MARK & DEBBIE

Flowers. Candlelight. A lack of sovereign debt. What could go wrong? Everything, it turns out, resulting in three successive weeks of market losses for Mark and Debbie, along with at least one glass of wine thrown violently into Mark’s face. The excitement of last quarter’s major acquisition (a puppy) has given way to squabbling over who walks Fluffy—leading to sluggish market performance for investors.
Recommendation: SELL

JIM & SALLY

Another solid, if uninspiring quarter for Jim and Sally. No major blowups, but no big successes, leading to wild speculation among investors—in particular, Sally’s mother—as to whether the couple would soon take the “next step” in order to shake things up. Of note: analysts say Sally remains dissatisfied with Jim’s earnings.
Recommendation: HOLD

GEORGE & MARCUS

Sentimental favorite George and Marcus rode a wave of technical innovation and high earnings to a third straight record-breaking quarter. Still, their performance continues to have a finite peak, at least without new regulations from government authorities.
Recommendation: STRONG BUY

The full version of this piece appears in issue #4.5 of Whim. Pre-order your copy here.

Additionally, our dance historians managed to unearth this newsreel featuring never-before-seen footage of one of the dances…

Appears in issue #2 of Whim. Photographs by Ashley Macknica and Joel Barhamand. Dances performed by Jocelyn Hansmann and Paul Fears.

SMITH’S GOOF
The folly: In 1862, Secretary of the Interior Caleb Smith traded San Francisco’s Chinatown to the Chinese in exchange for a plate of delicious “dump-lings.”

The fallout: To this day, visitors are required to carry a passport, and the Chinese have continually used the locale as a springboard to attack Northern California, including as recently as 1993. (Gov. Schwarzenegger was elected in part due to his strong stance on the border issue; the state has not been attacked during his tenure.)

BLAIR’S BONER
The folly: In the fall of 1864, Postmaster General Montgomery Blair shot a mail thief to death. That wasn’t the mistake—in fact, to this day, stealing mail remains a federal offense punishable by firing squad—but after firing, he handed the still-loaded pistol to Charles J. Guiteau.

The fallout: Guiteau shot President James Garfield to death in 1881. Though in fairness, Garfield had it coming.

CAMERON’S MISTAKE
The folly: Because of Civil War-era regulations, Secretary of War Simon Cameron was put under 24-hour surveillance. Which became a problem when, in the midst of making love to his wife, he accidentally called her by his mistress’ name: Marvin.

The fallout: Cameron tearfully addressed reporters, confessing “I am a gay American.” But he blazed the trail for later openly gay leaders, such as President Ulysses S. Grant.

BATES’S BLUNDER
The folly: Photographed at a meeting to address disputed tribal lands, Attorney General Edward Pates appeared to be bowing to an Indian chef.

The fallout: Critics on the right declared that Pates was diminishing America’s standing in the world. He was partially vindicated, however, when he pointed out that the photographs required a ten-minute exposure, and he was merely exhausted from defeating the chief in ceremonial wind sprints.

WELLES’S ERROR
The folly: At Lincoln’s second inaugural, Secretary of the Navy Gideon Welles’ dowdy ball-buster of a wife wore a dress declared “so spring 1864″ by Beltway fashion critics.

The fallout: Mrs. Welles was summarily dumped in the Potomac to hearty applause.

JOHNSON’S GAFFE
The folly: Immediately after Lincoln gave the Emancipation Proclamation, he leaned over and told Lincoln this was quote-unquote “a big fucking deal.” Unfortunately, the phrase was caught by a live mic.

The fallout: All was redeemed when it was revealed Johnson had invented the microphone.

I’m 50, and I’ve been a smoker all my life. I’ve been thinking of quitting, but at this point, will it really do any good?
–Laura Davis, Seattle, Wash.

You’ve been a smoker all your life—like, from the cradle? You were a baby smoker? I’m not going to answer your question if you’re going to predicate it on lies. Okay, I will, and: no, not really. Puff away, my good man.

Anyway, I actually have a question for you: do you know anything about administering dialysis in a cave? No reason, just curious.

Can you hook me up with that medicinal marijuana? I have really bad … glaucoma. That’s it: glaucoma…
–Robbie H., New York, NY

Dad, is that you? I’m Dr. Health, not Dr. Feelgood! But for you … maybe.

I work as a salesperson and spend a lot of time on my feet. Over the years, I’ve developed some severe pains, and the special insoles my doctor has given me don’t seem to help. Should I do something more drastic like surgery? Could I change the way that I walk?
–Karen Huerta, Memphis, Tenn.

Is this a serious question? Change the way you walk? Why are you a salesperson? Because you’re in thrall to your infidel society’s idea of what makes you a productive member of society, that’s why. Break free of those bonds, and recognize your true master, and then your feet shall ache no more.

Also, if you could, send me some basic info on administering dialysis. I should have a PDF on my laptop. If you could write my husband, or my sister, they should be able to help. I haven’t heard from them in weeks, and I just forgot to ask my dad.

Recently, we have become aware of certain activities and clients of yours that might be of interest to us. Now, you can play this one of two ways. You can do right, and join us, or you can continue your dance with treason, and pay the consequences. We’ll contact you.
–[redacted], Central Intelligence Agency, Langley, Va.

…

Yes, this is about your friend. In the cave. With the long beard …
–[redacted], Central Intelligence Agency, Langley, Va.

Oh, right. Um … Santa?

Nice try. We have your cave surrounded by Predator drones. Surrender.
–[redacted], Central Intelligence Agency, Langley, Va.

Never!!! (Okay.)

Hi, I’m Dr. Health. I’m also a woman. Proof of both provided upon request.

To the questions!

I’ve read reports saying red meat is bad for you. Still others say it’s good for you. What’s the truth?
-Nigel Y., Trenton, NJ

Hey, this isn’t Ask Ms. What-to-Eat! I’m a doctor, not a nutritionist.

We have it on strong authority that you are not, in fact, a doctor, and have taken to practicing unlicensed medicine overseas. Please return to America at once, or we will be forced to work with foreign authorities to bring you back home.
-Robert S. Mueller, Director, Federal Bureau of Investigation (dictated but not read)

I have it on strong authority that you, Mueller, in fact, smell. Maybe it’s the scent of a man scared of women in the workplace!

I am too poor to seek doctor. I seem to have some combination of blotchy eyes, red skin, and a loud, sustained cough that keeps me up all night. Tell me, please, what do I have?
-Girma R., Addis Ababa

You want to know what you have? You have a reason to move out of my building, Girma. I can’t get a decent night’s sleep with you coughing down there!

Doctor, doctor, give me the news: I’ve got a bad case of lovin’ you …
-Robert P., Yorkshire, Eng.

Ack, I opened iTunes by mistake. Sorry, everyone!

…

Hey, what’s that buzzing?

That buzzing you hear is our chopper, flying over your hideout, Dr. Health. We have you surrounded, so come out now, or we’ll be forced to take action.
-[Redacted], U.S. Marine Corps

Never!

To the questions!

Whenever I play tennis, I begin to feel a crushing pain in my elbow. Is there any treatment you recommend? Or, better yet, something preventative I can do?
-Riley Cavanaugh, Cheyenne, Wyo.

You say your arm hurts when you play tennis? Well, how’s this for a solution: Stop playing tennis! Duh!

Real talk: How many alcoholic drinks can I have in a week? I’m a 43-year-old man with a clean bill of health, but lately I’ve started to wonder if I’m overdoing it.
-Jim Niles, Florence, Ala.

Frankly, I don’t know. But can you tell me what kind of batteries should go in this flashlight-radio thingamabob? It’s kind of urgent.

Dr. “Health”: It has come to our attention that you are representing yourself as a doctor of medicine, despite earning a doctorate in philosophy from our school. We’d like you to stop misrepresenting us in this fashion, as it has been very hard for us to establish our reputation.
-Big Bill, Big Bill’s Hegelian Correspondence School of Philosophy

Big Bill! How’s it hangin’?! Remember that time when I seduced your wife at that correspondence toga party?

Anyway, can you send 9V batteries? Again, it’s urgent.

My husband and I really want to have kids. But I’m 35, and at a delicate place in my career. How much longer can I wait? And are fertility drugs safe?
-Rachel Thomsen, Beacon, NY

Rachel? It’s been years, dude! How the heck are ya? Anyway! So your husband’s having trouble knocking you up? Simple: I say step out with a real man, and just don’t say anything when you’re preggers. (Just make sure the dudes are matched, racially speaking, obvs.)

Anyway: Can you call my sister and ask her to bring me some 9V batteries? It’s VERY URGENT.

Dr. Health: We have surrounded your sister’s house, cut off the telephone lines, and turned off the electricity. You need to come out from the basement, with your hands up, now.
-Albany, NY Police Dept.

Never!!!

To the questions!

Every night, I plan on going for a run the next day. Every morning, I hit the snooze alarm and sleep in instead. How can I get motivated?
-Edward P., Olathe, Kan.

Step one: Move the hell out of Kansas! Second, here’s what I do:

4 a.m.
Listen to some music to pump me up. I prefer Obama speeches. “Race,” of course, is vintage ‘Bam. But I also like the Iowa Acceptance speech. Say it with me: Yes … we … can.

4:20 a.m.
Time to get high! Not on the green, though—on greenies, an upper that can really keep you going. (Ask your cool cousin, or the nearest ’70s-era Major Leaguer, where to find it. He’ll know.)

4:30 a.m.
Run!

If I don’t have coffee in the morning, I get sometimes crippling headaches. Is this just a sign of caffeine dependence (a problem in and of itself), or could it be something more troubling?
-Charles S., Boulder, Colo.

Hey, is this by any chance Charles S. Dutton? Big fan! Loved you in The Matrix (that was you, right?)

Anyway, I think you need to look at the root problem: Why in hell are you not having coffee in the morning?!

Last month, you advised stressed-out readers to “take it out on your family.” How are you still employed?
-Anonymous

Mom, is that you?

My precious daughter: Please write. We never hear from you anymore.
-Marjorie Money, Pleasantville, NY

Oh, there you are, Mom. I wonder who Anonymous is. Maybe it’s Dad—but he’s still dead, right?

We have recently been made aware of a troubling situation. Evidently you are writing a health column as “Dr. Health,” despite a lack of accreditation (and the fact that your real last name is Nausea). Please refrain from doing so. Failure to comply with this request will result in your immediate arrest.
-The Department of Health and Human Services, Washington, D.C.

Ooh, scary! Guess someone can’t deal with the new reality: Women can be doctors, too!

Some of the world’s most glamorous stars seem to stay remarkably skinny with little to no effort at all. What’s their secret?
-Glenn L., Malibu, Calif.

I think we both know who you’re talking about: Bob Dylan, circa Blonde on Blonde. Let’s consult I Want You (to Lose Weight), Dylan’s mid-’60s diet book. Looks like the formula’s simple: a non-stop diet of weed, amphetamines, and strung-out Factory starlets. Let me know if you need help finding any of those.

Honey, come home. I’m starting to worry about you.
-Robert H., New York, NY

NEVER!!!

Using these historical records, our team of dance historians have recreated these legendary (if elusive) moves for the very first time.

Additionally, our dance historians managed to unearth this newsreel featuring never-before-seen footage of one of the dances…

Appears in Whim Quarterly Issue #2. Written by Paul Underwood. Photographs by Ashley Macknica and Joel Barhamand. Dancers: Jocelyn Hansmann and Paul Fears. Video produced by Brock Mahan.

THE JACK NICKLAUS – $13
An Arnold Palmer, but 11 years younger.

THE ANGRY HUNGARIAN – $13
Hungarian vodka, blended goulash, bottled sweat of Bela Lugosi. If you dare go messing with this guy, be warned: he bites. Also known as the Budapest Bomber.

THE ANGRIER HUNGARIAN – $15
Same as The Angry Hungarian, but with Tabasco sauce and the perpetual scowl that comes with being undead.

BLOODY MARY – $12
Vodka, tomato juice, Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco sauce, horseradish, celery, olive, salt, black pepper, cayenne pepper, lemon juice, celery salt, cigarette ashes, irregular golf tees, DVD copies of Broken Arrow.

THE CHRIST ON THE CROSS – $14
Same as a Bloody Mary, but with Savior’s blood

THE OLD FASHIONED PIG – $15
Bacon-infused whisky, maple syrup, Angostura bitters. The drink that I was having when Lucy announced to this very bar that she didn’t love me anymore. Named for what she called me on her way out. Ironic that I was drinking bacon, isn’t it?

THE SILVER SOMBRERO – $13
Black bean-infused anejo tequila. And yet it was Lucy, really, who was old-fashioned, saying there were “certain things” we couldn’t do until we were married. Christ. What century is it, Lucy?

THE SOMBER VEIL MARTINI – $14
Gin, olives, virgin’s tears. Not that we didn’t do them anyway. (There, Lucy—I said it.) It’s just that she wouldn’t talk to me afterward. But from what I’ve heard, I wasn’t the first. Far from it. Thinking about her in the throes of passion with someone else still drives me to drink. This one’s pretty good for those nights—though it turns out they’re not really virgin’s tears.

CHILDREN OF THE CORN SANGRIA $12
Sangria, vodka, canned corn, bitters. And another thing—sure, Lucy, I am old-fashioned. I wear a suit every day, enjoy a cigarette and a stiff drink (like this one, incidentally). But you were the one fooling around on me—you should know better to piss off an angry Hungarian.

RUM AND COKE – $13
Rum, coke. But did you have to do it with Arnold Palmer?

LE FROMAGE DU JOUR – $11
Vodka, absinthe, a dab of farm-raised brie. Cheese. Booze. Bam.

Appears in Whim Quarterly Issue #1. Written by Paul Underwood.