You are the type of person who excels on exams, IQ tests, and mental puzzles. Family and friends generally call the local library when they can't find you, and rightfully so. Today, you are likely to spend a great deal of time at a dollar discount store wanting to buy either a T-shirt commemorating Thor Heyerdahl's Pacific crossing aboard the Kon-Tiki or a wall poster commemorating the 2000 Olympics. Be on the lookout for fairy dust that tastes like salt. You should consider shopping at stores or businesses beginning with the letter Z, but do not buy any products with a serial number or product code containing the number 959097. Your preferred shopping venue is the Internet. Your special symbol is the exclamation point (!).

As a Purple Smarphin, you are the brightest and most intelligent person you know. And that goes for shopping, too. You know exactly what you want. You know exactly what it costs. You know exactly when and where to buy. But, of course, shopping is only one of the many activities that attracts your intellectual attention. You shop when you need to and buy if have to, but shopping is not the end all of your life.

Two notable problems are associated with inflation--uncertainty and haphazard redistribution. Inflation, especially inflation that varies from month to month and year to year, makes long-term planning quite difficult. Prices, wages, taxes, interest rates, and other nominal values that enter into consumer, business, and government planning decisions can be significantly affected by inflation. Moreover, inflation tends to redistribute income and wealth in a haphazard manner--some people win and some people lose. This redistribution might not be that desired by society, failing to promote any of the basic economic goals of efficiency, equity, stability, growth, or full-employment.

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It's a bright spring morning, the sort of day that makes poets and pedestrians pontificate profusely about our wondrous world. But, wait... IT'S TEST DAY! You're late for an exam! You hurriedly roam the school halls, opening door after endless door along an infinite hallway, in search of your exam. All you discover, though, is Maurice Finklestein who smirks knowingly while ridiculing your tardiness. Why do we do it? Why do we put ourselves through 12 to 20 years of oppression in the halls of academia, learning stuff of questionable value? Why? Why? WHY?
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