CHAPTER TWO
Crash Hell to Prosperity Heaven

BACKGROUND

September 11^th did not crash the world economies and stock markets. Al, Bill, and Bob did. That fact is revealed in a metaphorically-true Joycean story in which a drug-addled grifter named Al caricatures real-person Alan Greenspan in ways that Jewish advertising-salesman named Leopold Bloom caricatures fictional-person Ulysses*. The unseen story-backdrop, Bill, caricatures President Clinton as a Moby-Dick captain Ahab recklessly careening America toward destruction. While a smoothly-treacherous financial accountant, Bob, caricatures Robert Rubin as the Iago facilitator of Al and Bill.

This is a story about Al's journey from the crash hell of business criminality and religious mysticism to the prosperity heaven of humanistic Neo-Tech and secular Zonpower.

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*Ignore the religious-right and the cultist-Objectivists woefully ignorant condemnations of James Joyce's hard-to-grasp artwork, Ulysses. For Joyce's novel is certainly the greatest piece of literature art of the twentieth century. Ulysses is the art of similarities via opposites as well as similar epistemologies via opposite metaphysics and vice versa. Once understood, Ulysses rises to an unparalleled, almost unbelievable, artistic achievement in delivering endless contemplative values. At the same time, Ayn Rand's easy-to-grasp artwork, Atlas Shrugged, is certainly the most valuable fiction of the twentieth century in delivering endless philosophical values. ... And, today, Neo-Tech literature is proving to be the most important nonfiction work of the twentieth century in delivering endless practical values. For, as a starting point, Neo-Tech is already directly, tangibly enriching nearly two million lives worldwide.

Look to the future for Mark Hamilton's easy-to-embrace new novel, The First Immortals, becoming the most valuable, twenty-first-century fiction from which evolves a business/science/art civilization enriching billions of lives on planet Earth.

AL'S STORY

Forget Ishmael. Call me Al. Call my captain, Bill. Call my accountant, Bob.

You know me. I'm young, geekishly ugly, and still wear a baseball cap backward. You've seen me interviewed a dozen times in 1999 and early 2000 during the climax of captain Bill's great tech-bubble fraud facilitated by my accountant, Bob. As a glamorous Internet whiz kid, I became rich and famous by duping investors on financial cable programs. But, by June 2000, I'd lost not only all my investors' money, but lost everything I owned -- my trophy wife, my Lamborghinis, my Cigarette racing boat, my Las Vegas penthouse, my racehorses, my ski chalet, my access to Hollywood celebrities.

At first, after the crash, I tried to hire myself out as a computer expert. Yet, I nearly always caused more damage than good for my customers. I never cared, had no pride in my work, and accepted no responsibility for my actions. Wanting only to extract maximum money for the least work, I constantly, dishonestly overbilled my customers for careless, often faulty work. Besides, I knew nothing about legitimate business. I could list only three items of experience on my résumé: (1) that of a 26-year-old college dropout who majored in sociology, (2) that of a professional antibusiness demonstrator and protest organizer, and (3) that of a CEO of a mega-bankrupt dot.com company.

Soon, no one would hire me for anything. My financial frauds kept me from getting a work card to be a casino dealer. I got fired from Starbucks because of my seedy appearance. After that, even Burger King wouldn't hire me. ... Having over a hundred-million dollars only a few months before, I was now bankrupt, homeless, friendless, and covered with sores. Thus, I became a born-again Christian and considered changing my name to Jõb.

How did all that happen to me so quickly? Let me go back to the beginning: I quit college in the winter of 1998 and headed for Las Vegas to make a living servicing casino computers and playing Twenty-One. You see, without any basis, I fancied myself as both a computer genius and card-counting Blackjack pro. But with a drug-addled brain, I was unable to integrate more than two concepts at once. My character became too lazy to build any kind of an honest career. And, I steadily lost at the casino tables. In the fall of 1998, I contemplated my future while high on pot and wine. The more I contemplated, the more excited I became. I even became enthusiastic for the first time since childhood. Man, was I hatching a plan, or what? A foolproof plan to make millions.

Well, I really didn't have a viable business plan, for I knew nothing about business. In fact, I always hated business. I'd even been arrested several times for destruction of business property while demonstrating for the environment, for animal rights, against genetically altered crops, against multinationals. I was against anything and everything about business and science.

From a cheshire grin, I began chuckling, then snorting loudly. Finally, I broke into hysterical screeching with both hands spasmodically grasping handfuls of air. The wine I'd been gulping squirted from my nostrils. "Hey, world, I'm gonna be a businessman!" I barked, laughed, and then choked. "How 'bout that," I rasped with tears streaming down my beet-red cheeks. "I'm gonna be a rich bastard ... and a famous celebrity too. I'm gonna get all the high times and movie-star chicks I want. ... Yes, then I'll become a public servant -- a politician like JFK. I'll start by buying a senate seat. And then the Presidency? Why not? Bigger messes than I have done it. And, besides, I never killed or raped anyone."

The next morning, for the first time in my life, I threw myself into sustained, high-intensity efforts formulating and then developing a plan. Not a rational-business plan, mind you, for my ideas were irrational. But, my plan was irresistibly compelling to greedy ears ... and that's all that counted. Indeed, I had developed a dot.com scam for super-fast riches and sex-scoring notoriety.

The Rise

What great timing. I was debuting during the crest of the high-tech/IPO-stock mania. My plans comprised a high-fee dot.com site that linked both drug users and sex seekers to legal, cheap, safe suppliers worldwide. Within two weeks, I had three venture capitalists interested -- so interested that they could not sit still in their chairs as I glamorized my scheme. One even became so excited that he stood up, clutched his crotch, and began rocking from foot to foot as if he were about to urinate in his pants.

I was aiming to garner $250,000 in that first year. Instead, I corralled $350,000 during that one meeting alone. And, after only four months, I sucked a million dollars more into my bank accounts. ... My cool accountant, Bob, did creative bookkeeping. His slick work let me live as high as the moon.

I spent most of the money on luxurious business offices along with expensive clothes and cars. With my scheme, I had to increasingly impress investors with displays of prosperity and confidence. I did that with surprising ease. But, the venture capitalists seemed even greedier than I was. ... Six months later, I had twenty-million dollars at my disposal!

My hyperbolic pitches and Potemkin appearances kept mushrooming. Everyone believed me because each desperately wanted to. Investors and their money kept flooding in. I was their hero ... their savior. Thus, I switched my full focus to taking care of myself big time. Moving into a six-bedroom penthouse overlooking the Las Vegas Strip, I bought a trophy wife, his-and-her Lamborghinis, a sleek speedboat, two thoroughbred racehorses, and an Aspen ski chalet. ... My sole goal became cashing out at a billion dollars, letting the investors hold the bag. Yes, I was gonna be a billionaire!

I wheeled and dealed the investors' money into the most highly leveraged stock options, margin-loan accounts, and financial derivatives. One night, I even hit Caesar's Palace to play Baccarat at fifty-thousand dollars a deal. In five hours, I won eight-hundred-thousand dollars. I tipped the peon dealers and cocktail waitresses ninety-thousand dollars. I was the biggest of the comped big shots. I was treated like royalty. I had three showgirls at my disposal that night. I couldn't lose. Money and excitement poured in with my every move. Man, did I feel important. Why didn't I become a businessman years ago instead of wasting my time attacking business? ... Carnegie, Rockefeller, Gates step aside. I'm now the number-one business genius!

By the turn of the millennium, I controlled over a hundred-and-forty-million dollars with an IPO scheduled for May 2000. Hello billionaire! I threw a $130,000 Christmas party for my twenty-two employees. I spent $350,000 for a Y2K New-Years party for my investors and ended up sleeping with two of their wives. I was atop the world. ... Nothing could stop me!

The Fall

Then came March 2000. The high-tech bubble suddenly and viciously burst. You see, I was going to be a billionaire by August. Instead, by August, the IPO was never launched, all my investments had crashed and burned, leaving me with millions in unpaid margin loans. My wife left with my accountant after draining my personal assets and taking my jewelry along with everything else of pawnable value. I was flat broke, stripped of assets, buried under millions in debt. I even bankrupted my parents and they disowned me. ... Homeless and destitute, I became a born-again Christian for food.

Trash into Diamonds

Five months later, however, I was reborn for the third time. This time not as a con artist, not as a groveling Christian, but as a powerful Zon. It happened on that chilly morning of January 4, 2001. Rummaging for valuables and salable information in the trash cans of an upscale-Las-Vegas suburb, red flashes caught my eye. Twenty yards down the alley rising from a garbage can, beckoning like a cosmic monolith, was a rectangular package bedecked with fluorescent-red ribbons.

Hypnotically, I was drawn to those flickering signals. When I grabbed the package, another flash caught my eye. A glaring white flash compelled me to look skyward. Atop a flagpole in a walled yard sixty-feet from the trash cans was the lens of a video camera glittering in the brilliant sun. I froze, grinned at the camera staring at me, and started returning the beribboned package to the trash can. Wait a minute, I thought still grinning at the camera. This is discarded trash. It's mine! So, abruptly, I turned clutching the package and ran down the dusty alley. ... For some strange reason, the Eddie-Murphy movie Trading Places briefly popped into my mind.

Going to my cardboard shack under a freeway bridge, I ripped off the ribbons and tore open the block-like monolithic package. "Maybe it's stuffed with hundred-dollar bills," I rasped as my body shivered in the cold wind. Then, I cussed bitterly when I saw it was nothing but a photocopy of a thick, strange-looking manuscript. As I started to throw it into the oil-drum fire of my homeless buddies, the title caught my eye -- ZONPOWER: Bullets of Riches & Romance! I don't know why, but my hand holding the tome suddenly pulled it snug to my chest. Retreating fifty paces and sitting on a tipped-over shopping cart, I begin reading. It was written in plain English, easy to read. Yet, I soon sensed that beneath those words was another language -- a coded language -- a language unknown on Earth.

After a few minutes, my eyes were reading the words in an entirely different way. I was no longer reading in a normal, smooth-flowing analog manner. I was not reading from word to word, sentence to sentence, paragraph to paragraph. I was not reading to build comprehension of the written material. Instead, I was reading in a digital manner. As if composing a harpsichord concerto, I was plucking from each page word segments from here and there. ...Those segments began connecting into matrices yielding new harmonies of reality and fresh melodies of life.

At first, those segments acted as bullets blitzing my mind. They changed its very organization to yield totally different views of the past, present, and future. Those bullets were shattering the life-long corruptions woven throughout my body and soul. My head soon filled with a new power -- with never-before-glimpsed knowledge of the future. ...Past words and truths -- written or spoken -- now seemed irrelevant to reality and life.

A new thought electrified my mind: Is all written, spoken, and visual information throughout history up to this moment of the same non-reality? Is all written, spoken, and visual information irrelevant to reality until read, heard, or seen through this different mind organization -- through this new force? What is this force, anyway? Is it what Sophocles, Shakespeare and Molière struggled to discover but could never unleash? ... And, what was that video camera about?

For once in my life, I was taking my mind seriously -- very seriously. For the first time, I felt genuine power -- awesome, omnipotent power. Goose bumps ran up and down my body as that force took control of my eyes, connecting seemingly random words and phrases. Bits and pieces of future reality rushed into my brain, sweeping away the cobwebs that had atrophied my mind since childhood. Vivid pictures of the future began replacing hazy clouds of the past. ... Increasingly, I was reaping profits from endless new-color snapshots of the future.

Ten-Second Miracles

Today, seven months later, I can hardly believe what has happened to me -- the bonanzas of money, power, and sex. First, I retrieved my trophy wife. Under my new-mind aura, she transformed into an even-more-beautiful woman. But, this time, we became interlocked in love through always-new, indescribably-rapturous romance. With our new sexual powers, we knew each could have as many romantic partners as we wanted, whenever we wanted. But, we chose each other. And, together, we grew increasingly rich. ...The power and happiness we gained -- awesome!

We each became millionaires -- this time permanent, earned millionaires. All this only two months after I sat on that shopping cart reading that manuscript. And, after three months, we were multimillionaires. ... How did all that happen so quickly? It happened through rapid-fire, ten-second miracles streaming from that golden manuscript. And, today, I can beckon those miracles whenever needed, for whatever desired.

Eighteen months earlier, even with my hundred-plus-million dollars of disposable wealth, I was a doomed loser. Now, today, I'm a guaranteed winner. At first, I was stunned -- not realizing what really happened to me. Now, I understand the rapid escalation of profitable events flowing from that trash can. Still, why was a fraudulent loser like me chosen to receive this tremendous universal power? ... I kept thinking about that video camera.

Was it like when mythical God chose criminal murderer and rapist King David for some great Earthly task? ... If a total loser like me can soar into a life of limitless riches and sexual romance, then any conscious person can do the same upon accessing that manuscript.

Who will be chosen next to receive a copy of that manuscript? Who will seize that opportunity when it appears? I do not know those answers. But, I do know that whoever receives it must, as I did, seize that opportunity with all his or her alacrity and might. If not, that person dies a loser -- dies without ever enjoying a spectacular life of ever-expanding riches and forever-young romance here on Earth.

Al

The Story behind Al hitting the Jackpot

Al discovered the dynamics of nature that converge into a force called zonpower. That integrated force flows throughout nature's universal computer. With zonpower, Al evolves beyond any imagined God. In fact, any conscious person can evolve into a universe-controlling God -- a Zon. Do not the Mormons say something like that? Forget religion! For, with zonpower, conscious people soar past any potentate ruler or imagined God.

Ordinary man surpassing potentate rulers and almighty God? Decoded golden plates? Capitalism? Limitless wealth? Guiltless sex? Zon/Zion? Zonpower must somehow be linked to Mormonism. To the contrary! The realities of zonpower obliterate the fantasies of religions, including Mormonism and other cults. ... Zonpower buries religious humbug and its self-righteous boredom by delivering high-profit actions and romantic excitements -- right now, right here on Earth.

So, how does one acquire zonpower? How does one become an invisible Zon -- an invincible Supra God? By accessing the same decoded golden-plate manuscript that Al found atop a trash can in Las Vegas, Nevada, on January 4, 2001.

The Source of Al's Power

At 11:30 PM on Wednesday, April 12, 1972, a senior scientist at the Chestnut Run Laboratories of E. I du Pont de Nemours in Wilmington, Delaware, discovered and then opened a universal computer embedded throughout nature, but never-before perceived on planet Earth. From that omnipresent computer, unending quantum bits of future knowledge streamed forth. Two days later, at Du Pont's annual stockholders meeting, that scientist rose to deliver a speech outlining the irrationalities and mysticisms gripping upper management of that giant corporation. He then accurately predicted Du Pont's forthcoming malinvestments (such as in Conoco Oil) by a short-term, politically-correct/approval-seeking upper management. Such management, he further predicted, would cause corporate stagnation to persist into the twenty-first century. ... Immediately after that speech, he distributed a publication detailing those predictions. He then left his position as a Senior-Research Chemist and embarked on a mission to end such irrationalities and mysticisms.

Riches and Romance

Again, harking back to the Mormons. As a group, they are among the most admirable, financially successful, and sexually happy people on Earth. But, the 20^th-century Neo-Tech discoveries, not the 19^th-century Mount-Cumorah tomfooleries, yield the decoded "Golden Plates" first inscribed 2400 years ago by a wealthy Greek speculator, not 1400 years ago by an imagined mystical prophet.

In 1830, Mormon-founder Joseph Smith concealed himself under a cloth hood. He then held two stones while pretending to decode his so-called Golden Plates glibly pulled from his imagination while plagiarizing a science-fiction novel by Solomon Spaulding. ... Smith's "decoded" manuscript yielded the mind-forfeiting Mormon delusions of an afterlife paradise with one's entire family -- not unlike the life-forfeiting Muslim delusions of an afterlife paradise with a harem of sloe-eyed virgins.

By contrast, in 1972, that Du Pont scientist used two conscious-mind devices -- fully-integrated honesty (FIH) and wide-scope accounting (WSA) -- to decode his metaphorical Golden Plates pulled from the universal computer wired throughout nature. For nearly three decades, he concealed his cosmic findings over concerns of misinterpretations that could trigger mystical/religious/cult beliefs among the populace. Such bogus beliefs would undermine his plans for ultimately delivering limitless riches and romantic happiness to conscious life on Earth. ... But, now, the September-11^th attacks and collapsing world economies removed those concerns.

The decoded golden plates yield knowledge for creating the future -- future knowledge available today at every level of consciousness. Think about that: Future knowledge available today. Think about one's power on possessing such knowledge. ... For eons, future knowledge and limitless power have flowed throughout the fabric of existence within ten-seconds of anyone's reach.

For Al, discovering that knowledge meant, "Free, free at last, thank Zons almighty, I'm forever free -- I'm forever rich -- I'm forever happy."

(draft #45 -- revised 11/09/01)
copyright © 2001

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