As I sit gazing out at the ocean, I feel like a billionaire. Suddenly I have no compassion for poor people. I don’t want government to tax my riches or provide welfare to needy children. I detest the minimum wage as well as child labor laws in general. Government enforcement agencies for food, the environment, worker’s safety, or drug purity are unnecessary restrictions on my ability to make money in a free market.
Servants stand at attention as I eat my scrambled eggs, as my valet anticipates my next move. My personal secretary scribbles notes as I talk, transcribing my Wednesday rants into an autobiography. Politicians, global diplomats, technology billionaires, world leaders, and Hollywood stars cherish my invitations to my soirées. I would show up for a few moments, get bored, and wander off with Millicent, the 5’ 10”, blonde Norwegian bombshell daughter of the King of Norway. I would tell her I want her to star in my next movie, “Millicent”. We would swim naked in the ocean. The moon would glisten off her boobies.
As I sit here staring at the ocean, I understand how the 1%’ers get wrapped in their psychological psychosis. Instantly I feel different from the common rabble that I called my friends and family only yesterday. I’m not sure I want to go to work. I’ll need a billion dollars fast. Maybe I could inherit it. Maybe a long lost relative was the number four employee at Google and died without any relatives. I was the only one they could find. That’s it! Whew, I dodged being poor by almost not having a billion dollars. Luck is for the poor. For the rich, money flows to its natural source.
The ocean keeps waving outside my breakfast table, a steaming cup of hot coffee warming my hands, and the crisp ocean air spreading its secret ion chemistry over my body. It’s been two days now and suddenly I’m a different person. I’m not sure I can go back to my old life. Back there, I had to work. I had to make my own breakfast, take out the garbage, and live among other working class people. I talked with them, sure, and they were distantly friendly, but I secretly knew deep down inside this day would come.
I think the trick to keep this vacation going is to slow down time to a crawl. To accomplish that, I need to learn how to travel at the speed of light. I believe Einstein was onto something when it came to time and space. The only thing he forgot was the instruction manual on how to accomplish traveling at C, the speed of light. He did it all the time, traveled into space and back again. I have to wear a watch to remember the time. It’s not that I can’t imagine traveling at different time warp speeds. It’s just that the world around me doesn’t cooperate. I’ve learned how to close my eyes, imagine destinies in faraway places but I still find it better to visualize them using YouTube.
That’s okay. I’ll be here another few days. My mind will flow like the River Tao into a new billionaire lifestyle on its own. I call it … wait it’s coming … I call it … the Law of Visual Imagination and Wanting Stuff. I’m going to write a book about it and compete against The Secret, except I’m going to sell posters, coffee mugs, cosmetics, shampoos, vitamin supplements, clothing, and furniture. My mindscape program is a complete lifestyle makeover. For $2,500, you buy a starter kit and get people to sell the merchandise. The money is in setting up your downstream distribution network, kind of like multi-level marketing, but not, because multi-level marketing is a bad word and now they substitute good words to make bad things sound good. My program is good.
I might have to do a YouTube commercial. I don’t mind. I most likely will hire a famous actor, maybe Robert De Nero, although he is overexposed right now. Jennifer Lawrence! Now that’s a star. I’ll tell her to do it upfront free, but she can have 10% of the first 1,000 kits sold. How could she pass it up? She’ll jump on it.
My ocean transformation is already working. I’ve constructed a billion dollar franchise, hired a famous actress to sell it, and now all I have to do is sit back and enjoy my coffee. You know, it’s true what they say. Life is a beach!
THE COMPLEX NOW 