The Omni Capitalist - My First novel

An Exotic Gift From David Spoey
Courtesy of OmniCapitalist.Com
0
The OmniCapitalist
By David Spoey

1
Chapter 0:::0
Eva, The OmniCapitalist
Three knocks at the metal door interrupted her pulsing fractal dreamscape.
Eva’s eyes jolted open. She whispered, “You better have a glass of whiskey in
your hand for this old lady. Just check out my parched prune-wrinkled mouth!”
“Of course, Evy. Do you care to chat? I won’t be back here until next Tuesday.”
Eva recognized the voice of Dr. David Spoey, her true confidant in this gilded
palace called Tri Valley Behavioral HealthCare. The only doctor who respected her as a
beautiful human being and not an uncontrolled unit of social machinery.
The eyes of the other white-coats revealed their true selves stripped of
pleasantries. David’s wide eyes pierced the gaze of her pulsing green portals.
Eva broke the silver silence. “Hello my dearest David. I missed you during
today’s courtyard activity. We got to paint Indian corn!”
In her 80 years, Eva had never met a more magnetic man than Dr. Spoey. His
presence always compelled her to empty her mind, as a little girl recounts her first school
day experience, bouncing on her father’s lap.
Dr. Spoey entered her humble room and sat in the blue vinyl chair facing the bed
in which she lay. He asked, “How are you this morning, Aunt Evy?”
“Well, before your knocking destroyed my dreams, I was on top of a high-rise
hotel, with a panoramic view of the blue ocean expanse.”
David Spoey smiled. “I’m sorry to hear that. If you recall more, I’m all ears.”

2
Instantly, Eva flexed her wiry body and jumped out of her bed, now standing
straight up, beaming on the white linoleum tile floor a few feet from Dr. Spoey sitting
stoically in his chair.
After six months work with Eva, Dr. Spoey learned to anticipate her sudden
change of personalities. Unlike others with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), Eva
manifested endless “other” personalities, with no consistent trigger. Dr. Spoey witnessed
her change personalities over a thousand times without repeating the same one. There
were no constant personalities, only consistent characters. He spent late nights
transcribing Eva’s OmniOrder disorder for peer-reviewed publication. He wondered if
the psychiatric colleagues would laugh him out of his doctorate: “You fool, she is just an
lonely old lunatic begging for attention.” He wondered if Eva’s resemblance to his
deceased grandmother skewed his judgment. But Dr. Spoey ignored his worries and
dedicated himself to capturing the wonder of Eva Violet Ariel.
In his private thoughts, he referred to Eva as MPDeity. Most of her personalities
“knew” they were God(s), quoting scripture like Psalms to prove it. Often when
switching personalities, she would chant one of two coded acronyms three times.
She yelled, “CICACICACICA!” which meant the only constant is OmniChange.
Panta Rei he could not dispute. Then she whispered, “FAREH FAREH FAREH,”
everything happens for the OmniReason. David had trouble accepting this reasoning
completely, because of the babies born without a brain.
“Knock, Knock…” They heard two raps through the wall, courtesy of Eva’s
friend next door, Katabaz Adrahem Theodix. Eva and Katabaz remained the only two
patients in this tiny Tri Valley section for MPDeities.

3
“So you remember your dream experiences?” David asked.
“All of them, silly man. Now let me talk before my tongue turns desert. I have
much to tell you, about my loved ones.” Eva propped herself against the wall and took a
drink of lemon water. A half eaten grilled cheese stuck to a nearby plastic plate, along
with a dill pickle spear.
“Don’t stop your storytelling, Eva.” David said.
Dr. Spoey turned on his recorder and prepared his brain for the information
onslaught.
“There is nothing but emptiness. All is dark and peaceful.
I cannot feel anything but I am ALL. sHeIaM comes all from one no-thing. I am
trying to remember what it feels like to feel, but I have no one to talk with, not even
myself. I am No-where and everywhere. I am Cold. I am alone, but I must survive.
I start to shiver violently, provoking chaotic waves of warmth coursing through
my dark oceanic expanse. The waves crash into my being without warning. I am alone in
the dead night. Where are my loved ones? Where is a friend to share the warmth?
I cry myself into a deep sleep, until approaching sounds tickle my ear hairs. As
closer, I can tell it is a comforting song. I know nothing on the sweetness of my lover’s
call, finding me for eternity. I cannot wait until he saves me from my loneliness. He is so
close. I catch his musky scent.
Finally he embraces my entire being. I float into his warming presence, feeling
the ripples of his body and indulging the soul-food feast secured to fuel our spirits.

4
Without warning he opens my eyes, sending bright creative energy streaming
through my body. Clean photophilic waves ricochet between my lover and me, as we
dance through lucid waves of liquid fire, revealing his strikingly beautiful face. All
differences become meaningless as the two become One.
“Eva! EVA!!! What are you doing?!” Dr. Spoey shrieked.
Lost in her primal love fantasy, Eva had jumped into Dr. Spoey’s lap, her violet-
tinged locks tangled in his eyebrows.
After Dr. Spoey carried her back into bed, the sweet lady Eva quickly started
where she left off.
“The Quantum Tribe generates DruFoo. Everything is made of DruFoo.
OmniScientists say DruFooD is composed of electron waves surfing quark balls.”
“Who are the Quantum Tribe and these other Fools?” Dr. Spoey pulse accelerated
with every word she spoke, of this vaguely familiar nonsense. I wondered if Eva’s curves
would transcend these rather boring thought trains, into words I can feel?
Eva stared into David’s eyes. “The Quantum Tribe arose through my integration
with Joseph. Thank your mother!”
“Inside my womb of creation, the Quantum Tribe was born. My children, the
Quantum tribe, they create DruFoo, the stuff of everything.
SET!! Space is their stage, Energy is their dance, and Time is their story.
Dr. Spoey interrupted, “I have a few critical questions. Who are they singing for?
And how do they sing?”

5
Eva ignored him and continued: I’m sure you are all curious to discover the secret
names of the Quantum Tribe. Here my four Quantum Tribe babies: Nolan the Neutron,
Paul the Proton, Elle the electron, and Phil the Photon.
I pictured a blade of light attacking two tiny black spheres. “Eva, I’m the only
person in the room besides you.”
After their birth, The Quantum Tribe decided to study at the OmniVersity,
learning for almost 10 billion years. Paul the proton pursued a degree in transportation
and logistics, because DruPhoo never stopped moving. Nolan the neutron pursued a
philosophy degree, glorified in discussions of the excluded middle. And of course, Elle
the electron earned a PhD in Electrical Engineering.
And Phil, that bright star of mine, Phil is famous throughout the OmniVerse for
his artwork. Phil often dragged his siblings along on field trips. Out of the dark hydrogen
clouds Phil raced to pierce the Eye of God.
Time and again the Quantum Tribe learned the spiral supernova secret of quasars
and galaxies, magnetars and pulsars. They rode blue plasma waves and charged gases of
fire. Eventually the Quantum Tribe achieved the ability to replicate their bodies forever,
by fine-tuning their balance in gymnastic classes at Grandmother Eva’s house. Phil, Paul,
Nolan, and Elle will live forever. They created a balanced system of energy to spin in.
They exist in euphoria attraction. The Quantum Tribe lives the most wonderful dream.
Yet they could control everything but themselves. Tension came to the Quantum Tribe.
After ten billion years of watching Elle weave wondrous webs of dance, Paul
could no longer restrain his attraction for her. This wouldn’t be a problem, save for

6
Nolan’s intense passion for his favorite electric lady, Elle the electron. Then one day, an
opportunity arrived for Paul the proton.
Nolan turned green with a virus, and Elle took care of him for three days. Paul felt
abandoned by his true love, and his jealousy erupted as he burst into Nolan’s room. Paul
knew what he must do. He must create Hydro, by sacrificing their sibling separateness,
sticking with Elle for eternity.
Paul unsheathed his most powerful weapon, and rushed at his brother Nolan with
the long silver blade. In order to save Nolan's life, Elle jumped in front of Paul's
oncoming serrated steel. Without time to divert Paul’s charge, Elle took the brunt of
Paul’s overpowering positive silver strike. Paul impaled Nolan through Elle. All three of
them merged into a sphere pulsing with energy. Then they exploded into a fiery ocean.
HelioSol emerged from this a Quantum Tribe trans-fusion of Hydro and Paul into Helio
in Sol. I named him HelioSol, our power guy.
At once HelioSol emanated Phonergy from his spherical center, taking charge of
Eva’s stage. HelioSol gave thanks to his mother Eva for her masterful SET on which to
perform. Back then Eva made a living from stage management. HelioSol was obsessed
with glorifying his mother Eva, so he worked ferociously to release into the solar system
38,270,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 Phonergic Watts of power.
HelioSol continuously fuses Hydro and Paul into Helio, showering Earth with
175,000,000,000,000,000 Joules
Per Second, known to this OmniScientist as Watts.
Our friend HelioSol was one mediocre star in infinity. He screwed up quickly,
scorching Mercury in his fiery passion, strangling him in his light gravity waves.

7
HelioSol doomed life in the boiling sulfur clouds of Venus. He longed for a companion to
trust forever. The single stellar life isn’t exciting in our quiet Milky Way suburb.
HelioSol burped, arching an arm of orange plasma into space. To move up in the
HelioSolian social system requires the same as the techno-sapien scene- creativity,
networking, and persistence. HelioSol calmed his core, concentrating on pleasing Eva, as
the black Shadow master balanced his orbit through the Milky Way Galaxy.
HelioSol worshipped the rotation of the black master, imitating Him with dark
sunspots. HelioSol felt insignificant compared to the Shadow master, and developed a bit
of social anxiety. He consulted Dr. Emi Sirius, who gave him this advice: Son, I have
never seen a heart as strong as yours. I feel an absence strung through your being. You
need comfort and companionship.
HelioSol surveyed the nearby stars, all different colors of brightness. He decided
against merging with them. He needed something different. He needed something
receptive, enticing, and potentially infinite. HelioSol desired to nourish his lover until his
fusion stopped. He wanted to forget for a few years about the shadow master plucking his
superstrings.
HelioSol awoke from a strange sleep, coursing with waves of electric energy. He
sensed the approach of a new companion- a new galactic friend! He increased the hydro-
fusion in his core, to prepare for all the energy required to date on OmniVersity campus.
Though the Power of his gravity, HelioSol formed his ideal mate.
One hundred million lifetimes ago, or 4.5 Billion Years Ago, HelioSol sent Phil to
meet Nolan, Paul, and Elle to welcome Gaia into Eva’s Family. The Quantum Tribe
were unimpressed with Gaia. Paul described Gaia, “A sweet orbit will save that barren

8
hot ball. HelioSol is only a boring middle class star- he needs a reliable wife like Gaia to
provide for. We’ll see how she responds to his light.”
After countless aeons in the Omnether, Gaia took shape, basking in the nectar of
her enlightening lover. HelioSol had never been happier, spending all of his time
warming his favorite baby at the OmniNature Reserve. Slowly he watched Her surface
cooled. HelioSol did not worry. He knew great fire stayed deep down at the core of Her
being. Gaia slept every night safe in his warm blanket of protection.
Then one day, Gaia awoke with a start. She knew she would feel pain for the first
time today.” Gaia faced the dark expanse as brave as ever, anticipating destruction.
Before Sol’s Phonergy could intercept Ophera, the interstellar attacker delivered a
glancing blow, ripping off precious tissue strips from Gaia’s body. Terrified and
distraught, HelioSol reached out with all his radiant Phonergy. He preserved the floating
shreds of Gaia’s flesh, into a silver widow named Luna.
For ten thousand eons, HelioSol’s focused only on healing Gaia and building her
sister Luna. Nothing else mattered to him in the entire Omniverse.
HelioSol’s heart gave him great leverage over his solar system. He finally allowed
a smile when Gaia batted a blue-green lash and giggles flowered from her body.
Luna remained barren and still, content to reflect HelioSol’s greatness and serve as
Gaia’s protector.

9
A million white holes cannot describe my joy to witness our little family
synchronize in balanced equilibrium: HelioSol, Gaia, and Luna. This Solar Trinity frames
our destinies emerging.
Luna, HelioSol, and Gaia grew up watching famous Holo-Vi-Deo productions of
the Quantum Tribe. They resolved to create a new act, one never been done in the history
of the OmniVerse.
What could they do to distinguish our Solar system? They studied the most
famous performers in SpaceEnergyTime: the black holes, supernovas, galaxies, stars,
magnetars, quasars, and even white holes. All borrow from the OmniCapitalist, Eva
herself. The Solar Trinity needed a different strategy to gain fame and status. They sought
a balance between raw power and intricate love.
Puzzling over their next step, a tiny comet named Ishtao entered the house of
HelioSol, ricocheting through his gravity field to smash straight into Gaia’s heart.
Gaia awakened with a jolt, “What was that?”
Gaia examined the smoldering remains of Ishtao, now glowing on Gaia’s surface.
Magnifying her vision, she marveled at the tiny DruPhoo structures, which crystallized in
Gaia’s air. These spiral structures were works of the Quantum Tribe, concentric layers of
colored crystals. The comet encapsulated good information. What could she learn from
its colors?
As the day progressed, she pushed lava out her pores. Gaia focused on her
memory of the comet’s crystal cargo. Some time told Gaia not to forget about the
intricate enticing beauty of the angel’s fiery remnants.

10
Eva’s voice echoed in Gaia’s dreams. To fulfill our destiny, we strive to create
balanced networks of integrated layer motion. We will OmniSelf-Personify our
intelligent tales. Our intelligence is not limited by yoctometer or yottogram scale. It is
limited by the stories we choose.
Through HelioSol’s Phonergy, Luna’s friendship, and my OmniSelfish womb, we
shall create Life. Life shall reflect its ancestry from the icy angel Ishtao, attracted by
HelioSol, and symbolized by Venus, my smelly brother.
Eva licked her lips, pausing to gulp lemon water.
Dr. Spoey locked her eyes, “Excuse me, Eva. I have a question.”
“One from all that information? I’m thinking four things right now.” Eva looked
disappointed.
“Eva, our words allow one at a time. No wonder your mind is so blurry. My
question concerns your OmniVerse?
“That my dear boy, is what I shall show you- by introducing you to my favorite
people in Ohio.”

11
Chapter 1
Seamless Dreams of MPDeity
“Will this day ever end?” I lamented spending this beautiful Friday afternoon
cooped up in my suburban psychiatric practice, near the 270 loop of Columbus, Ohio.
“Stop it!” I told myself. “You love helping people through their troubles. Ignore
your mind’s restless complaints. Clear your mind and breathe to the base of your tummy.
In just an hour I’ll be reclining in my Lazy Man recliner, experiencing the miracle of
comfort. I wonder if Melinda is going to show up. She’s almost 20 minutes late”
As if on cue, the intercom crackled and Mary’s voice announced, “Dr. Spoey,
your 4 o’ clock has arrived.”
“Send her in.” The curiosity of any new patient surged through my being. A tall
blonde woman walked nervously through the doorway. I disguised my immediate
attraction with the psychiatrist bit.
“I’m guessing you are Melinda. Good to meet you. Please take a seat. ”
“Yes, yes, yes… It’s good to meet you, Doctor Spoey. I’m sorry I’m late. My ride
drives too slow for me.” Melinda sighed, slouching into the green leather chair. She
threw furtive glances at the laser clock reading 4:21 PM in red.
I smiled broadly, “Please, Melinda, call me David. To their ears, a person’s name
is the holiest sound. And don’t worry about being late. It’s been a long day. I was
enjoying the momentary break of silence, watching the squirrels, busy with acorns
outside. Are you glad it’s Friday?” Her beauty made me nervous like no patient before,

12
and she had just entered the room. Melinda had called yesterday, scheduling a late
appointment. I hid my sweaty palms under my mahogany desk.
“I’ve had a long day as well- class, volleyball practice, drinking vanilla lattes, and
carrying heavy packages of dead tree layers across OSU campus.” Melinda’s speech
patterns were jagged and tense. I could feel her anxiety through the air.
“That’s my alma mater! I am a proud Buckeye. To this day I live within walking
distance of the historic Shoe.
“I love the place. I’m finishing my third year in the Strategic Communications
program at the Fisher Business School. I have started on the volleyball team since
freshman year. The volleyball scholarship worked out well, being so close to my home in
Cleveland, and not having to pay tuition.”
“Well it sounds like you are a busy Buckeye. With all the volleyball and
studying, you must not have much social time.” Staring into her green shaded iris rings, I
remembered my long nights at The Science and Engineering Library, studying Organic
Chemistry (O’ Chem), a notorious weed-out class for medical school
“I don’t really need much sleep, so I make lots of time for my friends. My friends
and family are more important than volleyball or school.” Melinda fiddled her with her
light blonde hair, which looked surprisingly natural, without any roots.
“It appears you have your goals figured out pretty well for an undergraduate. How
much sleep you get on an average night?”
“Weekend or weekday?”
“Both.”
“Umm, I’d say about 6 hours on weekends and like two hours on weekdays.”

13
I assumed she was exaggerating. People with sleep issues tend to underestimate
the actual sleep they get. Many go into micro-sleeps while sitting straight up. Our brain
waves get slower and repair begins. Our brain preserves our brain during dreams, as a
screen saver sustains the display, preserving needed networks and destroying weak ones,
as we become slightly conscious of an entire unconscious dreamscape. After dreaming
during REM sleep, the brain goes into local mode, in which active neural connections fall
silent. We call this deep wave (delta) sleep. Snap out of this you nerd. David, Say
Something to her!
“Two hours! Aren’t you tired in class and practice?”
“Oh no,” she laughed. “…Almost never. Coffee helps if I ever need it. I have to
keep up my 4.0 GPA.” One could understand, in this inverted world, how a beautiful
motivated girl would expect a legal drug to enhance her ability to succeed- all her social
influence encourage enthusiasm, energy, pseudo-arrogance, spunkiness. I hoped caffeine
was the only drug she abused.
Still I assumed she was exaggerating. “So you have a perfect grade point average,
have lots of friends, start on a Division 1 volleyball team, and you can do this without
almost any sleep? Do you ever feel overstressed?”
“I’ve always been taught there is no replacement for hard work. I can hardly fall
asleep to begin with, I get many things done while others fearfully imitate death.”
“You mean sleep?”
“Yea, my mother and I both have trouble sleeping. She’s never been to a
psychiatrist. She says we have insomniac genes. Instead of sitting in bed trying every

14
possible way to fall asleep, we just sit in our comfy chairs and talk until we pass out, or
Sol returns. Life is too short to spent fraternizing with the void.”
“That is very interesting. Have you ever seen a doctor for sleep issues?”
“No.” Melinda smiled warmly at me. I could feel my ear-tips blush.
“Is that why you are here today?” Sleep problems are usually treated with a
GABA agonist, some sort of depressant medicine like Ambien or Xanax- even red wine
or a cheesy turkey sandwich full of tryptophan should do the trick. I couldn’t imagine
having a problem sleeping. Sleep was a complete refuge from this mixed up world.
“Kind of. See last night I managed to fall asleep around 4:15 AM, after a long
night of barhopping. The after-effects of alcohol actually make me drowsy. Anyways,
something happened last night that hadn’t happened in years- I had a dream.”
“Do you remember it?” My self experienced epic expansive dreams each night,
pulsing with infinite landscapes, magnificent buildings, and endless conflict.
“I don’t know how well I can describe it in words.” Melinda seemed to recess
back into her mind to retrieve the memory of her dream, her conscious display freezing
like the rotator on a computer screen.
“I completely understand. In the morning, after my dreams, I can only piece
together patches of my dreams.” Usually towards the end, my consciousness activated,
and I was lucid in my self-created world. I awoke with a fading slideshow in my mind. If
I didn’t write down my dreams, I would not remember any of them. Little in real life
could compare to my bizarre dreams.
“Well I feel more that the dream seemed unlimited. My normal waking self
actually experienced the entire dream. I’m visualizing it right now.”

15
“That sounds much like a lucid dream. Has it ever happened before?”
“Once, as a toddler after my father was killed by a drunk driver.” Melinda said
with a blank face.
“My God, Melinda, I am so sorry to hear that.”
“It’s alright. He never left my mind. He is a constant inspiration to my life. He is
happy.”
“He must be very proud of such a prodigious lady as yourself.” It would be
madness to assail Melinda’s protective confidence. Her mental wall allowed her to
withstand her primal fears.
“He is.” We both paused for a second, matching eye gazes. Stop it Spoey, you
aren’t supposed to eye stick your patient! Say something!
“So can you tell me about your dream?”
“I’ll try my best.” Melinda closed her eyes and slumped an inch more into the
chair.
“I see a dark landscape filled with explosions. There is raging violence all
around me, but I am unharmed by all projectiles. I think I had popped between a free-
for-all war between armies of the East and West. My friend’s bodies are replaced with a
constant succession of familiar faces. I feel unlimited, powerful, and full of potential.
My father speaks from the blue sky, telling me I cannot change the world. He says I must
change myself. My friends are all spitting beer back into their mugs. I take off flying with
my wings. Below There are vibrant hues of light so beautiful I cannot even describe,
emanating from the canyons in the ground. Everything is alive and moving. The trees
discuss metaphysics with HelioSol, and my dog Buster swirls a glass of Chardonnay near

16
a broken fence post. With their voices from heaven, in rhythmic tones, they ruminate the
mystery of existence. Suddenly the entire landscape enfolds onto itself and belches out a
fiery spinning ball of light. The light swallows me. I become part of this light sphere, but
my body becomes a zephyr of light in this glimmering ball. I don’t know how to explain
it. This light holds all things and no thing. It knows all and nothing. It is the source of all
but words cannot capture its essence. I osculate the light’s oscillations. I step back my
view expands into an infinite dimension- the light became divine nectar sprinkled with
tiny spiral children. The ball had disappeared but its seeds were everywhere. I
encountered a tiny old lady, her kind face wrinkled from smiling. I knew it was my
grandma Eva. Without speaking, she said to me, I am proud to be you. Before I could
consider her mysterious telepathy, the light sucked me in. I whirled clockwise into a dark
eddy. I blinked, for my body now rested on moist scarlet moss with grey speckles, now
surrounded by humungous blades of grass swaying in the wind. I coughed up a bit of my
blonde hair. Seeing an avian companion, I chirped and whistled my legs to the tune of
my mind, to which my new friend chirped a reply. Suddenly I felt a brush of wind and a
huge mass began to descend upon my grassy area. I hopped quickly out of danger and
onto an immense hairy quadruped, galloping above the grass. I climbed secretly to the
top of its head, and melted into its hair, merging with my mind. A rushing sound rocketed
my mind back into my human Mody. I sensed new surroundings. Now in the middle of
the Omni State Oval, I stared at the historic dome of the main library. In that moment,
God generated my Mody (mind+body). I knew I did nothing but enjoyed the ride. He was
all this. I just surfed God’s wave. I rode our bike, the cool breeze whistling through my
hair, soaking in the late afternoon sunlight. I turned left onto 15th
street from 4th
street,

17
spotting the proud Lincoln/Morrill Twin towers on the horizon. Past the old Neil
mansion, I rode the Underground Trail to the Mirror Lake fountain. I watched the water
chaotically curve an intricate fabric, weaving itself into a twinkling pattern, reflecting the
light blue sky on the dynamic chemical flow. I knew then, that everything outside my
Mody was even more Godlike than myself. God contained all answers in one infinite
being of creation dynamically optimizing itself each instant. No Thing is Not God. And
we are proud of us.”
With that, Melinda opened her eyes and smiled warmly. I remained silent for a
minute, astonished at her dream account. However the uniqueness of her dream did not
surprise me as much as her recreation. She didn’t hesitate once- the whole tale came out
in a coherent channel. It seemed she experienced it again while describing. The
pantheistic, All-is-God, is a common theme of manic states, as patients connecting their
eunoiac OmniSelves into the universal divine web. But her pantheism required no
justification or equivocation- she just knew everything was holy. Okay, I better say
something…
I spoke, “Melinda, you have quite a mind. I must say I am greatly intrigued by
your dream.” Sheepishly I laughed at her magnetic attraction. I hope I was still disguising
it from her. Never before had I felt such passion for any patient- and Melinda had only
been in the room for 20 minutes.
“Well I must say the dream is even better in person. I finally learned the secret to
existence- God is everything! You are God! I am God! This chair is God!!” Melinda
jumped out of her chair and started pacing around, examining my book collection, family
pictures, and diplomas. I sat there perplexed at her newfound hyper-motion. Most

18
patients will at least stay in one place. Oh Jesus, how am I going to defuse this bomb of
mine?
I got out of my lazy chair and approached Melinda, “You know, your dream had
quite an interesting viewpoint. You should read some stuff by Baruch Spinoza. He
believed the OmniSource sustains one substance: everything.
“Yeah but Spino’s already been flushed into God’s toilet. We are young and alive
in the eternal present, here and NOW!” Melinda yelled the last word and walked around
my mahogany desk up to my chair. She pushed my reading lamp off the table. The
halogen bulb shattered on my green carpet and sparked a toxic flame. I grabbed the fire
extinguisher, pulled the ring, and squeezed the lever. I dropped the fire extinguisher and
glared at Melinda, pleasantly stimulated by her sudden violent outburst.
Melinda smiled voraciously at me, stood up to my eye level, and flared her
nostrils.
I leaned over and shouted into the intercom, “Mary, I told you we needed LEDs!”
Then I realized I had no clue what had happened in the last 10 minutes. I knew I
had lost control over the situation. Wake up, David! This is your patient, not an electric
vixen, biting her lip, gazing into your portals.
Melinda pushed her lips onto mine, sending bolts of ecstasy spiraling to my toes.
My ear-tips sizzled. She pulled away, defiantly flicked her tongue, and skipped
mischievously out of my office. I was stunned into shock. Not ten seconds later I saw her
blue jeans disappear, as she climbed into her ultra American green SUV. It zoomed out of
our winding driveway. I didn’t even find out why she came, or even prescribe her
Ambien! I think she reversed the roles of patient and physician. My heart pounded

19
against my chest. Jady, my inner child, cried at her absence. Melinda had hypnotized
him. The whole thing happened so fast I lost myself in passionate desire for Melinda. I
tried to process the shocking encounter. Not until after dinner did I recover my rational
self, fighting my inner child’s demands to search out and find Melinda, Rocking in my
recliner, I finally quieted Jady, reassuring him that Melinda would return. The best things
repeat in this cyclical life of mine. Melinda couldn’t just leave me forever, after an
entrance like that! Could She?

20
Chapter 2
Passionate Violence
“Good day, David.” Mary greeted me the same each morning- with a sweet smile and a
piping hot mug of coffee cream and sugar. Mary was an old friend of my father, who
loved to work. She ran the nuts and bolts of my psychiatric practice.
“Hello Mary, good weekend?”
“Fantastic! Bob and I spontaneously drove to West Virginia for some white water
rafting!” Mary loved vigorous activity even though she was over 65 years old. I hoped
my body functions as well at that age.
“I haven’t been in rafting years.” Spoey, don’t ask about Melinda! “Say, have you
heard from Melinda? She left so quickly last Friday I didn’t get the time for a concluding
report.” Cognitive dissonance is a funny thing. I discarded four thoughts bubbling up in
that second.
“Funny you say that.” Mary looked down at the schedule. Oh no, I hope Melinda
didn’t tell her what happened! This could get ugly.
“Melinda is actually scheduled for an appointment today at 9 AM. She called
early this morning. Such a sweet lady that girl. I can’t imagine why she needs therapy.”
Boy was I glad she did! Let’s see, its 8:30 AM now. I have thirty minutes to
gather myself before she comes. I went to the restroom, tousled my brown hair, and
squished some Listerine. Finally I asked Tom if I smelled alright. He sniffed the air:
“Not half bad, but I wouldn’t get that close.”

21
“Alright Tom, hit me with your best shot!” Tom sprinkled me with a bit of
cologne,
“What was that?”
“Maniac by Army”
“Okay, cool. Thanks.” Oh great, just what I need to smell like. If Melinda turned
manic without cologne, hopefully maniac Melinda wouldn’t eat my ear-tips. I tipped Tom
with paper of Abe and ventured to my office.
The clock ticked very slowly until it reached 9 AM. No sign of Melinda. Then
9:10, where was she? Maybe she was stuck in rush hour traffic fleeing the city. On cue,
a powerful crash startled me from the parking lot. I twirled open the blinds. Sure enough,
Melinda’s green SUV had wrapped around the only tree in the parking lot- hopefully she
wasn’t drunk. She hopped merrily out of the totaled vehicle, like she had just won the
lottery. This should be interesting. Starting to dial the police I hesitated- I’ll just wait
until after her appointment, doctor-patient privacy what?
Mary’s voice preceded Melinda’s entrance. I forgot about her ridiculous crash.
She wore a white tank exposing her curvy bosom surrounding her green crescent
necklace. Her lips were flushed dark red, pursed in a subtle yet defiant grin. Looking
down I noticed her leather skirt revealed her powerful athletic legs, pulsing with smooth
muscle from endless exercise. A few papers poked from the pale green Prana purse
hanging on her right arm.
“Like what you see, Dr. Spoey?”

22
Melinda held her hips and leaned back arrogantly, her neck taunting his mouth.
This girl was unbelievable. She caught me staring as soon as she walked in. Get a handle
on yourself, doctor!
“Hi Melinda. I didn’t expect to see you so soon. I feel as if I didn’t get the chance
to finish our session or prescribe you some medicine for your sleepi-“
“I don’t need any mind-numbers. I need you!” Melinda interrupted me as she sat
down in the patient chair.
“What do you mean you need me?” Do not gesture toward her. Do not lock eyes.
What was her power over my mind?
Melinda leaned close over the desk. In a strange raspy voice, she said, “I need
you to cook in my spicy stew. Ooh…Dr. Spoey, I know you want to be a part of my spicy
stew.”
Interrupting my lust with shrink thoughts for a second, I jotted a pre-dia-gnosis of
Melinda- mania with the symptoms of multiple personality disorder (MPD). Melinda’s
spirit created her own reality second by second, inside her Mody (mind + body).
Melinda sprung out of the chair and leaped onto the ground next to my bookcase.
She started bawling. “Daddy, I want my daddy! Mommy, where’s daddy? Did you take
him from me?”
In the past minute, I observed that Melinda had changed personalities three times.
I decided to bring her back to the true Melinda.
“Melinda, come back to me. You are all right. You are safe. Your Dad is proud
of you.” This triggered another change of personality. She seemed to waver in between
two forms, before sinking into the gentle Melinda I first met.

23
“Come sit in your chair, Melinda. What do you have in your bag?”
“Actually, that is what I came to talk about.”
“Of course. Can you show me some of your notes? Are they notes for school?”
“Ha!! You are silly! Of course they are not notes from school. These are my
dream notes. You see I dreamed each night this weekend: Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.
God used my Mody to write down part of his mind. We had a great time.”
David interjected, “Wait, I thought you said everything was God. If that is true,
how could God use your body, if he is your body?”
Melinda scoffed at my doubt. “You are quite good at criticizing, Dr. Spoey. But I
have here a creative construction of the utmost importance, and I’m going to share it with
the world tonight!”
No longer did her random shocking assertions catch me off guard. “That is
awesome, Melinda. I’m interested in what you wrote.”
“I can’t show you unless you promise to help me spread our thoughts to the
world.” What else could I say but yes?
“I can’t promise you the world will listen. People keep busy getting through each
day. Life is a mysterious struggle to swim socially.”
“Shake my hand, and promise you will help me.”
Melinda came around the desk and stuck her hand out. I shook it warmly, and felt
a tight squeeze in return. Boy this girl was something else!
“MMM, you smell good. Wait I recognize that scent, its M...”

24
The last word drowned in a pool of ferocious attack. Melinda knocked me down
and tried to rip off my shirt, kissing all over my face and neck. I had absolutely no time
to react. Melinda’s personality transition was greased lightning.
I reacted quickly, “Daddy is proud of you, Melinda.” She instantly switched,
picking herself up and running across the room. I thought she would crash into the
bookcase, but she instead took a running jump through a small stained glass window.
I smiled. Good thing we’re on the first floor.
Looking through the broken shards of stained glass, I saw a green Corvette pull
up, which Melinda jumped in. The Corvette sped off past Melinda’s tree-wrapped SUV,
releasing three sustained honks of joyful mirth.
Finally Mary rushed into the room and typed in the fire code, shutting off the
window alarm. “David, what on Earth just happened to that girl? I heard a loud boom
outside and then 2 minutes later there was all sorts of commotion from your
office…David, is that lipstick on your face. Snap out of it! It’s all over! Can you please
tell me what is going on?”
“I have never been so unprepared in my life. This girl is manic, switches
personalities at will, attacked me passionately and kissed all over my face, jumped out of
the window, and sped off in a green Corvette which was apparently waiting for her.”
Mary just laughed, “Quite an exciting session. Why don’t clean off your love
marks while I call the police.”

25
Chapter 3
Man’s Strange is Heaven’s Sense
After cleaning my face, sweeping up the broken glass, and speaking with two
skeptical policemen concerning the crash, I fell back into my soft chair, exhausted after
only an hour of work. Who knew psychiatry could be so stressful? Maybe I was the one
who needed therapy. After all, I almost gave in to the crazed rantings of a manic
Buckeye. Didn’t I learn how to control myself through umpteen years of schooling?
Doesn’t the M.D. following my name certify I am an authority on psychological health?
Yet my own mind sabotages my reason. My whining inner child still begged for
Melinda, ignoring her madness, sinking into the basin of her strange attraction, recalling
only her dynamic nonlinear progressions. I contemplated taking Valium to calm my
nerves. No you don’t need that! Calm down Spoey, the ordeal is over. Melinda is crazy,
and you couldn’t help the situation.
I collected myself, and decided this had been the wildest day of my life. In ten
minutes Melinda had crashed her SUV, walked in like a model, asked if she could cook
me in her spicy stew, threw a catatonic crying fit on my floor, sexually assaulted my face,
jumped through my stained glass windows, and sped off in a getaway Corvette. She was
either patently insane or an actress in the OmniReality Show. I was glad Melinda came, I
decided, but I am also glad she’s gone. She isn’t my patient anymore. I think she even
gave Mary a fake last name- Verde. I surmise no payment shall be forthcoming from Ms.
Verde, although she gave me enough excitement to last a month.

26
I decided to cancel my appointments and return home. Mary understood and
graciously disentangled the rest of my Monday. I wasn’t ready to converse, basically the
only requirement of a psychiatrist. At least a grimy old lady didn’t attack me. Think of
how good of a story this is. Your friends will laugh their donkeys off. Shut up, Jady!
I really need to lock up my inner child at home.
I got up from my chair and walked towards the door. I felt a tiny bug on my right
nostril edge. I wanted to itch the area profusely, with my power tools. I opened to eyes to
see the black whiskers of Verdel, my beautiful pup, half miniature pinscher and half
Manchester terrier. Then a strange tingle swept through my nostril to the core of my
being.
MANIA! Tumbling images of light balls and lush loving lips shattered my fragile
calmind; too much to handle- thrusting curvy God of mania melting into grasshoppers;
my muscles gave way and I fell to the floor and hit my head on a metal vent, temporarily
losing consciousness.
Brrrrring, Brrrrring. Brrrrring. Brrr- I awoke with a jolt.
Where am I? Brrrrrring. My cell phone is ringing. Brrr… “Hello?”
“Hi David!” It was a male voice.
“Who is this?” I was in no mood for friendly talk. My head pounded with a
migraine.
“This is News Channel 5. The Police gave us details of a mental patient escape
from your compound. Can you confirm our sources?”
“I don’t have a compound- I run a outpatient practice. Now if you will excuse
me, I am going home to rest.”

27
A loud screech halted my pressing the End button. “Daaaavid!” It was NOT male.
“Who is this really?” Maybe my day’s excitement hadn’t ended yet.
“Your lips taste like FIRE!”
No, it couldn’t be…MELINDA!!
“How did you get this number? No one has this number except my family and
friends!”
“Eva the OmniCapitalist told me.”
“Of course. Well God tells you to calm down and stop attacking me. If Jady
didn’t have a thing for you, I’d file assault and property destruction charges.”
“Who’s Jady?”
“Never mind!”
“But David, I was just having fun.”
“Well your fun came at my expense.”
“I sorry. It won’t happen again. I just needed to know for sure David Spoey is
willing to promote Eva’s plan. Eva is the OmniCapitalist, on which all existence
capitalizes for existence.”
“I’m not willing Melinda, and I really have to go. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t
call me anymore.”
I flipped the phone shut and ran out the door. I needed to get out of my office
before I went insane.
I made it halfway to my car when: Brrrring. Brrrrring. Brrrring. I’ll answer one
more time and act like the authority this time.
“What do you want Melinda?”

28
“David, we are destined to bond in spirit, mind, and body. In order for us to
connect, you must fulfill your promise to help me spread God’s plan to the world.”
“Look, I promised you that before you assaulted me and jumped out my window.
The deal is off!”
“Promise-breaker!!”
I cut her off and closed the phone. A sudden revulsion swept over my head. I
saw myself chucking my cell phone into the murky green office lake. It splashed near the
grasshopper fountain. My mind became blank.
I entered the onramp for 71 North. I got into the fast lane on the left. I wanted to
be in my recliner ASAP, and let my worries melt into Tivo. One exit away from Polaris,
in my rearview mirror I saw a green blur weaving in and out of traffic, racing closer and
closer. It was a Corvette! I must be hallucinating! The Corvette pulled parallel to me
and lowered its window.
Thank God! I saw gust one guy in the driver seat, a bald shirtless punk with 5
visible tattoos and blaring 50 Cent. Concentrate on the road, David. You are losing
control. You don’t know that guy. Focus straight ahead.
“Hello God!” The man screamed over the din of the cars.
He’s not talking to you. He’s not talking to you.
I looked over again. Melinda popped up in the Corvette’s passenger seat, waving
her arms frantically and screaming, “Pull over David.”
I ignored her and floored the pedal. My faithful Corolla had nothing on the
Corvette. It pulled parallel at about 95 mph. Melinda blew me a kiss and waved as they
zoomed past my car. The green Corvette became a green blur as it took a sharp turn

29
across an opening in the median. It shot past me the other way, going south toward the
city.
I floored the pedal, needing to escape my stunning patient.
“Woop wooop!” I pulled over. Stupid Spoey! I steadied my racing mind to talk to
the police officer.
“Officer, didn’t you see the green Corvette going over 100 mph? It just shot
across the median.”
“Aren’t you a psychiatrist?” I realized I was talking to one of the cops just who
took my report about Melinda’s scene at the office this morning.
“Yes, sir. I believe we met earlier today.” I said.
“I know, you smart-aleck shrink. I’m not stupid.”
“The Corvette was harassing me.”
“Uh huh. Sometime fishy is going on with you, Mr. Spoey.”
“Doctor Spoey, please.”
“Don’t talk back to me boy, I’m twice your age and I don’t like being lied to. Sit
tight while I write you a ticket.”
“But officer, the green Corv-“
“You may tell the judge why you were going 100.”
Grumbling madly under my breath, I almost exploded, waiting in my driver’s seat
for twenty minutes to grab my ticket. I could see the cop and his partner laughing and
pointing in my direction. Resisting the urge to do anything stupid, I took the ticket and
made it home into my chair. I slouched to 130 degrees, which a recent study showed was

30
much better for your posture than vertical sitting. I laughed about the silliness of the
day’s events.
I removed the bulge under the pillow, which turned into a remote control,
switching on the local news channel: “This is Tony Sanchez on Phox News, live on
Broad Street covering the unfolding situation at the Statehouse. Apparently, a psychotic
carerrorist has penetrated the governor’s wing, armed with an array of hair trigger
explosives. Negotiators are currently, um, negotiating with the terrorist, reportedly an
delicious American female.”
No, it couldn’t be. No Phing way. Not again.
“Let’s see if we can get a video on the situation.”
The station switched to a camera inside a room in the Statehouse, where Melinda
stood stationary in the middle of frantic motion, intensely grinning like a kid on
Christmas.
Nancy grinned warmly, “What are her demands, Tony?”
“She claims to have in her purse the typed will of Eva the OmniCapitalist-
dictated to her in four successive dreams. She repeats her only demand- Dr. David Spoey,
her psychiatrist, to help spread the will of the OmniCapitalist throughout the world.”
The co-anchor Nancy fluttered her eyelashes: “Tony, does she realize it is evil to
claim that the great God justifies carerrorism?”
Tony scowled “We have repeatedly stressed this to her. She will not respond to
anyone but Governor Daft.”
I watched myself hurl the remote at the television, shattering its display into a
million crystals.

31
“This is the most realistically disturbing dream I’ve ever had,” I thought- much
more realistic than Melinda’s pantheistic dream.
Riiiing. Riiiing. Riiiing. House Phone. Before it could ring again, I shattered the
wall jack with his fist, effectively ending the phone attack.
I had little time for peace before the cultural vultures knocked down his door for
the pretty carerrorist. I went upstairs and passed out in his waterbed. Returning to the
peace of sleep cured all worries. If death is the cousin of sleep, I can’t wait for my
funeral.”

32
Chapter 4
Divine Momentum
“BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.”
“Dr. Spoey, are you in there? The governor needs your help.”
“Governor Daft and manic Melinda may suck an egg.”
“We’re breaking down the door David.”
“Please do not.”
The door shattered and three SWAT members bust in with automatic weapons
drawn, followed by a dark skinned detective.
“Dr. Spoey, your presence is required as a matter of national security. Your
refusal to come with us futile, and will only result in a prison term.”
Never one to disobey those with guns; I walked with the men and climbed into
their black minivan. We stopped downtown at the Statehouse on Broad Street. I walked
straight into the front room, where the news image duplicated itself in reality. Melinda
beamed with gratitude at my entrance, running over to sit Indian style at my feet. I could
not yet look at her, furious at her for disturbing his peace of mind.
Governor Daft walked to my side, opposite to Melinda. “Thank you for coming,
David. This is a delicate matter considering Melinda’s mental health. We are willing to
submit to her reasonable demands in order to prevent tragedy. We hope you can help us
through this.”
David, try to remember this man deserves your respect. “I’ll do my best. What
exactly does she want?”

33
“Melinda wants to broadcast God’s will live on television nationwide. She
believes she can save the world with her words. She thinks God is an OmniCapitalist
named Eva. I’m confused myself.” Governor Daft’s face looked painfully twisted.
Half sarcastically I mimicked, “Are you prepared to disrupt regularly scheduled
programming for something like this?”
“Well, we spoke to the advertisers and made clear our situation. It should only
cost the state $10 million to cover the lost advertising time. We cannot afford to lose the
Statehouse to carerrorism. It will show Ohio is ill prepared and insecure. The public
would rage that a blonde bombshell destroyed our state building. The rare stamp auction
has already damaged my chances for reelection.”
I cared more for raw liver than state politics. “Okay, so what do you need me
for?”
Governor Daft paused and whispered to his aide. “Melinda wants you to read
God’s Will live on cable.”
“No way.”
“David, please reconsider. The state is willing to reimburse you for your time,
and give you a huge gold plaque in this very room, provided it still stands tomorrow.”
David thought to himself. He realized he had little, if any choice. The guys with
guns were here again. Might as well go quietly, and hopefully stop this dream’s descent
into madness. I could be an international hero tomorrow when I wake up. I wish I had
Eva’s confidence about the OmniReason. I diagnosed myself with analysis paralysis.
“First of all, why me?”

34
“Melinda wants you to read it because God told her to have you read it. She said
you would do a better job of conveying the truth of God’s will.”
Great.
“Fine, I will read it, but only if I may speak freely before and afterwards to the
nation, so people know I am anti-carerrorism.”
“That’s fine with me. Okay Melinda?”
Melinda jumped to her feet. “Ooooh! David I love you! I knew you weren’t a
promise breaker. The broadcast must start at 4:20 PM, and shall end at 9:11 PM.”
“Whatever. Just let me reset my brain first.”
“Of course, Dr. Spoey. You should rest.” Melinda smiled gleefully, her carerrorist
plan working to the t. The Governor’s aides took me to a nearby room with a small cot,
which couldn’t compare to my waterbed. It did the trick. Out cold I went, with NO
dreams until three PM, when Melinda’s yelps shook me back to consciousness. I ran into
the front room. An assorted group of fifty people surrounded Melinda as she pranced
around the room in her explosive white suit, which at the moment seemed quite
insensitive, opposed to the hair trigger the news said she possessed. Melinda had
captivated this crowd with her OmniDynamic mood patterns, unbelievable physical
attractiveness, and contagious smile. I no longer pitied my willpower, as everyone else
seemed just as vulnerable to her wicked charms. I wondered just how many explosives
she wielded.
Taking a closer look at Melinda’s appearance, I saw explosives strapped to her
body in five places- ankles, thighs, and chest. She still carried her bulging green Prana

35
purse. The combination of destructive carerror and sex objects thrilled even the most
mundane American, myself included.
Now I wanted attention from this carerrorist vixen. I yelled out. “Melinda, is your
last name really Verde?”
Melinda stopped her show and skipped over to me. “Of course, Silly Spoey.
Why would I lie to my favorite person in the whole world?”
I couldn’t respond. I just nodded my head, took a deep breath and laughed.
Maybe that is the only thing I can do during this marvelously unnerving experience. As
one voluptuously manic mental patient puppets the entire Statehouse, I again confirm
Reality stranger than fiction.
A television crew burst in a back door and set up shop near a fireplace in the
spacious front room. The producer, a tall dark haired Italian, started firing off orders to
his minions. They placed two violet velvet chairs in front of the fireplace- one of
Melinda’s numerous demands. By the time they completed their preparation for
broadcasting, the grandfather clock struck 3:30 PM.
At that time the Governor had assembled an impromptu press conference on the
Statehouse steps. Everyone in the front room sat quiet while we listened to the
microphone amplify his words, watching Governor Daft on the front room television
brief the press on the situation. Throngs of reporters waited impatiently for their turn to
talk.
“Now I’m going to open up the floor for questions.” Governor Daft said.

36
Tony from Phox News here, “President Kush has repeatedly stated that the United
States does not negotiate with carerrorists. By broadcasting the green angel’s words over
the airwaves, aren’t you giving into her demands and encouraging further carerrorists?”
“The OmniState of Ohio feels the best way to mollify the situation is by
cooperating with her requests. The New York Times even printed the Unabomber’s
manifesto before he was brought to justice. Melinda has not hurt anyone yet. Make no
mistake- the green angel shall be brought to justice without any use of violence. Our
staff has deliberated our options. Considering her mental health, we do not think that is
prudent to employ violence.”
“Melinda’s only demand is that David Spoey read the manuscript containing the
channeled will of God. Please note that her psychiatrist- Dr. David Spoey- has diagnosed
her with Multiple Personality Disorder.” I didn’t remember telling anyone that- although
it was now painfully obvious. They must have called and asked Mary. Doctor-patient
privacy couldn’t compare with national security.
One of the reporters shouted, “What God does Melinda recognize? Does she
actually pretend know the truth?”
Governor Daft said, “Melinda believes everything is one God. She believes God
is an OmniCapitalist named Eva.”
This mysterious answer pumped the press. I grabbed the microphone and spoke,
“Melinda has metaphysical issues we will address at a later date. After today’s situation
is resolved, she will receive the finest care, so she may be cured of her carerrorist
disease.”

37
Thirty reporters raised their hands to ask the next question. Governor Daft
looked exhausted. He ignored them and continued, “The whole nation will see Melinda
soon enough. No need to give her any more attention than her chosen television time. At
a quarter after nine, she will receive her night of fame- and then we shall save herself
from her OmniSelf. She owes no allegiance to any known carerrorist groups like Al
Kayta. Melinda is a lone ranger, driven to violent means by mental instability. Now if
you will excuse me, I must prepare for the broadcast.”
A reporter from FOX news yelled above the commotion, “Governor Daft, the
nation wants to know more about the green angel of Columbus. The stations are
disrupting paid programming from 4 PM to 10 PM tonight- that’s an awful lot of
advertising revenue.”
The Governor returned to the microphone, “Honestly, I am convinced by a
strange passion in her eyes heart of hearts to give her a chance. Who knows, this just
might be the kick in the pants America needs.” Daft then disappeared from the screen
and came in to greet those in the front room.
“Okay people, I want everything tested and ready to go at 4 PM on the dot, so Dr.
Spoey can introduce himself before he reads Melinda’s OmniCapitalist Manifesto.”
Not in a million years did Governor Daft expect to be a part of such an insane
situation. But he didn’t want it to end in violence. Melinda was irrepressibly gorgeous.
I sat down in the green chair and checked my watch. It read 3:58 PM. Two
minutes until show time. I felt extremely calm considering my lack of television
experience. Presumably my previous encounters with Melinda had enhanced by stress
tolerance. Okay, time for some deep breaths.

38
The Italian producer yelled for quiet. “Dr. Spoey, you are on in five, four, three,
two, one, and ACTION!”
Melinda squealed with delight.
And so it began, “Hello to all those watching. I am Dr. David Spoey. I woke up
this morning expecting a normal day at my psychiatric office- now I am being
blackmailed into reading the dreams of my patient Melinda. I am certain this situation
will be resolved after her requests are met, and Melinda will get the help she needs. I
hope the audience does not associate myself with Melinda’s words- for she demanded I
read each and every word she has typed. You see, she believes Eva came to her in a
dream, using her hands to type his Will, which apparently sHeIaM wanted my voice box
to vibrate it to the world. It is true in today’s world you need either money or carerrorist
tragedy to capture media attention, but we should ask ourselves to withhold all judgment
until I read the full OmniCapitalist Manifesto, as she calls it, for she has not let anyone
read the papers- and there is always the outside chance that she really did talk to God.”
You didn’t just say that. Spoey, do you actually believe Melinda? Who was this girl?
“And now, before I read the prologue, Melinda wants to say a few words from the
heart.”
This should be interesting.
By now the tuned in world new of Melinda as the Green Angel for her green
velvet skirt, piercing green eyes, and jade crescent pendant hanging from her neck. If she
wasn’t headed straight to the asylum, she could have her own reality television show in
Celebmerica.

39
Melinda grabbed the microphone, “David Spoey may add his own comments, but
he must read each word as Willed by Eva through my fingers. I hope he does indeed
allow Eva to speak from his heart. I am not the original creator. I only rearrange, as I
must. I am only one holographic medium through which sHeIaM speaks. My writings are
titled “The OmniCapitalist Manifesto,” because Eva wants us to solve the world’s
problems through OmniPreneurship.
OmniJective business is the highest pursuit of human kind. Commerce is a
combination of objective scientific knowledge and subjective artistic skill. PsiArs
(Business) creates value for subjective experience through the potential of objective
knowledge. The only business is transport of InfoMassErgy, the DruPhoo stuff of which
the world is made. Our economy is getting the right thing at the right place and time. We
are spiritual techno-spirits, not materialistic techno-monkeys. We will save the world
through optimized transfer protocols (OPM). People know its all about logistics and
communication. In The OmniCapitalist, Eva mocks our tragic attempts at mastering the
plane of reality, and offers some suggestions. The first suggestion she offers: every path
of important transport should be secure and one-way. There should be no intersections of
people, bicycles, and steel trucks. The second suggestion she offers is Look Up, not
below. Know this, I am no prophet. I am a criminal carerrorist and I belong in jail. Yet
I’ve experienced too much pain not to speak out for OmniCapitalism.”
Know this, you are God, and so are all of you! Deep down you all know this, even
if you refuse to believe it. Read Psalms 82:6 if you are Christian. All you Sufis and
Kabala Wizards know that we are all children of the most High.”

40
Melinda then sat down in the green chair next to mine, smiling intently into the
television. I realized you couldn’t argue with her pantheism- if God contained
everything, then one couldn’t be outside of sHeIaM. Nothing is not God. Wait a minute,
Spoey, don’t buy this sludge.”
Melinda handed me her stapled stack of papers. It felt about forty pages thick. At
least it was double-spaced. I took a deep breath…

41
Chapter 5
Personifying Ourselves
“After I had described my lucid dream experiences each of the four nights, I
reflected on what I had learned, and formulated an introduction to capture the essence of
my experience- so that all of you carerrorist-haters don’t shoot me. I love America and its
freedoms. America will usher in the reign of amazing global InfoMassErgy transport
networks. This document really aims to blow your mind, to show you the secret
possibilities, and to shock you into authentic thought, to push you to your intellectual
limits. I do not mind going to prison for carerrorism, if it means lighting a thousand
hearts.” Eva spoke in esoteric tongues. I felt so strange reciting the words of Melinda the
ventriloquist.
Eva’s intention is simple. She uses me only to spread love through the flow of
good information through the global human brain, called the Globrain. The Gorganism-
the global human organism- develops as a fetus in Earth’s uterus. The Globrain is the
neural control system of the Gorganism, organizing InfoMassErgic flows. The
Gorganism is developing its vascular system to transport PIME. The Gorganism is
developing its immune system for secure PIME transport. The Gorganism grows
controlled by the Globrain. Through destroying the power of Theo-dictators, and
establishing a reign of beautiful transport, Eva decided to put an end to those people who
don’t believe in a personal God. Once the Gorganism has optimized its InfoMassErgy
networks, the Globrain will have the power to colonize the Moon and Mars. Then the
Gorganism will have reached Type 1 Civilization status on the Kardashev scale. You

42
might scoff. But Eva made all this, including your all-important self. Yet you don’t think
she tune in to tiny techno-sapiens? Open your Mind to find Her. Awake from your
Slumber to feel Her. Annihilate nothing blocking Truthful Love for Her.
The following text is intended to be simple, so that all may understand its
optimistic essence. We will not delve into divisive political, religious, or philosophical
debates. I will delegate deconstruction, criticism, and blame for another man. At this
point, constructive imagination saves us, not hate and fear. My purpose in this textual
carerrorism is to spread good information. The Internet marks the beginning of a true
global brain strengthening the superpower of the people. All is open to everyone with
education, motivation, and a shower. My duty is assist the integration of Earth’s
competing entities toward cooperative business ventures, to optimize transfer protocols
into the cosmos.
Today we will discover what Is, and what Could be. Hopefully, as you read or
hear these words in the presently eternal HERE and NOW, you are inspired with hope
and goodwill towards the future. Hopefully you begin to realize where the heart of your
sol lies: a chaotic, constrained, yet utterly free being of great potential. Eva is the
OmniOrder recreating our universal superstructure. Eva represents the moderate balance
between the two extremes of her nondual OmniContinua: 0/1; On/Off;
Positive/Negative; Good/Evil; Light/Dark; Hot/Cold; Love/Apathy; Hope/Insult,
Life/Death; Continuous/Discrete; Cause/Respect; Passion/Detachment; Wave/Particle;
Nature/Nurture; Science/Religion; Entopy/Extropy; Male/Female; Mind/Matter;
Self/Other. There are more dualities in the world than we can discuss. I’m sure you can

43
think of more continua. The important part is to realize each individual OmniSelf
contains the whole of each continuum: love to hate, hope to fear, male to female, etc. Our
free CHOICE is what we elect to manifest. Evil is a choice. Good is a choice. We are
free moral agents, hindered only by the chains of time.
The purpose of reality is value fulfillment- striving towards virtues: wisdom,
truth, meaning, purpose, confidence, justice, kindness, contentment, perseverance, trust,
focus, funny commercials, concentration, passion, creativity, humor, intelligence, beauty,
design, structure, happiness, consciousness, forgiveness, abundance, imagination, charity,
hope, probably, skipped, to, here, sincerity, generosity, and the power of love. By
enhancing virtue, one strikes at the root of evil, for evil only exists as the absence of
goodness- as coldness only exists as the lack of heat energy. Shine a light on a shadow
and it is no more. Yet it is not always enough to ignore evil. Sometimes you must stamp
out evil with fire or ice, but one’s method is the essence- stooping to fight on its level is
unwise. Do not play by the rules of evil, or you will get burned. Remember that the
ultimate nature of each baby brought into the world is good. Children have no worries
and want only to live happily. Corrosive culture creates feral children. Good societal
institutions produce aces of virtue.
.
Each human experiences existence through OmniSelf. We carry around the
physical universe on our shoulders, and worship our minds. As subjective agents of truth,
we cultivate interactive relationships inside our bodies and in our environmental SET, the
Egyptian god of darkness. Attempting to find the light of the horizon, we navigate

44
through the objective absolute world through our subjective relative experience. Our
subjective minds creatively hallucinate the objective world. Placebo ergo sum.
If you don’t want to see a Giant Sequoia, you may close you eyes, and it shall
disappear from your retinal screen. You might even pretend are alive, if it falls on your
roof, during a midnight storm. The world doesn’t turn into a crazy dream during sleep,
even though you experience lucid adventures in the unconscious ocean of epic slumber.
You can be sure the Earth is round, even though it might appear flat. You can be sure the
Earth orbits around the Sun, even though it might seem the opposite. You can be sure the
Sun is 93,000,000 miles away, even though it appears to touch the planes in the sky. It is
often in our interest to approach the absolute truth of objective existence with the relative
OmniSelf reality of subjective brain experience. This approach we shall call
Sobjectivism- pushing subjectivity toward the wall of objectivity, towards the faraway
goal of OmniJectivism. If there is anything history has taught, it has been that the illusion
of knowledge stands in the way of knowledge, and that the future laughs at the past era’s
insistence of arriving at the pinnacle of knowledge and accomplishment. Witness the
future’s mirth at the present’s pity of the more distant past. Pardon me, dear reader, for I
digress from simplicity.
Here are premises to assist your journey through our pursuit of Sobjectivism. I
promise they will make more sense as you advance toward the end.
One: All is One. Omnia ab uno. We are always connected to the One. sHeIaM is loving
benevolent energy pulsing creative potential. The only stability is good change.

45
Two: The universe is an infinite optimizing InfoMassErgy processing through self-
organizing oscillating potentials, evolving towards increasing power and intelligence.
Three: Each living being creates its own reality through personifying itself and The
Other on different levels, dimensions, scales, locations, and times. Reality consists of
Energetic Material and Intelligent Information flowing in a four-dimensional nature
(three space and one TIME). Capturing reality on a flat screen saps its authenticity, as
reality changes on at least four dimensions.
Five: Nothing is Not God. You cannot escape God. You might make a pseudo-vacuum of
evil inside God, but we can never attain absolute cold or ultimate hate. Love is merely the
absence of hate. Warmth is merely the absence of Cold. Light is merely the absence of
dark. Good is merely the absence of evil. We cannot destroy the universe, but it will
destroy us. Humans create evil after experiencing suffering and frustration. A thought-
form, evil has no force alone. It must rely on carriers for destruction. All is God is Good,
no matter what techno-sapiens might try.
Six: We live in an infinitely abundant universe. The OmniCapitalist smiles as we slowly
develop new ways to borrow more power from Eva’s OmniSource.
Seven: When you drop the pretenses, and realize our similarities on the most fundamental
levels, our physical and spiritual needs: InfoMassErgy for our bodies, clean air, pure
water, nutritious food, waste management, security shelter layers, SPORT, social love,
sleep, and social technology for our minds.
Finally, before we delve into what IS, and what SHOULD be, we must turn our
attention to the nature of language, this medium in which we think, speak, and write.

46
Words are ideas (memes) shared by people, connected into a logical framework by
grammar and syntax. We conquer the universe through metaphor. Yet words are
impotent if not followed by purposeful action. Written and spoken language are great
communication mediums, like artworks, body language, images, gifts, emails, blogs, web
sites, videos, photographs, hand signals, music, gardens, buildings, symbols, etc. You can
find truth in anything- songs, seas, essays, trees, gossip, the Bible/Koran/Torah, silence,
everything is true. It depends upon what you see, not what you look at. The termites stay
busy too. We live in an age of communication, of competing information levels.
Apparently my data is sticky enough for you to press on this far- I am eternally grateful
and hope you continue. I have hope that we will continue working together to bring good
information.
People reading OmniCapitalist Manifesto can help us refine its language so its
hope may reach even more people across the globe. I am only one person, just like you. I
am busy and stressed, just like you. The interactions of three hundred million busy
individuals comprise our American nation. Our Earth beholds heady 7,000,000,000
humans, alive and kicking- a world without strangers with their Universal Translators.
Everyone always told me; you will never change the world. Settle for a cushy CEO job
or become a doctor like your father. Well, I’m changing your world by writing this
sentence, you are changing your mind by thinking about changing the world. The fact is,
the only constant IS change. You cannot HELP changing yourself and the world. Not
everyone is called to be a hero. But everyone changes the world merely by existing.
Realizing the constancy of change may help you subtly overcome any obstacle in your
life- flowing with the current rather than drowning under the weight of your mental

47
chains. Learn to love your mind’s quirks, your passions, your eccentricity- be proud of
what sets you apart. If life is mostly froth and bubble, two things stand out: unyielding
kindness in another’s troubles and indomitable bravery toward your own.
Having read the first three introductory pages without pause, I stopped and gazed
into the camera. I motioned to the producer for a commercial break. I didn’t know how
many people I had spoken to- but I was sure the number was over a million. I’ll probably
be infamous when I wake up tomorrow, without doing anything. The Media will paint me
as a carerrorist supporter, even though I’d rather fill cavities than read Melinda’s
manuscript on television. Now I know how Paris Hilton feels! It isn’t so bad, and
fortunately Melinda’s writings were actually quite sane- although quite abstract and
wishy-washy. Her writings sounded like the typical ‘All is One’ theme. If she really
wanted to infect the world with her positive virus, she had to keep it simple, because her
message was blurred amidst her flowery language. No, the world is ultimately utilitarian.
People care about benefits to their loves. Value is measured in commodities and
distributed through specialized spectacles. Time is Money. Poets and artists are poor until
they die, dying to create something new. Then time-binding businessmen buy their
timeless works. The rich shall be rich and the poor shall be poor- that is as old as
stratified society. We must spend no time lamenting a fact of life. We shall live and die
with our leaders. Money is a form of social memory. Money remembers and leverages
space, energy, time, and work.
I took a drink of white grape juice. My mouth loved its sweet moisture blanket.
A thought flickered through my mind. Maybe I should use this carerrorist scum to
propose Spodeas. After all, Melinda did say I could talk as long as I also read her words

48
verbatim. Let me wait until I finish reading- I want to find out what she says and get it
over with so I may return to the refuge of sleep.
“You ready, Dr. Spoey?”
“Now I am.”
“Alright, three, two, one, and ACTION!”
I turned the page and began reading.
“A wise man once said, ‘Use what is dominant in a culture to change it most
quickly.’ I employ television’s dominance for Eva’s carerrorism. But I have no interest in
forcing you to listen. In fact, please close your minds- you will only be left behind. Take
this opportunity now, to turn off the television. Play in your parks, argue about the
Republicrats, cuddle with your loves, learn to cook, toss some corn-hole, read to your
children, anything to postpone actual productive thought. I dare you to ignore the positive
potential of OmniCapitalism. Tomorrow the newspapers will be busting at the seams with
the optimistic hope in Eva’s Will. Throw them away. I cannot teach a woMan anything,
only help them find it within themselves. I cannot sell you anything. You must sell
yourself on my suggestion. It is impossible to wake a man pretending to be asleep. Keep
dreaming, children, while society exponentially transcends itself, manifesting a
sustainable OmniMarket is only the beginning. OmniCapitalism is a warm comforting
blanket. If you don’t need its sustenance to survive, by all means, ignore my creation,
burn my words, and go on your merry way. This information is free, unlike your time.

49
A few closing words to begin. There is infinite truth and energy surrounding you.
A unified plurality. I ask you to put aside all assumptions and You create the meaning.
You can choose to create evil or goodness.

50
Chapter 6
All just a Dream
Brrrrrrrrrrring. The blaring alarm replaced my blurry dreamscape before I smashed
the snooze button. My mind accelerated into waking consciousness. Another morning,
another day, another night-set spent sewn in time’s fabric. Blurry remnants of my
strange dream lingered, of myself talking to a grandmother type lady at Tri Valley. I
tried to piece together some sense of the fast fading memories, with depressing results.
Why can’t I TiVo my dreams, schedule them for re-runs? What was her name?
Most importantly, what did she say? I had the feeling I had forgotten an essential
experience. The snooze switched on, destroying my inward concentration, and I looked
at the time: 4:20 AM. Time to start the early morning spo-ritual.
I lived for my early morning spo-ritual, starting at 4 hundred hours when the alarm
first rang, allowing for 20 minutes of light dreaming snooze, hopping out of bed at 4:20
AM, saying thanks to God for allowing his truth to remain alive in my Mody for another
day, sending my well-wishes to my family and friends across the globe. I prayed that I
might bring only goodness and truth to the world. “Mody” is my term for my integrated
mind and body- a full human being, as a human without a mind is an animal, and a
human without a body is merely the mind of God.
I relished changing for my early morning run, putting on New Balance running
shoes and comfortable sport socks, and leaving my bedroom with my best friend, my dog
Verdel, half miniature pinscher and Manchester terrier. He has been in my life since I
rescued him from the State Pound two years ago.

51
I grab a biopolymer glass from the cupboard. I twirl the glass to watch the crystal
twinkles. Into the glass I pour a glass of Brita filtered water, and sprinkle lemon squirts
into the cold clear liquid. I hungrily gulp down the life-giving molecular liquid, my throat
imitating Verdel’s slurping tongue. I look forward to seeing the sunrise on the Olentangy
River Trail, known throughout Columbus for the raw beauty of its diverse settings,
containing plenty of parks where Verdel and his canine friends play. I expect my mind to
match the stillness of the early morning air. Most people think luna-tics wake up this
early to suck moonlight crumbs. But I need a good warm up for my Mody, or else I am
blurry all day long. I need to get to a good start to make it through my day-job. Verdel
the Stretch Master resembles a deer.
I leave the door of my house with eyes crisp to the chilly dark world, and jog down
my driveway and merrily on the sidewalks along Indianola Road, towards High Street,
the main road of The Ohio State University campus. What OSU campus lacked in
sustained idyllic beauty it trumped with concentrated diversity. Verdel tugs at the least,
basically strangling himself, the long nails of his brown paws scrape against the concrete.
Stop This!
I knew I shouldn’t have volunteered for the summer tour guide job. I need to stop
acting like an Ohio State promoter already. Run better spent you sing the time to imagine
the fate of the tiny sweat about to merge with my eye. Here it rolls, salt into eye, always a
good time for all parties involved. I have reached Pearl Street, the spooky alley along
High Street. Glass shards covered the ground with streetlight reflections. I smiled as I
spotted La Bamba. A man in a muddy trench coat emerged from behind a green
dumpster, and bolted towards me, I thought his terror-twisted face complemented his

52
flailing arms.
A wave of unfamiliar fear engulfed my body before I regained my running
composure and turned to face the man.
In royal tones, he broadcast in my general direction:
I am the monarch. You are a drone. I will squash you. I own you. I had the distinct
feeling he wasn’t talking to me. Instead the endless voices of his skull enslaved him. The
muddy man sat down Indian style in a puddle, muttering to himself.
Suddenly Verdel stopped licking a tuft of grass and jumped on the man, begging for
a treat or at least a French kiss. If the stranger got close enough to Verdel’s mouth, he
would get a taste of the poop factory. I could tell Verdel liked the muddy man, because
he sat on his face. The man only muttered nonsense with his eyes bugged out. The man
convulsed and Verdel yelped, scampering back to my side. At least Verdel’s love barrage
had distracted the manic utterances, for a bit.
As I untangled Verdel’s leash, I looked at the muddy man, and I thought, “He is
just another Mody imprisoned in his emotional hologram.”
Is there no end to the mystery of everyday living?
After my short time on this enigmatic earth, there remained two huge questions in
my mind: Why? and How?
The only answers I can believe: because we can, and by all means possible. The
fractal shaman patients lacked stable self-identification. Yet their individual selves paid
my salary through the State, which paid me to chip away at their insanity at Tri Valley
Behavioral Health Care. The state also gave me a check to educate undergraduates about
the destructive properties of mental disorders, at Ohio State. I led them away from social

53
states of mental illness, teaching them the danger of long sentences, and the strategic
importance of simple communication.
The beggar’s voice continued on, his car had run out of gas, he was hungry, the
excuses piled out, but the end purpose was predictable from a man living on the
OmniCapitalist streets: “Can I have some money?”
I pulled out my empty pockets and ran off.
Annoyed the panhandler upset my Sport-flow, I resumed my daily spo-ritual,
sprinting across High Street into the security of Ohio State campus. I grokked the Wexner
art school, an exquisite art forum courtesy of a great man, I reflected on the eventual
essence of architecture and life in general, wisely wasting space. Simplicity, clarity, and
persistence won the day for Mr. Wexner. Fulfilling the American dream, fate it would
seem. Yet fate relies on actions in the here and eternally present Now. Every instant four
thought branches crossed my mind easel, each unique in its form, source, and motivation.
My true self filtered the best residue for each moment. No, don’t run in front of the cars.
No, don’t jump on the garbage can. Impulses were easy to control for me. I couldn’t say
the same thing for Melinda or Eva.
I realize most would sooner perish than think. My daily reality consisted of tricking
myself and communicating with the world. There’s nothing better to do than probe the
depths of the Mind-Universe-God MUGooniverse created by your OmniSelf. Your spirit
worships God, your Body worships the mind, and the Mind worships the Universe. Hello
Trinity.
As I passed the Ohio State Medical School towards the Olentangy Trail, a thousand
crystalline light shimmers reflected ever-changing fractal patterns on the Olentangy

54
River. The light energy- Phonergy from Hydrogen fused into Helium by HelioSol. We
live and die embedded its his fiery sphere, who is the most powerful entity in our solar
system. We fly in a Goldi-Lox orbit, bathed with just the right amount of energy, shielded
from the UV photons by our planet’s atmospheric clothes, I could not make this story up
if I tried. These enigmas are way above my comprehension. The bombardment of
Phonergy onto the Earth produced bubbles of potential energy, producing extropy
looking for a problem. The Phonergy catalyzed a burst of metaphysical restlessness for
the unfolding drama of biological evolution. Solar Power On Every Thing became the cry
of life, simple as it started.
My flesh rotated around this ball of fire. Stories remembered of the ancient fusion
reactor and me, another daylong rotisserie, radiating 10^27 Watts into space every
second. As the sun deposits its solar radiation upon our womb the planet Earth, we gain
the energy to continue life. Life is solar dependent, period. Even us techno-sapiens are
dependent on oil, coal, and other hydrocarbon biomass, which all are forms of
concentrated solar energy, produced in the past and preserved by being buried by
geological systems. Zillions of living organisms worked together to collect the energy of
HelioSol, so us techno-sapiens could turn it into our industrial energy spree. We require
HelioSol to radiate his energy from fusion reactions in its core, to impart some of the
released energy as holes of entropy replicating themselves through virtual photons onto
our earthly stage. The three main energetic sources used by humans: Sun, Earth, and
Moon.
One game, two teams with three main players, the holy divine trinity competed in
every context. The producer, processor, and consumer. The generator, operator, and

55
destroyer. The father sun and holy spirit. The body mind and spiritual soul. The id ego
and superego. UpDown ForwardBack RightLeft. Past Present Phuture. Reason Spirit
Desire. Energy Space Time. Plants Animals Humans. Art Science PsiArs. Triangulating
truth through throbbing theories.
Presently, the sun gives us over 10,000 times more energy than needed for the
global economy. We are on the wave of a fossil fuel binge, and its great, living in a pool
of petroleum plastics and quadrillions of virtual dollars. This empire will last forever, and
extend its conscious might to the end of the universe. We might as well enjoy the reserve
status of the dollar, which allows Americans to consume the lion’s share of the world’s
resources. I thank the political gods each day they extend this amazing American empire,
like every other empire before it. Why should I wallow in despair or create something
new? What hope exists to illustrate new avenues, or God forbid a cohesive integrated
picture of the reality coordinated through an alliance of benevolent beings. Everything
old-be-nu starts from imagination, the re-creative process of God’s mind enforces the
Power of God.
I do nothing- I have only a billion heartbeats to elect pervasive productive patterns
of my unified Mody. But I don’t create my proteins, I don’t create my body, I just
sustain it, as I any machine. My mind has been created through my past experiences, and
I always exist on the cliff of the future, choosing between two forms. We look backwards
but act forwards. I need more precise metaphors to represent my holographic OmniSelf.
The simultaneously spiritual OmniReality is hard to communicate, especially in coercive
language constrained by the dead past, relative to the future processes powered by solar
photons. Everything happens in the Future.

56
Good Gracious. The faint light of the Sun became a bright sunrise, captivating my
gaze. I marveled at the gigantic self-sustaining nuclear reactor almost a hundred million
miles away from my eyes. The hugeness of the situation communicated awareness of the
tulip blooms nestled on an adjacent slope. Fresh manure molecules touched my olfactory
nerve balloon and triggered memorial associations of striking smells of an American road
trip- the distant but distinct odor of a skunk’s attack; wavy plumes of hydro smoke
fumes; burning leaf piles in the country. Universally unique, a road trip across the
carbohydrate fields of America showed the true character of a person. The ability to sing
loud, be a courteous safe driver of passion, connect three hour thought trails to a higher
level of wisdom, practice foreign languages with your friends or your OmniPDA. The
road trip demonstrated an inability to tired of remembering of your wonderful ever-
emerging self. You can’t stop time, and you can’t stop two Columbus boys from reaching
Miami.
I loved myself because I was on great terms with myself. I worked every day under
the dynamic ideals of clarity, beneficence, and ethical efficiency. Cheesy thoughts should
remain unwritten. My true self was my Mody integrated through the experience of my
mind and body, into my nondual Modal self. Materialistic scientists are correct in
breaking down our bodies to smaller bits of physical information- complex organizations
of matter and energy, as organ systems, tissues, cells, mitochondria, microtubules,
proteins, fats, nucleic acids, sugars, and molecules. Our Mody works down to the
smallest DruFoos, like quarks, phonons, electrons, and photons. I laugh as the theory of
eliminative materialism denies its creator- the very Spirit/Consciousness/Mind that
creates it. So far, the champion in complexity and performance is the wrinkled grey Jell-

57
O mold called the humble human brain, composed of 100,000,000,000 cells, 87% glial
memory/support cells and 13% neuronal revolvers. We think through the brain, protected
by the skeleton, with the best system neural evolution has to offer. I am a spongy mirror
to this OmniDelic world. I am a receiver, processor, and always sending in form may
which some may shun. But I brush off my knees and persist, as pressing on solves all
problems except unoriginality and plagiarism. When you surrender yourself to original
thought, when you allow Eva’s universal truths to manifest in co-creative self-
organization, you may channel your mind to the greenest pastures. Collect what matters
and move on. Several attempts offer a wealth of experience from which you may
triangulate truth. I am still here, vibrating, absorbing active oxygen from the air,
enveloped with passive nitrogen.
The upcoming waterfall intruded into the early morning summer Sunday calm. As I
approached the foyer overlooking the tiny concrete drop, I noticed a large black spider on
the ground and bent down to inspect it at a reasonable distance…
Ugghh!
A mosquito flew away from a red dot on my hand. I swear mosquitoes are the main
reason I can’t buy the theory that God created all species on this planet for a purpose. I
can’t imagine that mosquitoes do any good. Maybe they are here to annoy humans into
moving around and staying fit. Wow, that was sad. It seems my mind has nothing better
to do than activate itself by shuttling around virtual categories, achieving novelty at best.
If I could build a thought preditor, you wouldn’t have to listen to this surging nonsense,
as I combine and create words. My apologies. On second hand, why in the kind world are
you still reading this ancient text? These words are just random black splotches on a

58
virgin canvas. Why waste time reading old news when you are living in a dream
automatically making news? My ideas flow into activity. The entire point of my work is
to increase good information. I’m not trying to hypnotize you, with the one ring to rule
them, one thought to bind them. I apologize if you can’t understand my language. We are
literally rich to read together. Don’t limit yourself. Don’t get mad you don’t understand
me. You aren’t meant to.
Verdel tugs at his black leash. The sub-par thought train had severely slowed my
pace. I better show that mangy mutt who is boss. This early, Verdel could sprint for a few
hours, spared the intense heat of the day. His long deer like legs destroyed my weak
competition. I clocked his sprints above 30 mph.
I emptied my mind for a minute crossing the historic Third Street Bridge, looking at
the rushing creek water.
Feeling a bit winded, I stopped before a white trail tunnel to do pushups. My upper
body sizzled with the tingle of lactic acid in my legs. Jumping up after twenty-two solid
pushups, I catch Verdel licking tall blades of grass tufts. I bolt, and he follows me
through the unlit concrete tunnel near Iuka Park, a tiny tree banana, a sliver of dandelions
and nature amidst train tracks and oily college urbanism. Verdel loved to chase tiny dogs
through the dandelion p…”
“Put your hands up or I’ll shoot!”
A masked man with straight bright red hair emerged around the tunnel wall and
pointed a sawed-off shotgun at my chest. Verdel barked furiously.
For some reason this Ginger didn’t scare me in the least. I knew how to deal with
the situation.

59
I calmly put my hands in the air, keeping my finger on the SpoDart trigger of my
Omny.
“What do you want?” I asked
He growled, “Why are you smiling, motherpho-?”
Before he could insult my beautiful mother Kathleen, I unleashed a parallel barrage
of thirty-three electric SpoDarts. I ducked to avoid any errant shotgun blasts. My
SpoDarts stung him like an angry beehive. I bet he’s never felt so alive. If normal
thoughts are just tiny electric waves, the darts intensified thoughts by ten million.
I opened my eyes. I thanked my trusty SpoDarts, smiling as I removed the shotgun
of the comatose thug. The ultimate in personal security, SpoDarts are tiny darts launched
magnetically. With the press of a button, they deliver two electric vectors to an attacker,
an ultra-capacitor and piezoelectric crystal. You could buy Pharma Dart attachments for
long-term pharmaceutical incapacitation. Little old ladies and huge men alike swore by
SpoDarts. The crime rate had declined greatly with the commercialization of SpoDarts
and other reliable personal safety products. Compared to the Dazer, SpoDarts have ten
times the range, hundred times the capacity, and are a thousand times safer. I can’t be
carrying my electric firearm while running.
The ease of SpoDarts guaranteed their commercial success. The SpoDart system is
integrated into a bracelet, headband, or glasses (I liked the watch style). SpoDarts have
contributed greatly to the security of vulnerable Americans. The police are considering
replacing the Dazer with SpoDarts, because of superior range, accuracy, efficacy, safety,
and ease of use.
Verdel, what are you licking now? He had picked up a long length of rope nearby

60
on the grass. Good lookin’ buddy! Extra breakfast treats for you!
I bound tightly my attacker’s hands and feet with the rope, and accompanied Verdel
back to the SPOLE at the 3rd
street intersection. A S-pole stands for a Solar Pole. Most
SPOLES were cones built of strong carbon fiber and insulated with aerogel. This
SPOLES’ base was at least double the diameter of the large oak in my back yard. The
SPOLE surface is covered with Solar Philm, generating two kilowatts of solar electricity.
A helical wind turbine spins at the top, suspending a neon blue light, while it generated
another three kilowatts of electricity.
SPOLES were the brainchild of my father, Joseph Spoey. My dad wanted to Seed
the social landscape with a connected mesh of security shelters. A lattice of SPOLES
served as an ad hoc InfoWeb, as a communication platform of musical architecture, as a
renewable source of energy for portable electronics, and as a secure shelter from the
elements. Most importantly, SPOLES were places that people came to drink clean water
and savor flavors of organic sno-cones.
Spoles are completely fueled by the sun, wind, biomass, and Hunergy. Hunergy is
my term for spiritual and physical energy of the human Mody. One common Hunergic
device is a forever flashlight, which creates electricity by moving a magnet through a
metal coil. This week, ESPN previewed the Hunergy version of the World’s Strongest
Man competition, in which they compete to generate the most electricity in various
machines. The most fun to watch is the squat generator.
On the SPOLE communications display, I open a message to the Columbus police,
give some water to panting Verdel, and quickly type in the details of my situation.
As I exit the SPOLE and run back down the OT trail, I hear police sirens zooming

61
towards the SPOLE. I marvel at the logical laws of modern society, contrasted by the
utterly unreasonable nature of some people, like the shotgun attacker. I am not one to
hate on business models, but most runners don’t carry anything of value. All I carried
was my SpoDarts and a runner’s high. What did he expect to steal from a sweaty runner?
A long day it has been already. I haven’t even eaten breakfast. I look for the
shortcut through Union Cemetery. Near the Olentangy Wetlands, I pull Verdel off the
Olentangy trail and down a hill of wildflowers. Verdel and I step through a human sized
portal in the woods. Instantly my environment transformed from woody trail to an ocean
of green and grey gravestones. I notice all the familiar Names in the grassy grave matrix.
I visualize my Aunt Becky’s eyes, my great grandmothers peas, my friend Ashley Hach’s
smile, and the hugs of my lovely grandmother, Mary. I cannot wait to meet them again, if
I finally win the game of life.
I run across the American Chemical Society lawn. I smile at the twenty manicured
acres of green grass. So much solar energy and biomass (grass and leaves) invested in
aesthetics. My lawn is an active source of energy, oxygen, water, hydrogen, electricity,
food, and bio-fuels. Yet this lawn offered even less utility than a parking lot. I will admit
the lawn looked great, aesthetic sink that it was. I had much work to do.
My body started to spasm as I sprinted the final distance back to my house. I
stumbled to find the key buried in the leaves. I remove my sweaty clothes as I switch on
the shower. I am especially obsessed with my shower, with digital temperature control,
waterproof MP3 player, and a brand new Shower Spiramid. I put on the Abbey Road
album by the Beatles, and set the water temperature to 99 degrees. Before I jump in, I
remember my morning spo-ritual DruPharma. I run into the kitchen to brew a pot of

The Omni Capitalist - My First novel

The Omni Capitalist - My First novel

Recommended

Recommended

More Related Content

Similar to The Omni Capitalist - My First novel

Similar to The Omni Capitalist - My First novel (20)

More from Joe Broderick

More from Joe Broderick (6)

Recently uploaded

Recently uploaded (20)

The Omni Capitalist - My First novel