What If I Won $360 Billion and Actually Fixed the World?

A lottery fantasy where the money fights homelessness, hunger, and Fox News lies instead of funding private jets.

I love buying a lottery ticket.

Not every week, mind you; it has to be a huge, mega jackpot. I can’t be bothered with those minuscule $10 million jackpots—who has time for that? LOL, who am I kidding? I’d be happy with a fraction of that—$10,000 would help pay some bills for sure.

“A dollar and a dream” used to be the slogan (inflation brought it up to $2). But as long as I’m dreaming, I might as well dream big.

That’s really the thrill of buying lottery tickets, isn’t it? First, you hear from a friend or relative that the lottery jackpot is almost ONE billion dollars, and you’re stunned at first—how could it have gotten so big? Clearly, the fates have been waiting for ME to play!

Sure, with the odds of winning a billion-dollar lottery at one in 302 million, there are better chances of getting struck by lightning twice (one in 9 million—isn’t that nuts?), but somebody has to win, right? And you have to be in it to win it, so you buy a ticket.

That first 15 minutes is golden… you luxuriate in the whole fantasy of winning: the initial shock, the secrecy of hiding your win from everybody except immediate family, hiring security to go get your winnings, and then the spending. Oh, the spending.

In my mind, to be honest, $10 million would be life-changing. But a BILLION dollars? I couldn’t even fathom it.

With that amount of money, I could invest in something and live off the interest alone, take care of my immediate family, relatives, and close friends, and still have a whopping $500 million left over for “stuff.”

Now wait a minute, Majid: you’re forgetting about the taxes in this fantasy—you’d have to give up half of that billion dollars in taxes! How fucked up is that? In my own improbable fantasy, I have to pay half of my fortune in taxes while other billionaires pay NOTHING in taxes.

Well, let me restructure this damn fantasy, then. Instead of a mere $1 billion, suppose I had real “fuck you” money? What if I had ALL of Elon Musk’s money, but none of his shitty, frat boy-seeking-acceptance, owning the Libs tendencies? What if I could be the richest man on Earth and NOT punch down at the less fortunate? What would THAT look like?

What if I had command of the ungodly sum of $360 billion?

First things first: family. Two million to each of my extended family (aunts and uncles, cousins, my wife’s relatives)—figure that’s about $200 million. Then $40 million for each of my five kids—I don’t want to give them TOO much and kill their drive and desire to build for themselves.

My two sisters: $2 billion each. They are two of the best, most principled humans I know, and I am certain they would use the majority of that money for projects to help the environment, disabled children, women’s rights, etc.

For my wife and me, nothing too fancy: a new house, a second car, maybe a vacation home in a tropical climate—$10 million tops. But then I’d invest a billion in some real estate and other ventures so we could live comfortably on the interest.

So, if I round up, figure I’ve spent $6 billion and have $354 billion left over.

Next thing I’m doing is I’m going to buy Fox News and force those lying Fox assholes to tell the fucking truth and admit on the air that they’ve been lying to everyone for all these years because the outrage they were selling was more lucrative than the truth. I’m guessing that purchase is about $20 billion. $334 billion left.

Then I’d spend another $25 billion and buy Twitter back (its value has plummeted), and I’d hire a team of experts to undo all of the extremist damage done to the platform that would make advertisers want to come back (you know, instead of telling them to go fuck themselves). $309 billion left.

I’ve been homeless before and all too familiar with the hopeless feeling that goes with that, so I’d invest $50 billion to end homelessness in America. I know it would be challenging, especially dealing with the “not in my backyard” pushback that I’d be sure to get from whatever communities would be impacted, but where there’s a will, there’s a way. I would create working, successful models in major cities in five states to prove the concept before rolling it out across the country. $259 billion left.

Alzheimer’s research, $39 billion: one of the cruelest things I’ve ever seen is when an elderly loved one no longer remembers their own spouse, children, and life-long friends, all of their memories built over a lifetime lost to the ravages of this brutal disease. $220 billion left.

World hunger, $100 billion: I know, it’s complicated. Every fucking thing is complicated—money and good management will help uncomplicate it. There are warlords, bad actors, and corrupt governments in so many regions that refuse to let food get through to needy populations. But we’ve spent as much money on bombs and missiles that kill people; we should be willing to spend to FEED people. It’s too important to do nothing about it. $120 billion left.

Democracy, $50 billion: This money would be spent over the course of 20 years to help local communities around America elect leaders who will support a woman’s right to bodily autonomy, education, healthcare, a living wage, and other democratic principles. Republicans have been cleaning our clocks for years by investing in these local races; it’s time to claw some of it back because it’s all about LOCAL politics. $70 billion left.

For the last $70 billion, I’m not really sure. It’s way too much money, and I couldn’t take it with me, so I’d prefer for it to be used in some way to do the most good for the most people. Climate change? Pollution? Free clinics? I really don’t know—perhaps I’d need to hire a group of advisors to help me come to a decision that makes the most sense.

The point is, how can ONE person have all that wealth and spend an inordinate amount of their time insulting people, shitting on people who are less fortunate, firing veterans, and taking away their suicide hotlines? Threatening people’s Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid?

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’m not a wealthy man, financially. But I know the joy that comes from helping people less fortunate than myself. I remember those cold winter days when I was starving, and kind strangers bought me a hot meal without asking for anything in return.

Maybe I could invest $10 billion in a massive fleet of food trucks staffed by chefs who would go into the poorest neighborhoods and make excellent food at extremely discounted prices, if not altogether free. Please leave your suggestions for how to spend the remaining $60 billion in the comments below.

If you’ve enjoyed this wild ride through a billionaire’s fantasy budget—and the idea of using wealth to lift up communities instead of tearing them down—please consider supporting my work with a paid subscription. Every dollar helps me keep writing about the issues that matter: democracy, local power, and the fight for a fairer America. I’m not asking for $50 billion (yet!), but your support can fuel more stories that challenge the status quo and champion the underdog. Upgrade today and let’s build something better together!