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The Story


Chapter Thirteen

The children in Miss Annabelle's class were changing fast. They were changing from little children to powerful thinkers. And they loved it!

She asked Mr. Melbourne to speak to her class. She wanted him to reveal to her students what he had told her at the romantic restaurant. The open-ended future through the new mind versus the dead-end future through the world as it was would alert her students to the major breakthroughs they could someday make using the new puzzle-building Neothink mentality.

The very next day, Mr. Melbourne delivered his lecture: "A few of you have advanced to the mind of the future. Oh, what power you possess. Let me tell you about it." All twelve students sat up and listened closely. They liked what they heard, and they would discover that Mr. Melbourne was one of them.

*

That night, Miss Annabelle whispered in his ear, "You were beautiful today with the kids."

Like a proud father, he asked if she saw the look in their faces. For an hour, they talked about the looks and reactions on each child's face.

"Talking to your students today was an honor," he told her. "I've never, never experienced an atmosphere like that. ...Thank you."

Miss Annabelle melted when she heard those words of admiration.

"John, I want you to know...I've never known real love before," she heard herself saying. She felt her eyes fill with tears. "I haven't known you long, I know. But I've never felt like this before with anyone."

They talked late into the night. They shared their dreams and ambitions.

Miss Annabelle, of course, was focused on a very near-term goal: to make it through the school year and equip her twelve students with the power to see the essence of things, to see through the matrix of illusions to what is. She was achieving startling success, but she was terrified that any day the school board could issue an emergency substitute teacher for the remainder of the school year. Such a measure would destroy everything. Miss Annabelle knew she would not be teaching here again.

She told John everything, from the incident with Burke to the showdown with Hammerschmidt. She also told John that she feared people at the school discovering their romantic relationship.

"The school board will use it against me, and against you, too," she insisted.

John Melbourne had a strong, fearless personality. He was also sweet and supportive. "I'll do this any way you wish," he assured her. "But, I want you to know that I'll step up to your defense instantly when it'll help you, no matter what. It's not something that can be controlled. ...Yes, we'll be smart and play our cards to outsmart those dishonest people. But when the time comes, I'll be there and will be a force to reckon with."

Just listening to his strong voice made her feel better about things. She knew the school board would not leave her alone as long as Hammerschmidt was in charge. She lived with anxiety every day, dreading another summons...particularly now that some of her students were articulating extraordinary ideas. She feared that some of those brilliant ideas could, ironically, grow into more accusations against her such as teaching blasphemy and hatred toward the government.

But she felt strength in John Melbourne. He was a remarkably bright man who had spent the past 16 years teaching by day, researching and writing by night. He told her about his goals, too, which were broad and long range.

He was the son of a self-made entrepreneur who invented products that made people's lives more efficient. At first, his dad sold his inventions through direct mail. His products sold well, and his business eventually grew into a chain of retail stores. He searched the world for inventions that made life more convenient. He would advance promising inventions into commercial products that sold only in his stores.

John Melbourne developed a deep appreciation of the effort that went into creating and providing affordable values to others, known as business. He admired self-made businessmen.

Eighteen years ago, he told Miss Annabelle, he was sitting in the University of Sydney, Australia listening to his economic professor when his whole life changed.

"There I was, a 19-year-old kid listening to the esteemed Professor Rosewall," he said, "when I leapt from my chair, ran to the front of the class and started putting big black X's through his stack of overhead transparencies! One after the other, I'd place a transparency on the overhead projector, put a big X through it, and loudly proclaim, `Bullshit!'"

Miss Annabelle laughed. "Whatever inspired you to do that?" she queried, very interested in the rebel she was seeing in him.

"Professor Rosewall seemed to have a relentless dislike for business -- especially the self-made businessman. I put up with his attacks for awhile, but that particular day, I looked around at my classmates while he lectured. I remember their faces -- openly watching and listening...innocently absorbing his envy. Then I looked back at Rosewall. He looked so worn and sinister as he put up one overhead after the other showing facts and graphs that were out of context, building toward some conclusion that self-made businessmen were greedy people who were out to hurt society. Day after day, he made his way through his career sanctimoniously denouncing people like my dad. All those students absorbed his attacks without the victims able to raise their voices. In the stream of young minds that passed through his class year after year, he destroyed in their minds people like my father who worked his tail off to bring a lot of values to a lot of people. Even worse, he destroyed their desire to be like my dad...he destroyed their dreams. I just couldn't sit there any longer and let him so dishonestly destroy good men. So, I X'd off every overhead image and got suspended for one week. But I know that I brought a few of those kids out of Rosewall's spell. Their lives could be totally different today."

"I like what you did, John," Miss Annabelle said, putting her hand on his. "I like to see people do what is honest and courageous."

"That moment was the turning point in my life," he said. "During my week out of school, I started reading like I never read before. I wanted to figure out exactly how civilization prospered. I started reading history to learn about the prosperous civilizations versus the poor ones. I started reading economic theories. I even started reading different philosophies. And you know what? In the end, the answer was elegantly simple: the businessman creating and efficiently distributing values and employing people makes society prosperous. Now I was explicitly understanding what I implicitly knew before.

"So when I returned in one week, instead of humbly apologizing for my actions, I boldly challenged Dr. Rosewall to a debate! You should've seen the look on his face! `Me for the businessman, you for the politician,' I said. He was shaken, but he couldn't back down in front of his students. So we set the date two weeks from my challenge.

"The debate quickly became the buzz. The next day I saw posters everywhere with a headline that read: Challenger Johnny `Badboy' Melbourne versus Reigning Champ Dr. Kelvin Rosewall. The debate became a major event at the University; everyone was talking about it, like a championship prize fight. The magnitude of it spurred great motivation within me to dig into the books like I never have before. For the first time, I was putting in 16-hour days of intense research studying economics for theory...and history for proof. I was determined to defeat that dishonest academe who was destroying young people's minds.

"As it turned out, I really enjoyed those two intense weeks of research so much that I didn't stop after that. I gained so much knowledge and power in such a short time that I decided to keep going. I just kept on studying and pulling together more and more information from all subjects on economics, history, philosophy, psychology, biology, physics. All that knowledge kept building, and I kept integrating it all together into a giant 3-D picture about life, which is what I've been doing ever since, researching and writing around my teaching job. I'm nearly ready to publish my work."

The more Miss Annabelle learned about Mr. Melbourne, the more fascinated she became. There was so much more to him than she ever imagined.

"I had no idea you've been developing this," she said.

"No one does. Well, of course my ex-wife knew about it." he answered, suddenly realizing he brought his ex into the new relationship.

"You mean, you've been putting this enormous energy into this book for eighteen years and no one, besides your ex-wife, even knows it?" Miss Annabelle said, not affected by his previous marital status, although innerly curious about it.

"That's right," he said matter-of-factly.

Miss Annabelle's appreciation of this man soared again. Here was a man so dedicated to a goal and yet so modest that he rarely talked about it. She was also flattered that he was telling her. "What is the underlying theme to your work?" she asked.

"Prosperity," he simply answered, "prosperity in every way: financially, personally, romantically. The final three chapters of my work fell into place as I listened to your lectures. Witnessing the state of your students gave me the living proof of the naturalness of the new mind, which I've been hypothesizing. I'll always be grateful to you, as you'll see when you read my book."

Miss Annabelle felt a floating sensation inside as she realized she contributed to her lover's lifetime work. She also felt a burning curiosity. She wanted to read his book, starting now. It was the fastest and deepest way into the heart, mind, and soul of this man she loved.

"Can I start reading it tonight?" she asked.

"In about a month it'll be ready for you to read," he answered. As the author, he was not ready to release it, even to his lover, until he was satisfied.

"Did your ex-wife read it?" Miss Annabelle asked, feeling a little jealous.

"No, not a page," he said. "In fact, I never even discussed it with her. She was a nice person, but she was never interested in my work."

"But this project is you. It's your life and what you're all about. What could be more exciting to your woman?"

John Melbourne wanted to take her and make love to her right then and there; he wanted to make her his woman. But he stopped himself. That would come later. Right now, this beautiful woman before him wanted to know more about him, and he let her ask her questions:

"Can you tell me more about your book?"

"I could, but it would be best if you read it first, because it's so different and built on so many years of foundation. I can tell you this much: no publisher will touch it. It's too anti-Establishment for them."

"So, how are you going to get it out there?"

"I learned the direct mail business inside and out, growing up in my father's company. I'm going to publish and market the book myself."

"Oh John, that's exciting. ...Will you still teach?"

He hesitated, then answered, "I'm really not there yet to try to answer that. I love teaching; I'd miss it if I had to leave."

Miss Annabelle snuggled up against her man and said, "I'd really love to stay up and talk all night about your book if you'd let me! ...But since you won't talk about it yet, tell me what happened in your debate with Dr. Rosewall."

"Oh, what a night!" he laughed. "I felt like the young Cassius Clay fighting the champion Sonny Liston. I was the underdog who trained for this `fight' beyond all human expectations. So many people showed up that we had to move the debate from the student union to the University's theater, which delayed the start for about 45 minutes. A number of students shouted out things like, `clean him out, mate!' Some were chanting `No more bull...no more bull!' I remember someone, I think he was a professor, yelling in my face, `Now you'll know what it feels like in the slaughterhouse!' I just tried to stay calm and focused.

"When things finally settled down and the audience was seated, Rosewall and I took our places behind two podiums on the stage with microphones hooked into the PA system. This debate had no rules like those you see on TV today. So it got interesting right from the start. Rosewall came out swinging. He put on a forceful, lawyer-like voice that seemed to rock the building: `Businessmen, if left unattended and unregulated by government, will rip you blind!'

"I was shocked when a huge cheer boomed back at us. What's this? I thought to myself. I was intimidated, but I refused to show it. In the middle of the cheer, I bellowed back, `Yes, businessmen will rip you blind. In fact, I'll show you how they'll drive you into poverty!'

"The crowd went silent. Even my supporters didn't know what to do: they couldn't very well cheer for what I had just said. They must have thought I cracked. Astonished faces stared back at me or looked to their neighbors for some answer. Was I here to support...or to bash the businessman? Even Dr. Rosewall looked bewildered. At that moment, I said calmly into a stone silent room that gave me its full attention, `Don't you know, two types of businessmen exist: 1) market businessmen who survive by creating and marketing increasing values at decreasing prices, and 2) political businessmen who survive by aligning themselves with political clout to receive advantages and special rights of way over competition. Those political businessman are the greedy money-mad sleaze who rip you blind. They flourish because of the laws and regulations Dr. Rosewall will try to tell you are needed to protect you! Dr. Rosewall's argument today is an ironic joke. The very regulations he argues for creates advantages for the big-business political businessmen who, in turn, line the politicians' pockets. It's a nice relationship. The politicians' regulations choke off competition from the value-producing market businessmen, especially the smaller entrepreneurs. I urge all students to keep their own minds working in overtime as Dr. Rosewall serves up his hodgepodge of socialism. And that goes for you who take his class, because his class is, put politely, a sucker trap!'

"Rosewall snapped, `Now that's enough, young man!' I could hear him on the stage's sound monitors, but the crowd cheered so loudly for me that I don't think they heard him. He had no choice but to let them quiet down some, which took a good minute or so. Then he said, `Alright, Mr. Melbourne. You used a very clever debate technique. My hat's off to you. But while they applaud you, I laugh at you. You argue in the face of centuries of philosophers and economists who devoted entire lifetimes to their studies. You, at your tender age, speak in sophomoric simplicities. You're a newbie at how things work in the complex world of economics and politics. You have a lot to learn still, and your argument can be dismissed as simply too naive.'

"Rosewall was a skilled debater. By taking away my credibility, he could take away my entire argument in one fell swoop, no matter how sound. I was inexperienced, and his approach caught me off guard. I stood there with nothing to say. I thought, how do I answer him? Everything he said about me being young and naive was true, although I still knew I was right. But how would I continue? Everything I'd say would now seem naive and too simplistic. While I stood there wondering, he took advantage of my uncertain state and said in a rich, paternal voice, `It's only natural at your young age, to think you can come along and change the world for the better. I only commend you for your brave effort, Mr. Melbourne. But life is so much more complicated than that, as you'll discover, unfortunately, with age. Remember, there must always be a balance of power between business and government. I'm not saying business is bad or that government is good. I'm just saying, like anything, you must have balance. Without balance, you'll have unregulated drug companies putting out drugs that deform babies. And, to the other extreme, you'll have excessive regulation with no important drugs reaching those who need them. ...Johnny, you need balance.'

"He was good, as good as any politician I'd ever heard. He sounded fair and objective, but I knew he was creating an illusion of objectivity to block, as you would say, the essence of things or what is."

"I'm getting goose bumps listening to you," Miss Annabelle injected. "I wish I were there! Whatever did you do now?"

"I remember struggling with the illusion. I could feel drops of sweat breaking free and running down my back and down my sides over my ribs. I started thinking, the world really is complicated, and I really am very young and inexperienced. My confidence started to wither as Rosewall kept working his spell, `Come back to my class, Johnny, and give me another chance. You're free to disagree at anytime, but let's discover together the faults that make this an imperfect world we live in. I understand you hold businessmen on a pedestal. And I know you genuinely believe that in your own mind. I was once like you, Johnny, but then over the years I learned reality versus my own fantasies. Businessmen are people. They're not perfect. They succumb to temptation. And officials elected by the people are needed to keep them in line. That's reality, son.'

"The veteran professor had broken my spirit, and he knew it. Now, with no resistance from me, he really poured it on, `Johnny, come back to my class. When I look at you, I see myself thirty years ago. I'll show you the real world, son. Let it be known, you won here, tonight, Johnny. You won the battle to journey forth from the innocence of childhood into the harsh real world. Come back to my class, and we'll journey that road together. Let me shake your hand and welcome you to your future.' He started walking toward me with his hand out, wearing a warm, infectious grin. The students, overwhelmed by the niceness of it all, started to clap. I didn't know what to do as he stood before me with his hand out and the students clapping. I didn't know what to say. I felt great pressure to reach out and shake his hand. I looked once more out into the audience. The young men and women seemed to be clapping almost robotically. Their faces seemed eerie...blank. I flashed back to the sea of innocent faces in his classroom three weeks ago that sent me rushing to his overhead projector. I looked back at Rosewall, and suddenly his gracious smile seemed like a mask. It was covering a monster, and I knew it! All at once, my fear and anxiety evaporated. I dropped my hand that I had half raised toward his in my weak moment, then I turned away from him and addressed the crowd, `Thank you, Dr. Rosewall, very much for everything you've done here tonight.' He was still smiling. `You have created a real-world anecdote for everyone in here to observe and learn our lesson.' He still wore his smile, but it was getting stiff. `You, sir, in your support of politicians and bureaucrats, represent the politician. I, teenage son of a well-known self-made entrepreneur, represent the up-and-coming businessman. I'm at a young and tender age, as you yourself put it. You graciously approach me with your hand out, your mouth grinning, your voice hypnotically endearing, and you encourage me to join you on a journey. You and me together. You the politician and me the young businessman, we team up and tacitly become partners in this complicated real world...made complicated by people like you -- the politician and regulator! Sure, I can surrender my innocence and my drive to create greater values at cheaper prices like my dad, and I can come into your world of dishonest collaboration between politicians and political businessmen. The politician gets his monetary connections and unearned power; the political businessman gets his political connections and unearned advantages. And together we could reap easy money and power and make the world a very, very complicated place for everyone else with all those regulations and taxes that choke off the real competition. A nice and happy team we'd surely make, politician and businessman. But through our joint journey of feel-good smiles and seemingly compassionate regulations, we're the bloodsuckers! Let there be no mistake! Dr. Rosewall is right: the real world is very complicated. The more complicated, in fact, the more opportunity for politicians, bureaucrats, and political businessmen to multiply and flourish. All I ever wanted to do was to get out there and work my tail off to create exciting values and to figure out ways to get more and more of my creations around the world through creative marketing and price reductions. But you come along and seductively say, come with me innocent youth; there's an easier way to go through this harsh, complicated world. To make it out there, you must join with me. Then you reach out to me.'

"By now Rosewall had gone back to his podium. He lashed out, `You're putting words into my mouth, mister!' His mask of niceness was off and the monster was out; he lost his cool and snapped, `You try your sophomoric thinking in the real world, and you'll be sunk you little punk...er, I mean, society will be sucked dry by the bloodsucking businessmen.' I said, `That's right, millions of tender youth do sink or never even get started, especially the lone entrepreneur who is the seed of all future jobs and values. He or she cannot make it against you and your parasitical class of politicians and regulatory bureaucrats and political businessmen. Furthermore, you scare everyone into believing that the politicians and regulatory bureaucrats are needed to keep those so-called bloodsucking market businessmen in line. That way, with a willing public, you'll always have your bogus jobs, easy money, and unearned power. You'll always have your parasitical class.'

"Rosewall was mad. He was also scared. He cried, `You're just a kid -- you don't know what you're talking about. I'm a tenured Professor, and I've spent my whole life studying this!' I saw his hands were shaking as I said, `And how many thousands of innocent spirits have you broken?' He turned toward the audience and, recovering from his outburst, said, `It's obvious Mr. Melbourne is stuck on a fantasy about the almighty businessman. It's very understandable, for his father is a famous businessman, and Mr. Melbourne obviously idolizes his father and stands to inherit his fortune. It's obvious I can't enlighten this young man. But let me tell you, without your public servants, you would be the subjects of a world of greed. Respect your elected officials. They, not the businessmen, are your true friends.' When he finished, I said, `Earlier I warned you to think for yourselves. Less than five minutes later, Dr. Rosewall overcame your minds with his generous offer to take me on a journey with him...a journey, it turns out, into dishonesty and parasitism. Yet, you felt his embracing grin, as did I, and you clapped for his emotional generosity. He's a politician; he's one of them. And he's taking all of you for a ride into his world of envy and dishonesty against those who are good, honest, hard-working people. Don't go on his journey. Abandon him. Without you, his power and that of his soul mates -- the politicians and regulatory bureaucrats -- lose their unearned power. They'll become powerless to live off of us, the producers. See him for who he is -- a man seething with envy against innocent value producers. If you can't see through his smiles and charm, hear his envy. Every day in class he attacks the businessman -- the good -- as someone evil who needs to be supervised. He attacks the successful person you once hoped to become. Journey with this man, and he'll destroy your spirit to succeed and replace it with envy to destroy those who succeed. To rekindle that spirit to succeed is why I'm standing before you tonight -- ' Rosewall cut me off and said, `Knowing the way businessmen think, I wouldn't doubt that your father put you up to this to drum up some sales.' I snapped back, `When you talk like that, you demonstrate that you are the naive one. It takes a lot more than a mere debate to, as you put it, drum up sales. I grew up in my father's business and know the enormous effort that goes into creating and marketing values. You certainly would never make it as an honest market businessman, and you know it. That's why you envy businessmen so.' Rosewall laughed nervously and said, `Son, I've studied, in depth, everything from Plato to Kant. Who have you studied? I could have and argued their works, but I knew you'd be lost. Do you want to try me?' I responded, `You're the academe; you're not the market businessman. In many ways, you're the one who's lost, not me. I grew up as a first-hand witness of the market businessman. I saw how hard my father worked to create wonderful values and to find ways to cut costs to bring those values to more people. In the ways that count, I'm not so lost. People like me, like my classmates -- we're young. We're just starting our lives. We want to go out there and make values for the world that people want. That'd make us successful financially and emotionally. But before we get our chance, you pollute our minds by making us think the very person we dream of becoming is someone bad -- that greedy businessman who's destroying society. So, you break our spirit, Dr. Rosewall. Year after year, you break hundreds of young adults. You fill these young adults with shame for those people they strive to become.' Rosewall started categorically denying everything I was saying, but I turned to the students and raised my voice over his and shouted, `Even if you cannot see through Dr. Rosewall's clever tactics, ask yourself if he's attacking or putting down the value producer. If he is, then no matter how convincing he is, say one word silently in your head: envy. If that word seems a little too academic, then when Dr. Rosewall puts down the creator of values and jobs, say one other word silently in your head: bullshit. ...That's all I have to say on this matter. I hope I've helped rekindle some snuffed-out spirits in here tonight. Thank you. Thank you!'

I was prepared for an applause, but not for the thunderous ovation that rocked the theater. Rosewall was trying to object, but the power of the students overwhelmed him. He suddenly looked like a nervous, guilty little man. About five students rushed onto the stage carrying a tall trophy. One of them rushed to my microphone and blurted out that he was the captain of the University's debate team and that I had performed one of the most convincing debates he'd ever witnessed. The debate team unanimously declared me the winner and, to my surprise, presented me with the four-foot victory trophy. Dr. Rosewall stormed off the stage and out of the building. I accepted the trophy, but explained to the crowd that the key to my strength was not a focus on winning, but a focus on honesty. I said, `Even if it means losing the debate or embarrassing myself, I would not hesitate to change if I realized I was out of focus with reality.' The crowd gave me a standing ovation. I was a hero. I never again attended Rosewall's class, and about half his students dropped his class. The next year, he transferred to another, smaller, city college."

Miss Annabelle had been curled up next to him on the couch, listening and imagining herself as a college girl in the audience that night. She smiled at him and asked, "Why didn't you ever sit near me when I used to eat in the teacher's lunch room?

"Because you're so beautiful," he answered smoothly, sincerely.

"Oh? You avoid beautiful women?" she said, laughing.

"Beauty and emotional maturity never seemed to go together, until I met you. Wow, had I any idea who you were!"

"Make love to me, my darling," she whispered.



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