violence of the right kind. Here is an area of intelligent communal social Darwinism where Thailand could show the world a thing or two.

Imagine deplaning at midnight off the Northwest Airlines flight from Narita to Don Muang and you can hear gunfire even before you get through Currency Exchange. It would give you a good feeling wouldn't it? Knowing that the over age 40 elders are cleaning things up and making Thailand safer and more civil for you. Whether waiting upstairs at the Departure curb or waiting on ground level in the taxi line the sound of 45 caliber handgun fire would make you feel good. Hey, was my father a genius or what? Sure my mom cried, and the dogs hid, and the neighbors looked away but it turns out he was right. When you're right your right. Sure everyone thought he was a crank and an idiot and possibly unstable and dangerous and a goof but he was right. I was a lucky son. Hey, I'm just the messenger here. Give the credit to my father. Look up to heaven and sing him a thankful song of praise–then squeeze the trigger on a Sukhumvit tout.

Anyway, kind of gives you the shivers don't it? Paradise with a sharper edge and visiting farangs wearing T-shirts that say: 18 Bullets, or 27 Bullets, or 41 Bullets, or 34 Bullets. Are you going to screw around with a farang that has 27 bullets left? And how about if your teeruk was wearing a T-shirt that said 12 Bullets? When she asks for 'taxi money' in the morning I'll bet you'll give it to her. Fear and sex and violence mixed in with revenge, and settling old scores, and domestic violence of the final kind, and honest mistakes, and wrong-headed impulses, and lover's quarrels, and businessmen's negotiations gone wrong, and angry women, and men full of self-pity and . . . hey, it's the devil's brew and he's getting more pussy than anyone. And it is all run, and approved by, and sanctioned by the government. Kewl huh. Oh, and back to you lawyer types for a second. No–you can not transfer, or will, or sell unused bullets to another party. They're your bullets and it is your life so learn to pull the trigger.

Good old dad–a thinker and a visionary; I'm only sorry that he will not live to see the day when nations all over the earth devote themselves to allowing their wizened mature citizens to make decisions about right and wrong. Eliminating the bad people so that the rest of us can lead lives of dignity and repose. And I'm sorry he will not be able to go into Superbabies in Soi Diamond off Walking Street in South Pattaya around 1:00 a.m. on a weeknight as a bar full of beautiful gorgeous sexy Thai women have not been barfined. That's when the frustrated door men, and owners, and mamasans over forty will pull out the guns and start shooting. Sure it will be impulsive and probably injurious to the wrong parties–but who doesn't want to be there? We all want to be there. Sure there might be some egregious social errors made but there are too many beating hearts anyway. The best writing always benefits from slash and burn editing and maybe it is the same happy social result with the Fifty Bullet Plan. Violence and Thailand and Sex. It's just going to get better and better. Sweet Jesus what a great future and we owe it all to my dad.

So start thinking about the features and benefits, and the ins and outs, and the nuances of this program and send in your ideas and observations to this website. You're never a participant in life until you pull the trigger; so pull the trigger on your pen and start sending in some submissions. Heck, you only have to look to Thailand's neighbor Cambodia to see a slightly less structured example of this kind of society. The exception being in that wonderful Asian paradise everyone is allowed to carry weaponry and make social decisions. And we all know how safe Cambodia is. Anyway, to help prime the pump on your submission ideas regarding the Fifty Bullet Plan I'll offer up some ideas that you can think about:

1. What happens if the guy is down to the last bullet and he does not use it on himself? How does the government handle that?

2. What about guys wearing T-shirts proclaiming the wrong number of bullets left? How is that handled?

3. Would there be any limit on citizens over forty who could participate? To wit: Giving a pistol and fifty bullets to a bad person seems somehow unappealing.

4. How do you prevent double-dippers? People trying to get the handout of gun and bullets more than once.

5. Would there be built in penalties (loss of a certain number of bullets for instance) for egregious shooting of demonstrably innocent people?

6. Could bullet bonuses be earned for offing universally accepted social scum? Nana car park taxi drivers come to mind.

7. What to do with the participant who uses bullet number fifty on someone else instead of himself?

8. What Bang Kwang prison penalties for Thais and farangs caught black market selling their bullets and guns to others?

9. How to curb impulsive acts that can be injurious to the innocent? Should there be counseling and training and role playing in how to commit acts of retribution and vengeance and correctly channeled eyeball busting rage and anger?

10. Should the program be named after my father? I vote YES and suggest the abbreviation moniker: DDFBP (Dana's Dad's Fifty Bullet Plan).

So there you have it Stickmanites: a story from my past, and a look into the mind of a great man, and a different point of view on how much violence in society is a good/bad thing, and a brief overview of how the program works, and some notions of the program at work in the Kingdom, and lastly; ten idea prompters to get you thinking and sending in additional analysis in the form of submissions to this website. And remember–this is not a mandatory government program from the mind of my father but a voluntary government program. You at age forty or above had to have internalized the obligations and responsibilities and mechanics of the social program in advance of showing up at a government office in Hat Yai or Pathiu or Ratchaburi or Ayutthaya or Nakhon or Chiang Mai or Phitsanulok or Udon Thani or Ubon Ratchathani or Khorat or Chonburi or Trat or Bangkok. You had to have reached the conclusion without outside influence that you had the wisdom and the morals and the selfless interest in a stable society of law and order to know which Thai and farang wildebeest were qualified to make it to the other side of the river and which ones should be cut from the herd. So the plan had a kind of happy philosophic gravitational force that would naturally attract those of high morals.

Finitius Bulletium

Addenda note: T-shirts that say 49 Bullets sequentially down to 2 Bullets are available on this website. They are available in all sizes and come in black, gun metal gray, and pink. Send the administrator a request note about details. Don't worry about the cost–Stick is sending them out for free. Place an order for the whole set when you are first issued your government program pistol and bullets. Wear a different shirt with a descending number every day and watch the locals start to treat you with respect.

And which T-shirts will get the most attention? Why the T-shirts that say 49 Bullets and 2 Bullets of course (see, I told this idea had subtleties). The citizen who is just starting out on the program and has 49 bullets left (remember, bullet number 50 is for you nimrod) could snap at any moment and go off like a bottle rocket. And the male or female with the T-shirt that says 2 Bullets is a guy or guyette with a plan. If he or she strolls into a bar or a business or your home and asks for you it is time to start running.


Stickman's thoughts:

Nursing a splitting headache so no comments on submissions today. Sorry.

nana plaza