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The Ira Glass Infatuation Post/This American Life Roundup: “Social Contract”

When a suitor asked me what all the hype with this myopic displaced Chicago nerd on the radio was about, I couldn’t say it was the first time I had to explain my taste in men to a man I can’t say I was interested in. That a girl could require anything but a body-hair challenged fast-talking hot mess with a bankroll that could sustain her yens for marijuodka nightcaps was nonsensical to him. It’s no surprise boys like him can’t find a girl’s pleasure center buried deep in her…mind. To be an ubermensch is divine; but taking on the role of sheep momentarily in the grips of an intelligent lover is to pop an opiate and cultivate unwavering faith in the reality you are spiraling into, resulting in psychological ecstasy.

Straying from passionate philosophizing concerning corruption of the mind this week’s Life takes us into the popular Midwestern terrain of economic corruption. Intelligent Jewfox Ira throws a wad of cash at you in two acts this week, and all you can do is submit.

Act 1: On planet Albany, there is no gravity and light bends right around the capitol

"The most dysfunctional state government in the country:" When Ira utters this phrase, I’m sure he’s talking about Illinois-Blago, Daley, and Betty Loren-Maltese riddled wasteland. But really, the chain of events appropriately delineate scandal and  sexy econ superman Richard Ravitch’s creative fixes in my new lusty headquarters, New York.

Get schooled on exactly how deep the unforgiving dildo of the state budget is screwing New York citizens. I can’t listen to this sodomy anymore where taxpayers are sold like a fair-haired devochka on the black market by the Patersons, Spitzers, and Blagojeviches of our fair land. I thought I’d left that dark world behind in Daleyland.

I’d rather be Ravitched.

Act 2: Self sacrifice was contagious

Alex Blumberg reports the finite ways that Barbados got on a path of prosperity after meltdown. Turns out they took a big risk on social contract which in the world of lovage tends to require a Plan B. How to save the sinking ship of an island? Cut the pay of its sailors, naturally. Said a trade union leader, "We had to choose between the less of two evils-either take a pay cut or have many Barbadians on the street without a job." Think: Pulling out and sacrificing immediate orgasm to prolong sexytimes for all. While it may hurt and feel unnatural at the time, maybe it’s worth the ensuing tantric hallelujah.

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