Reading Suggestions – Articles

The Fleecing of Sam McGee

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold
The tools they use have often abused
The rules of physics we know.
With boxes of black their targets they track
At depths geophysics can’t see
But never so bold as the scam that they sold
To a prospector named Sam McGee.
Now Sam, you see, knew Geology
For Physics he never did care.
So a huckster sold Sam a gold finder scam
He said would find ore anywhere.
He said: “Gold, you know, has a resonant glow
That only my Finder can see.
A mile or more – almost down to the core, 
It will find even one ppb”.
It’s so easy to use, with no costly crews,
I can run it from here in the town.
Geophysical jerks don’t know how it works.
Don’t ask or they’ll say I’m a clown
See, I know the deal, my patents they’ll steal
So I never tell them a thing.
But if you invest, then I’ll do the rest
And soon you’ll be rich like a king.
Well Sam couldn’t wait, he swallowed the bait
He already had claims on the ground.
It didn’t seem rash to pay up-front cash.
A gold mine was sure to be found.
He got the black box, hooked it up to the rocks
And watched as it beeped and it lit.
But work as he might, all day and all night,
No gold did it find: not a bit. 
The huckster was cool, said “It’s a fine tool
That works if you really believe.”
He left in a flash with the last of Sam’s cash
Saying: “Now it is time that I leave.”
Sam finally knew, it’s too good to be true.
He knew that the tool was a crock.
He knew he’d been scammed. Said “I’ll be damned!”
And went back to banging the rock.

By Greg Hodges
With apologies to Robert W. Service