How I Envision A Think Tank To Be
For a good number of years I have wanted to work in a think tank. Have you ever heard that term before? They seem to have a lot of think tanks in Washington D.C. As far as I can tell a think tank refers to a group of people who work together to develop various policies, strategies, and solutions. But how does one join this exclusive group? And what exactly goes on inside one of them? The following is my vision of what really happens inside one of these think tanks.
There are between five and thirty people. Some of them wear expensive suits and others wear stained t-shirts. The reasons for such a range in attire are two. First, the members must wear an outfit that provides them with the confidence to work at their mental maximum. Second, the discrepancy in clothing produces a deep sense of competition. The bums have to prove their worthiness, while the well-to-do battle their own feelings of inadequacy as a result of the threat posed by classless slobs challenging their mental prowess. Competition is at the heart of any high-powered professional endeavor.
There is a room filled with every type of candy. Twix, Snickers, lollipops, licorice, jelly beans, cadbury eggs, Hershey bars etc etc etc… This room is locked and guarded by a middle-aged man suffering from delusions of conspiracy theories and major paranoia. The crazy man is the only one who knows the combination to the lock. He is under strict orders to only open the room once he feels at ease. This means that the members of the think tank must first accomplish their lofty objective before they can have any chance of getting the candy. The rationale behind this is, if a crazy paranoid person finds their solution to be satisfactory it must be so. It’s air-tight logic.
There are twenty-seven televisions lining the walls of the main room. Showing on each is the film, Bill Cosby: Himself. The film is playing exactly one second off from the one next to it. This creates a hypnotic echoing effect, which is magnified by Bill Cosby’s ridiculous voice. Indeed.
The room is constantly being pumped with pure oxygen. Well, oxygen laced with a rare gaseous form of the drug, speed.
Every two hours a cake is delivered to one of the members. The cake says, Happy Birthday Tim. It says that on every cake. The name, Tim, causes people to think harder. Also, the cake is made out of speed.
A crack team of helper monkeys run around the main room wearing butler outfits. One of the monkeys is dressed as a doctor, but he has no formal training.
At random intervals the power is shut off to the main room. This sends everyone into a frenzy until the power is restored. Once the power is restored, members are required to flip a coin until it lands on heads three times in a row.
There is one room that serves as a ball pit.
Chinese food is constantly being delivered. But there are no utensils.
At the end of every day the members of the think tank are tranquilized and flown to a secret military base. When they wake up they are told that the world is spinning in the wrong direction, and Tuesday no longer exists.
That’s probably something like what really goes on in one of those think tanks.
I want in.