The Prophecy Continued

Part 1

"Camil, what are you thinking about?" Abraham walked into the viewing deck and say Camil looking out at Aurocia. Abraham was young but you wouldn't know by looking at him. Both Camil and Abraham came up through the Mohammed Intraship Police Squad. Abraham was practically two meters tall, 125 kg and was intimidatingly strong. His booming low voice could stop a thief in his tracks, far better than anyone else chasing him down. Camil, although the same age, did not rise through the ranks as quickly, partly because of her sex. She did, however, have a gifted intelligence, was excellent in martial arts, and was stunningly beautiful.

"Sometimes I just wonder what it felt like to look out a window and see blue skies."

"Well can't you just hit the iView, see right here, you've seen this. It'll look just like anywhere on Earth apparen.."

"I know that! I'm saying for real though. To see a window, look at a blue sky and open it. What would that be like? To be outside."

"Well from, what I understand, when our ancestors were on Earth, we spent most of our time in doors."

"I suppose we took that for granted." Camil said.

Code Red Camil Code Red, There is open fire in sector 63, stern/starboard quadrant. It's Dr. Thatcher is over there. Code Red, Camil, do you read.

Over the intercom, Camil and Abraham heard the warning and ran out of the view deck.

"Roger that, we're on our way."

Camil and Abraham raced through the corridors to sector 63 which was also 42 floors below them in engineering. They jumped into the lev and as it took them down they grabbed their weapons. The each carried a chemo-nuclear, semi-automatic rifle. Instead of traditional gun powder, a small nuclear reaction is created in each bullet to project it forward at speeds not possible in previous technology. The bullets were chemically designed to disintegrate upon hitting anything other than what was programmed to be the target. They each had small head pieces that projected an image into their eye and they then could set the target, and the transmission would be sent to the bullet. The collateral damage in the halls of the Mohammed used to be pretty high in a fire fight before the advent of these weapons.

The doors to the lev opened immediately they were showered with bullets. The assailant had disabled the chemical disintegration and they were now sitting ducks.

Camil went low and ran out towards Dr. Thatcher who was in the hall as Abraham opened fire to cover here.

"Still, no ID confirm on the assailant." Abraham reported to his earpiece.

"Just cover me." Camil yelled back.

She reached Dr. Thatcher who was bleeding heavily from his neck. He had trouble speaking and was chocking on his own blood.

"Hold on Doc, you're gonna be fine…Doc! Stay with me."

Dr. Thatcher reached up at Camil and grabbed her face. "It's…a…lie"

"What's a lie, Dr. Thatcher, come on, stay with me!"

He closed his eyes and fell limp in her arms.

"Shit!" She screamed and ran towards the assailant. Showering him with chemical dust from the missed fire.

"CAMIL, wait" Abraham lumbered after her.

The assailant ran around the corner and into the emergency transport bay. He typed in a code into the panel on the wall and alarms began to go off. Camil looked into the bay window and saw his face. He was wearing face paint and looked back at her with wild blue eyes. He screamed at the top of his lungs in some language. Just then the transport bay doors opened and he was sucked out of the bay, his skin ripped like a burning sausage from the low pressure and he froze just as quickly from the ultra low temperature.

 

 

Extended Stay

Mind-numbing...Drunk again...well maybe not drunk but well you know...I'm laying here in bed, watching Conan, and the jokes start out extra funny but what seems like an eternity but is only 20 minutes...I realize I must have the visage of a vegetable.

The glory of it all is the repetition. Master percussionists wouldn't enjoy this routine as well as I do. Tick for tick, every day is the same as the last. Subtly over time little things change but I have done my best to hold them back. I look out of the window rarely now....

When she comes to clean the bedroom, I sit in the tub with the door locked. As the years went by she tried to talk to me through the door. She wasn't the first. There were many before her. Some angry and would beat the door. They would say,

"Mister open up. Are you crazy? I need to clean the bathroom? Are you crazy?"

I didn't say anything I could feel the anger inside me build up and I could explode if I wanted to but I know the ramifications of that. If I blew up the manager would come andhe like his bosses before him would try to kick me out. I would be shoved back out and I like it here. I do. I really like it here.

If you're reading this I must have passed. I kept this hidden in the bottom of my vinyl toiletries case. It was next to the empty trial size tube of Crest, the empty bottle of Brut cologne, the empty bottle of Goldbond. When I first came here I should mention that I didn't intend to use more than was in those bottles.

For fear that those in the hotel that have taken care of me will be implicated I do not want to write explicitly my location, but I will tell you this. I am at a major hotel in a major city. Many thousands of people have stayed here. It's very well possible the number is close to a million. I watch them. Not many people know they are being watched when the check in but I see them. I don't go out the front door but when you check in look around. If you see some windows into rooms. You might find someone nodding slightly from a distance. You will probably be so enthralled in your luggage and those wild kids that won't fucking stand still you'll never see a thing.

Excuse my temper.

The reason I am writing this tonight in the cold blue haze of Conan is to tell you the story of how I left this room. I came here 20 years ago in 1986. I could tell you in 10 pages what I did between then and now but I think you'll find it a bit repetitive after paragraph one. I am writing this because now I am dying. I am dying because I left. I left because I fell in love again.

I promise you this story does not have a happy ending...
In the traditional sense.

But you need to know that somewhere at the bottom of this black vinyl toiletry bag, beyond the soap stains and faded scent of Brut, I found hope. I retire back here to spend my remaining hours as I spent them for years but I can be proud that when I was given one more chance I took it. Ah screw it.

Why do my legs feel like they're on fire after standing up from sitting down too long. If Darwin was right and we were built to move then our legs would hurt while we were sitting down not after. If you relax enough, if you truly give up, you won't feel any pain.

How is that natural selection?

Staircase by Kirsten Shipp

Katy looked at her alarm clock, 2:30 am. She had been trying to fall asleep for four hours now – and had tried just about everything from reading the dictionary, to meditation, to counting sheep. Nothing worked – it rarely did.
 

"Screw this," she mumbled as she rolled out of bed, "I'm going on a drive."
 

Despite living alone, Katy still tiptoed across her room as she went to grab her faded blue sweatshirt and her purse. As she headed for the door, she realized she had no idea where she would go, but something was telling her to just get out and drive. She drove for two hours. At first she drove with the windows down, and the music blaring, the noise helped block out the millions of thoughts going through her head. But then she turned the music off and let her thoughts consume her. Like why she was still with her dead-beat boyfriend and how much she hated her current job. She had worked hard through high school and college and done well, but lately life just wasn't what she thought it would be. She had stopped meeting up with friends in order to hang out more with Bobby – who usually just ended up getting drunk and yelling at her. And when Bobby was out of town, she would at work late to avoid her friend's advice that he was bad news. But she barely had enough work during the day to keep her busy, so often times, she wasn't even working during those late hours. She would wait until everyone else had gone home and then cry. She couldn't cry at her apartment – what if her neighbors heard, or a friend stopped by? It was easier to just cry when she knew no one else would hear or see her. That way she wouldn't have to admit how lost she felt.
 

Suddenly Katy's thoughts were interrupted as she focused on something in the distance.
 

"Is that a….staircase…in the middle of a field?"
 

She slammed on the brakes and got out of the car. This, she had to see. It was still dark out, and the only sound was that of her feet hitting the ground as she made her way to the staircase.
 

"This is unbelievable" she thought. "How come I haven't seen this here before?"
 

Katy stood at the bottom of the staircase for a good five minutes, before carefully placing her right foot on the bottom step.
 

"What the hell? It can't hurt."
 

She took one last look around her, she wouldn't want anyone calling the cops on the crazy girl at the top of the staircase in the middle of the field, and then started to climb. From the ground the staircase hadn't looked more than one story tall, but Katy felt like she was climbing forever. She was practically gasping for air as she reached the top.
 

"Geesh, I need to get back in the gym" she thought as she sat down, her feet dangling over the field below her. She reached into her sweatshirt pocket and pulled out a mangled cigarette and matches. She coughed with her first puff, and immediately put out the cigarette. It was a bad habit that she had picked up from Bobby, and one she hated.
 

"Disgusting" she mumbled as a tear rolled down her cheek, "just disgusting." She sat there in silence for five minutes, looking straight down as her tears dropped to the ground beneath her.
 

Then she did something she rarely did, she squeezed her eyes shut, clasped her hands together and she prayed. It had been so long she wasn't sure quite what to say, but she knew she needed help. She didn't ask for answers or for life to suddenly be perfect, she asked for the strength to move forward. And as she stood up she opened her eyes and looked out upon the fields in front of her. Suddenly the black, barren fields ahead had color and were unlike anything she had ever seen before. She saw several forking roads; some with hills and rocky paths, but at the end of every road was something beautiful. From the top of the stairs to nowhere, she felt like she was standing on the top of the world and from there she could see the world of endless possibilities that lay ahead of her. For the first time in years, she felt empowered, and as she climbed back down the stairs and got back into her car, she didn't look back. She knew that what she had seen at the top of the stairs would be gone, it was in her heart now, and she didn't have time to look back, the world was waiting for her.

Current Events and Importance of Open Mindedness, Civility, and Action

    We are now being ravaged in the news with stories of protestors in the streets carrying weapons and demanding their voices be heard. This is currently regarding health care but it wasn't that long ago it was the war we were protesting and immigration as well. After September 11^th, we banded together as a nation and were stronger than ever in our unity. That has over last 8 years started to fall apart. It is now at a point that we are as divided, if not more so, than we ever have been before. Right wingers have expressed extreme fear in Obama and the course our country is taking; left wingers are worried that the right wingers will not allow the necessary changes to occur. Another divide has now occurred that is slightly different. There are those that feel that are scared by all the fear and anger beginning to rise. They worry that something bad will happen if people become too worked up. They point out some valid reasons why we should not bring weapons into the streets during a protest. On the other side are the protestors, those that are becoming more and more angry and scared every day. They have reached a level that borders on demanding revolution and they don't understand the apathy of the silent. Who is right in this situation? What are their best points? How can we be the best citizens we can be and at the same time the best friends and neighbors?

    Those that are against the fearful bring up some very valid points. First of all, the structure of the government is set up with Checks and Balances. We've all leaned about them since we were in grade school, but this process helps ensure that no part of the government becomes any more powerful than the others. In addition, the will of the people is represented 3 times in our votes for the house, our votes for the congress and our votes for the President. The majority of us have decided that those in the position of power best represent our beliefs and they will do their best to make sure that we get what we want. Secondly, and to further demonstrate the powers of these checks and balances, not much has changed in the United States in decades. We have been through several Presidents, each rocked with their own scandals, wars, and fears and somehow we still seem to be on top of the world, with the majority of us enjoying the rights of life, liberty and happiness. Lastly, a religious argument is brought up, for those who believe, and that is one of confidence. We are told that God has a plan for us and that we should not fear walking through the valley of the shadow of death. We are told to put our faith in God and that in the end everything will be okay.

    The second group brings up some excellent points on why we should fear apathy the most. The checks and balances system is bruised at the moment. The party of the President now controls all of Congress. The only other branch of government isn't elected by the people but nominated by the President and confirmed by the congress. In this situation, if played correctly changes can be made to the country in an amazingly easy fashion. The most horrifying descriptions would be to say that a blitzkrieg of legislations can be brought down on us, whether or not it is the best decision. Secondly, we are not given all the facts. The major media outlets are our only window to the world as a whole and what they say we have to take as Gospel. Unfortunately, they do not give us all the facts and they work in a world that pays them more for exacerbating problems and fear mongering. How are we to have our voices heard, when they are most often the ones representing us to our peers? Lastly, in Pope Benedict's encyclical on Love he points out that if we truly love God, and want to be the best we can for him, then no longer is His will some alien will imposed on us, but it is actually our will. We can not sit by apathetically and hope God will take care of us; we need to first think hard about the choices in front of us, secondly, pray that the choice we make is the one he would also want us to make, and then we need to act. God says to love and forgive, not be apathetic. If the Apostles were apathetic we would not know about Christ.

    So where does this leave us. First of all, it is important that all parties keep an open mind. Listening and gathering more information is NEVER the wrong step. Secondly, if we do decide to act it is important we do so in a Christian manner, without weapons. Imagine the students at Tiananmen Square kneeling in front of tanks. They were not violent and their voices became louder through that sacrifice. Thirdly, we should not believe everything we hear. We need to do our own research, if CBS or Fox News or the Daily Show tell us their opinion about a major piece of legislature we should note it but come up with out own decisions. Hopefully we are not making up our minds before we get all the facts. Lastly is a word of warning. Our government has proven since Nixon that it can lie to us. It can manipulate the world behind our backs and systematically take away our freedoms. Historically in times like these where the powers that be feel that the people have become divided and are beginning to lose power, they will create a false flag terror attack. A false flag terror attack is "covert operation conducted by governments, corporations, or other organizations, which [is] designed to deceive the public in such a way that the operations appear as though they are being carried out by other entities." (Wikipedia, False Flag) These were performed most notably by the German's before WWII to rally the people against Poland and surrounding countries. Personally I fear that the government might perform one these attacks, and blame those that are the least apathetic, like the members of the Campaign for Liberty. We are coming to a crossroads. I do not know where will go as a country, but whatever happens, I hope that we remember the quote by Thomas Jefferson, "When the people fear their government, there is tyranny; when the government fears the people, there is liberty."

Volatility Neutral Portfolio Organization

Modern portfolio theory by Markowitz says basically that for increased levels of risk you should demand higher levels of expected return. We can combine instruments together to help maximize our expected return and minimize our risk. This we all know as diversification. Theoretically, there is a set of portfolios that are all "efficient" because they have maximized their expected return given a certain level of risk.

This is regarded as absolute truth, and provides us the ability to discuss Beta and the Capital Asset Pricing Model which are excellent ways of viewing the market; however, I found that personally when I built a portfolio of stocks I didn't know how to truly measure the risk I was taking, nor could I maximize my return based on that risk. Quite frankly, most investors have NO idea how to use any of that theory. All they really can gather is that they need to diversify.

One of these assumptions we have to make is that picking stocks is not an exact science. Many studies have shown, the average portfolio builder will do just as well throwing darts at a board of ticker symbols than diving in and doing their, "Jim Cramer Homework." So, it doesn't take long before we can make the not so horrible assumption that stock pickers will pick stocks that make money 50% of the time. Our average Joe now has a list of 10 stocks he wants to purchase. He does not know this now but 5 will go up in value, and 5 will go down. He now has the difficult decision to make of how many shares to buy of each of the 10 stocks.

The first and somewhat obvious method is to buy 100 shares of each stock. He will then have 1000 shares of stock and his stocks will be evenly distributed. But the mildly involved already know that if stock number 1 costs $5 per share and stock number 2 costs $100 per share, he has not equally distributed his money. Interestingly, the first method is very similar to how the Dow Jones Industrial Average works. Next we realize that we need to take the total amount we want to invest and divide into 10 equal pieces, then use those pieces to invest in each stock. So if we have $10,000 to invest, we then need to buy 200 shares of stock 1 and 10 shares of stock 2, so we then have $1,000 invested in both. We continue that for each of the 10 stocks. This is how most other market averages like the S&P 500 work.

Before I present my method, I would like to make a quick note for description purposes. We all have had portfolios and have tried to use the second method above to invest. We may then find ourselves in a situation where we check our stock portfolio's total value on a day to day basis. This is not the healthiest method of staying sane but it is human nature. After a few weeks we'll notice that while we have invested equally in all the stocks, a few of the stocks have a tendency to catch our eye the most. They move a great deal and their movement is large enough as to have a large degree of effect on our portfolio. We might wonder whey some of the other stocks, seem to move nowhere at all, and never have an effect on the bottom line. Inevitably we'll focus all of our mental effort on the volatile stocks and forget completely about the low volatility ones because, our brains have already figured out that we are not diversified at all. We have over invested in volatility and under invested in low volatility.

The third method which I propose is to use some measure of volatility to change the amount we invest in each stock, with the underlying goal of creating a volatility neutral portfolio. If we invest more in those stocks that seem to never move, and less in the ones that move a great deal, then there must exist some combination where a "good day" in one stock is equivalent to a "good day" in any other with respect to its effect on our portfolio.

Naysayers may point out that we have made a new assumption. This new assumption is that volatility remains constant. This is not true, but volatility often begets more volatility and vice versa. One can imagine a stock that moves a great deal one day, out of nowhere, due to some amazing piece of news. Investors and traders will then try and buy or sell that stock the next day depending on their own views about the big movement. This buying and selling will create more movement which will of course bring more buying and selling. Vice versa if stock does not move, most investors will assume that it is not going to move the next day and their money will be better spent elsewhere. This is a self-fulfilling prophecy and soon no one will want to do anything with the stock and its volatility will stay low. This being said over time volatility does change for reasons like the one above and when that happens the portfolio should be readjusted to reflect the new volatilities.

One can use just about anything to measure volatility, but for the average investor historical values of daily high, low, and close are pretty easy to come by. If we take the average change from day to day we'll get a rudimentary level of volatility. For example if a stocks closing price goes from $10.10 to $10.25 and then to $10.15, the absolute value of the changes were $0.15 and $0.10, giving us an average daily volatility of $0.125. I like to include the high and low to know something about how much the stock is moving during the day. If high(1), low(1) and high(2), low(2) are the highs and lows for day 1 and 2 respectively I then use the equation d = MAX(ABS(high(2) – high(1), ABS(low(2)-low(1)). If you're handy with excel you can get a spreadsheet from Yahoo finance of historical stock prices and then quickly come up with the value d as it changes each day. We then take an average of d over time, for example 25 days is a month in stock market terms. We can assign this value v1 to stock number 1 and continue this process for each of our 10 stocks.

We now have a set of numbers which represent the volatilities for each of the 10 stocks we are going to buy.

(v1, v2, … v10)

Since we are trying to make weights that value the stock with least volatility highest, and the highest least we need to reorder the volatilities. If we find the maximum of them and divide by each individual volatility we will get a new reordered set with order we are looking for.

(vmax/v1, vmax/v2, … vmax/v10)

Now that we have an index we can then use these values to come up with the percentage of the total portfolio each stock must be to be volatility neutral. The sum of these volatilities can be called the volatility of the portfolio but it really a nonsensical number. That is used in the calculation of the percentage. We take each of the reordered weights and divide by the sum to come up with a percentage to invest in each. Now simply multiply your percentage by the total amount to be invested and this will give you how much money you should invest in each stock. At the end of this you will find a neat relationship between the volatilities and percentages. If one stock is twice as volatile as another stock for example it moves $4.00 per day and the other moves $2.00 per day, you will invest twice as much money in the $2.00 volatility stock as you do the $4.00.

Sometimes our eyes can get a little blurry when looking at equations but essentially this will create a portfolio that, given certain assumptions, will for some period of time into the future create a portfolio of stocks that are volatility neutral. One can imagine our Average Joe investor who has picked 5 stocks that will go up and 5 that will go down. If 1 of the stocks that will go down has been moving a great deal up to this point and he does not invest using this method, there is a likely hood that even though he should break even with 5 up and 5 down, because he invested equally in this stock, he might lose money as the performance of this stock will dominate his portfolio performance. One can even imagine if average Joe picked so well 9 stocks went up and 1 went down and that 1 was so volatile as to destroy almost 10% of his money. If we weight things appropriately and believe that volatilities persist, then in both scenarios he should fair better with a volatility neutral portfolio organization.

A Wish Come True (A metaphor on life)

    "All I can tell you Jeremy is believe in yourself and don't ever give up."

    Jeremy reached up and grabbed the handlebars of a zip line going from the 32^nd street YMCA rooftop out to the middle of the baseball diamond. He could see ahead of him a man with a purple cape and mask carrying a bowling ball shaped bomb starting to run from the first floor entrance into the baseball field. There was a safety net below him and his entire family and friends from school standing in the street smiling and waving him on.

    "Come on buddy, you can do it!"

    "Help, Jeremy, Help!"

    "Only you can save us! You can do it!"

    Jeremy was a 10 year old boy and because of a disease he couldn't pronounce he wouldn't live past 11. You've never met a happier boy though, especially considering what he was going through. He loved school, but was forced to miss several weeks at a time in the hospital. He sang with his Church choir and has a crush on Hannah Montana, but doesn't like to talk about it.

    4 months ago the Fairy-God-Mother Company found out about Jeremy's situation and called his parents. They wanted to give Jeremy the chance to feel what it was like to have his dreams come true. His parents were thrilled that their son had this opportunity and Jeremy's dad sat down to talk with him about his dreams.

    "Would you like to go to Disney World, or meet someone famous? You know we could probably get Hannah Montana?" His Dad said with a big grin, sitting on the edge of Jeremy's bed.

    Jeremy blushed, "Dad! No!"

    "Okay then Son, what do you want?"

    Jeremy thought hard, he looked around his room at the sports wall paper, and his racecar bed. He looked at his stuffed animals and then his eye caught it: a 6-inch action figure of Batman. He was standing with his fists tight and on his hips, chest out and looking across the room proudly. Below Batman was his father's collection of original Batman comic books. He knew his Father loved Batman and whenever he read the comics he always imagined Bruce Wayne was really his Dad, and that late at night when he went to bed his Father would put on a cape and mask to fight his arch-nemesis the Joker.

    "I want to be Batman," he said and pointed at the action figure.

    His father's eyes immediately filled with tears and he felt tightness in his chest. That's exactly what he would've asked for he thought. He wished he could see what kind of man Jeremy would grow up to be but at that moment he knew that Jeremy wanted to be Batman to not only to fulfill a dream but to make his Dad proud.

    Time had passed and the company agreed to help organize a staged capture of an evil villain planning to bomb the local baseball field where Jeremy liked to play. The whole community got involved and Jeremy's entire family flew in to see the event. Jeremy was told to get dressed into a Batman costume that was made just for him. When he was done the doorbell rang and it was two police officers telling Jeremy "Batman" they need his help. After an exciting car chase in the front of a police cruiser with the siren on, he was sent inside the 32^nd street YMCA and told to check the roof. When he got to the roof his dad was standing there with the zip line handle bars and a big smile.

    Jeremy ran up and hugged his Dad. He was so happy he could just about burst. Still holding onto his Dad he looked over the side of the building and saw his whole family who let up a big cheer. Tears started to pour from his Dad's eyes but he was still smiling.

    "You look good son, are you ready to fly?" he choked on the last word to keep from crying more.

    "I love you Dad," was all Jeremy replied.

    His Dad stood up took in a deep breath and puffed out his chest and said, "All I can tell you Jeremy is believe in yourself and don't ever give up."

    Jeremy grabbed the handle bars and stood on the ledge, his Dad buckled him into the safety rope and the gentleman from the Fairy-God-Mother Corp checked the rigging then gave the thumbs up. The villain ran out of the downstairs doorway and into the baseball field.

    Jeremy was a little nervous but held extra tight to the handlebars and jumped.

    He began to fly towards the baseball field; he could feel his cape fly out behind him and the wind blow by his face. The roar of his family was hard to hear over the wind and in his mind there were no handlebars, Jeremy was Batman, flying across Gotham after the bad guys.

    Jeremy was welcomed at the baseball field by his mother and a huge hug. She reached down and handed him his big squirt gun and Jeremy pumped it full of pressure, ran up to the purple masked man and squirted him right in the chest. The purple villain fell in a heap on the pitcher's mound and the two police officers ran in and cuffed him.

    "We'll take it from here Batman."

    "Great work!"

    Just then the whole family including Jeremy's Dad ran up to hug him and lift them on their shoulders. One friend looked up at him and said, "Good job, Batman". He looked down with a big smile and said, "I'm not Batman, I'm Jeremy."

Big Top

In point three miles turn right

The sun was setting and Jeff was trying to find his way through the Texas panhandle. He'd received a letter that, Donnie, an old friend from his childhood days had passed away in Singapore on an archeology mission and that they were having the funeral in his hometown. Unfortunately, Jeff had lost touch with Donnie years ago and was amazed he even was invited but felt obliged to go.

Turn right now

Jeff pulled off the state highway onto a dirt road. The plains were so expansive you could see all the way to the horizon in every direction and there was nothing to be seen but dirt. The sky was beautiful though as the sun was setting off to his left and a storm cloud was ahead of him. It was one of those storm clouds you that you could see the lightening inside the cloud popping away, like some fireworks show that had created so much smoke only the flashes of light could be seen.

Recalculating...

"What, why are you recalculating now, I didn't do anything wrong."

Recalculating...

"Give me a break."

Doble a la dereche y corre por su vida
Recalculating...

"What'd you say, I don't speak Spanish, good Lord, I'm turning you off."

Jeff turned off his GPS and reached around behind the passenger seat to find the map of Texas. Surey it was back here, socks, an umbrella...toilet paper?

"Where's that stupid map?"

The road was straight and he turned behind looked behind the seat to see if the map was there.

CRACK!

"Holy ... Jeff slammed the breaks."

CRACK TING CRACK CRACK

Hail started to fall from the storm and put a massive spiderweb crack in his windshield.

"Ah man, you gotta be kidding me."

Drive point three miles and arrive at destination

"I thought I turned you off", he opened his glove box and his GPS clearly thought he was there.

Jeff pulled back onto the road and looked ahead through the hail. It was difficult to see though and he could make out something large on the side of the road up ahead. It looked like a huge house. Suddenly as he got closer the hail stopped completely and he saw what it was. It was an old circus tent. One of the styles you only see in movies about the 1930's. Circular with red and yellow stripes going up to a point.

Pulling his car up to the tent he wondered first where the heck everyone was. Maybe he had the time wrong. Secondly why on Earth would anyone have a funeral in a circus tent out here in quite clearly the middle of nowwhere. He got out of the car and walked around the tent looking for the entrance. As he walked around he felt somewhat calmed as there was an old 1980's Cadillac parked around the other side.

He walked around the tent for 5 minutes, three times he passed by his car and he didn't see an entrance. Finally he stopped and walked back to his car, this must be a mistake. He opened the door sat down and straight in front of him he saw the flap to open the door.

"How did I miss that?"

He got out walked to the tent, opened it and walked in. There were some lights on, with bleacher seats all sitting around a center ring. There wasn't anyone there but in the center right was what looked like a manhole, with a ladder coming out. He could here mumbling coming from the manhole and wondered if the Cadillac man went down there.

"Hello!? Is anyone here?"

He looked at the manhole and he saw many foot prints walking through the sand around the hole and he could see words written with someone's finger in the sand but it was obstucted by the foot prints.

don H pe All Ye W nter ere

He yelled down the manhole,

"Hello!"

He thought this must be crazy but what harm could going down do. He needed to find the Cadillac man and get directions and clearly he had to be down there.

My Theory of and Method for Intergenerational Philanthropy

One of the most unfortunate facts about living in the world today (and almost any day for the matter) is that a large majority of the world's wealth belongs to a very small percentage of the world. If you are so lucky as to be in that top percentage that does not necessarily mean that this theory doesn't apply to you. In fact, it applies more to the wealthy than the poor. The goal is to create a family who, driven by the ideals of Christianity, can become the greatest philanthropic force ever.

Before I begin, it's important to stress the importance of charity. In addition to alleviating the massive disproportionate distribution of wealth charity is the single most important Christian activity one can participate in outside of Mass. We are called by Jesus to love our neighbors, and we are told that when we clothe and feed them, we are really clothing and feeding him. This act of Agape or self-giving love is tremendously important if we are to live a Christian life. Also, while critics might point out that it is impossible to alleviate the world of hunger, we need to emulate the lives of the Saints like Mother Theresa of Calcutta who despite unbelievable odds stacked against her, used the power of prayer to build her hope which in turn gave her the patience to meet her charitable challenges every day.

While there are many more points that can be used to justify the act of philanthropy, this theory presupposes the reader already agrees with them. I will present the theory then we will talk about why it is true, and then get into the method for achieving it.

Assumption 1: The notional size of philanthropic cash flows over time grows with inflation

Assumption 2: The base family net worth (or that which is not given away to Charity) stays above a critical inflation adjusted amount X where X is equal to the amount of money necessary to sustain a family off the income from a risk free investment for their entire lives.

Theory: The net present value of future philanthropic cash flows from each consecutive generation of a family are greater than any one generation can produce.

The proof for the argument is fairly simple if you've taken an introductory finance class at some point. Because of the assumptions we have made, we can deduce that if the first philanthropic cash flow from the first generation is equal to A, then each consecutive generation will give an amount whose net present value with respect to inflation is greater than or equal to A. Because of this the sum of the net present value of future cash flows for n generations is greater than or equal to A*n. This number has no limit while each i generation is limited in the amount it can give (X + Ai), it goes without saying that there exists a value n where A*n > (X+Ai) for any value of X. Essentially as the generations pass, the value of the total family gift to charity approaches infinity.

Now THAT is a big charitable gift.

Most people don't think about cash flows across generations. Many of us live paycheck to paycheck. That is the income stream that we see. On a micro scale the same theory applies. With each paycheck we eventually (hopefully) save enough money to retire. Retirement doesn't mean we stop earning money but it does mean that we have saved enough money that we can live off of that money for the rest of our lives. Some of us might be so lucky as to have saved enough to live off the income streams from our net worth without actually depleting its value. In addition, no matter who are, as we save more and more, the amount of money we earn by simply keeping our savings in the bank increases over time, so our non-work related income increases. Lastly, if we were to give a percentage of our savings away to charity every paycheck, as our savings grew, so would the size of our charitable gift.

Simply extend this concept to the next generation and add a couple of assumptions and you will quickly see how the theory takes shape. While you might be saying to yourself, "Yeah but…" at this point, you are right to question; however, the method achieving this should assuage any worries you have already.

Method

The unfortunate problem of intergenerational philanthropic giving is the first generation will most likely not see the fruits of their labor. One must truly believe in family in order to put such a plan into action. The theory assumes that you are already of this nature, and that your family will continue endlessly throughout time. This brings me to my first and most important activity, teaching the children the importance of family, and the joy of agape.

Step 1: Raise your family properly

Selfish greed and materialistic influences are hard to avoid, especially in a capitalist environment. If we have done our job well as parents our children will have the tools necessary to fight these influences. The primary tool is faith in God and Jesus who tells us that charity is an act of love not only to our neighbors but also to him. This will then translate into a love for humanity as a whole and this should through the Holy Spirit create a desire to give. The second tool is knowledge. Without knowledge and understanding it will be hard to see how the plan of intergenerational philanthropy works nor will they have critical decision making skills necessary to choose where the cash flows go when it comes time to give. At the center of this knowledge are the studies of Mathematics, Finance, Economics and Geo Socioeconomics. Lastly we need to give our children the tool of hope. Without hope they will be unable to take risks, and unable to truly trust the generations they will not know. If they are truly knowledgeable they will have the ability to earn income off of X greater than inflation through investment. While risky, if well balanced and done intelligently, this should be encouraged for those generations that are capable.

Step 2: Save, save, save

If you are, as I stated in the first paragraph, the lucky few in the top percentage of wealth then step 2 is important, but NOWHERE near as important as it is for those hoping to get up to that level. In order to achieve the value X (the value at which a generation can live comfortably off the income streams from a risk free investment alone), we need to save that much. Depending on where we are on the wealth ladder, this might be impossible in one generation. If we can educate ourselves well enough to generate an income stream large enough to live off of comfortably and save, we can start building our families net worth towards X. This is not a foreign concept except most of us think in terms of retirement not in terms of an intergenerational retirement. For those that cannot reach X within one generation, if we are diligent and have followed Step 1, we can give to our children some of if not all of what we've saved and they will continue the pursuit of X.

Now, one of the tricky points is the value of X changes. Because of inflation, the cost of living for each consecutive generation increases, so the size of the income stream of X which is large enough to sustain a generation needs to grow over time. The only way this is possible is for X to grow faster than inflation. The primary method of this growth will come from the savings of future generations. This is why Step 2 is even important for those who have already reached X. If we have followed Step 1 well, we can hopefully produce a generation who does not need to live off the income stream from X and can add to it. This ideal scenario rapidly increases the size of the family net worth above X as it will grow also from its own compounding interest. But, we need to be aware that anything can happen to our children and we need to provide a source of income for them so they might live without fear. We cannot assume that our children will produce income, otherwise our theory becomes false as eventually, statistics will take over and a generation will require the income stream.

Step 3: Give, give, give

Once you've completed the first two steps and you have reached the family net worth X, first of all, congratulations, you are now very wealthy. Second of all, congratulations, you now have the ability to start giving great amounts to charity. There are two types of generations as we discussed: those that produce income, and those that need the income stream off X. Both of which will be receiving income of the amount Wi + Xi where Wi is the income received from work and Xi is the income received from the family savings. Each generation must use the knowledge given to them in Step 1 to determine three percentages. Whether or not Wi = 0 or not a percentage of income must be given to charity, C, a percentage must be saved, S, and a percentage must be used for living expenses L. C+S+L = 100%. Even if a generation does not have the ability to produce Wi greater than 0, they might be able to decrease their living expenses L to give to charity C and save S. This cannot be assumed, but under the most difficult circumstance where net family value does not increase during a generation or actually decreases due to necessity then the next capable generation must return to step 2 and attempt to return the net family value to X.

Step 4: Community Service

No matter what type of generation we are, we must give to charity in some form or another. Luckily, not all charity is in the form of money. By performing community service we are actually giving to charity through our time and talent as opposed to treasure. While it is hard to put a notional value on this type of giving it is very important and often the most personally rewarding. Whether we are at Step 2 or Step 3, a portion or all of C, the percentage we give to charity, can come from the form of community service. In the world today the power of money is immense and a huge number of lives can be helped through that power; however, lives can be touched on a much more intimate level through community service.

Conclusion

These methods will produce a family which according to the theory above can give to charity an amount never before thought possible. In many ways, this theory comes out of investment theory, but instead of investing our income we are investing our lives and the lives of our children, and their children down the line. It doesn't take long before you realize that the better we are at Step 1 and 2, the faster we can reach step 3 and the greater amount we can give.

In addition, to teaching our children, it doesn't take long to realize that if this is possible, and anyone can do it, teaching others the same methods dramatically increases the amount given to charity. As the number of families actually reaching step 3 increases, the greater poverty and hunger is destroyed. Eventually it is mathematically possible and statistically a fact that if enough people try these methods and teach them we can completely level the distribution of income to a point where everyone can live comfortably. And to those that question whether an even distribution of income sounds socialist; the existence of the rich and the poor does not prove the existence of capitalism, only greed.

The Prophecy

The great ancestors would never understand what a 20 year sunrise felt like. Camil had been raised on the Mohammed Population Transporter, and since childhood the nebula surrounding what used to be called Centaurus B (now called Aurocia) has grown larger and larger outside the viewing deck. Originally beautiful as a child, now the glow from the nebula filled the viewing deck with a golden light that could only be described as heavenly. She was somewhat jaded having studied it in school and seen it every day of her life completly unobstructed, the idea of a rain cloud blocking her view of heaven was a foreign concept.

The Mohammed was part of a fleet of population transports that were created to transport life from Earth to other Galaxies. Life on Earth was impossible after the catastrophic industrial accident of 2211. The megacorporation Envirokeep had started the process of cleaning the planet via what was believed to be the safest method possible, solar destruction. The Envirokeep would harvest all the trash from landfills and send them off to be destroyed in the sun. Unfortunately, there was a horrible chemical reaction that occured between the Hydrogen that the sun was burning and the chemical waste that was also being destroyed. However slightly, the chemical nature of the sun changed and this dramatically increased the speed at which it burned through it's hydrogen reserves. This in turn not only increased the UV and Gamma exposure to Earth it also moved the Sun on a fast track to death.

The fleet of ships, the Mohammed, Elijah, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel were part of the Prophecy Project, an international effort to save the human race. The world was divded and loaded onto the ships which set off on their mission towards what was at the time called Centaurus B. The division was difficult and decades went by before a final tally could be decided. The ships have flown adjascant to each other for 250 years, exchanging passengers between each other on smaller craft, they became the new countries. Unfortunately 100 years ago a war broke out between the Jeremiah and the Ezekial. The intraship government of the Ezekial believed it should have rights to determine the course of it's own ship and those aboard. A civil war insued and a biological attack was used against the Ezekial, killing all passangers aboard and roughly 20% of the surviving human race. It now floats in empty space, forever entombing those who died.

The product of this attack was the installation of one overarching government controlling with an iron fist, the 4 remaining vessells. They vowed never to let humans suffer from such an insurrection and the controlling members have never lost power except in death when their duties are passed to new members who are chosen by the existing members. When the libertarians aboard Mohammed tried a revolution they were quickly subdued by the ultra powerful police state that had been created. Subsequent efforts on other ships were dealt with just as swiftly. Eventually history says we realized the wisedom of The Board and we never questioned them again.

Remember The Alamo

Mid-morning had broken and it was finally getting warm after the long winter. Jeff walked out onto his porch and he could feel the beads of sweat beginning to form on the top of his forehead; the first in months, due to weather. The wind was blowing but it was a cold, very humid wind.

He sat down on the stairs leading up to his front doorway. He had his boots in his hands and as he shoved his feet into them he looked over his land. The sky had a few clouds, but there probably wouldn't be any rain today. There hadn't been rain in a couple weeks, but somehow his little ranch in the middle of the hill country felt as humid as ever.

The 1500 acres were acquired in a cattle deal in Fort Worth shortly after the Mexican land deal in 1824. He used to be quite the savvy business man but as he stood up from the steps and felt the aches in his knees and back, he wondered if he really got the better end of that deal.

He traversed the fence line to the barn where he kept his horses. He wasn't a cowboy in the typical sense, but despite his city upbringing he was quite the designer when it came to fence-work. The land had a small tributary of the Colorado river flowing through it. Mesquite ran rampant along the creek and in the early years of the ranch became quite a burden. Learning the ideal way to turn a gnarly weed like the mesquite tree into fence line was difficult but he enjoyed the task and now had fence line that could stand up to anything the brutal Texas weather could muster.

As he opened the barn door he caught eye on a rider coming up the road very quickly. Swinging open the barn door, Jeff grabbed his rifle from the wall mount and jumped on his paint Anita. They hustled out to meet the rider.

The rider was a large cowboy and from the look of the dried mud on the back legs of his horse, he had been riding for quite some time.

"Woh there rider, what's your name? What's your business in these parts?"

"Name's, Jack McKinney, I come to rally the Texans in the Hill Country. Santa Ana has massacred over 300 in San Antonio at the Alamo. We held him for days but we lost Travis, Bowie and Crockett. Word is that neither Fannin nor Houston would come to Travis' aid but that Houston is planning a massive assault against the Mexicans. We need all soldiers we can to stand up for our independence."

American Pasttime

Like a boy trying to sleep on Christmas Eve, the walk from the parking lot of the stadium to the front gates was always the epitome of excitement. You could smell the tailgater’s grills charring steaks and brats. The air was hot, but kids running around throwing baseballs and Frisbees didn’t care how sweaty they got. And above it all, on the horizon, a monolith of architecture grew. A shrine to the past time. The anticipation was building.

“You think we’ll win the pennant this year, Dad?”

“I hope so son. We’re right at .500 and we have a history of playing well the second half of the season.”

I wasn’t listening to his reply. In all honesty, I didn’t care, as deep down, my heart was like that of a Chicago Cubs fan. It didn’t matter the score of the game I was watching, as long as I was there.

As we traversed the parking lot the stadium grew bigger and bigger until you couldn’t appreciate its size anymore. We went up to will call to pick up our tickets and Dad let me hold them. The crisp, thick paper was not quite card board but something strong. I could feel the sharp edges of the ticket and strange urge to start folding corners overtook my hands. I think it was the excitement.

The massive gates read “First Base” twenty feet in the air, and like the gate keeper at OZ a smiling man with some grocery store type scanner pointed it at my already wrinkled ticket. He had this look on his face like he knew how excited I was. I wondered for a moment if there was any other mundane profession in the world as fulfilling as the ticket man at a ball park gate. The apex of anticipation culminates right in front of him, and he has the pleasure of watching the faces of thousands of eager fans feel this very moment.

The world changed on the other side of that gate. We were no longer in the real world. Even the air changed, as a cool breeze blew by. We were now in the shade. The ground was a pristine finished concrete. The smell of beer and hot dogs was the first sensation that hits you. But I didn’t have time for these thoughts. My eyes raced around in front of me looking for the sunlight. 'Where is it? I have to see the field.' It doesn’t matter how hungry or thirsty anyone is, the second they walk into a ball park they have to go look at the field.

The upper deck lowering down in front of me; a 4 foot sliver of bright brown and green sunlight was bursting below it. My heart jumped as the light hit my eyes, and I walked straight ahead. Dad was empathetic. Nothing needed to be said, we both knew the unspoken rule. You have to see the field.

As we approached the stairs, the light began to grow like curtains rising. Behold. The most beautiful garden; the perfect lawn; the dirt being watered by the conga line of water hose men; the players hurling passes to each other from one side of the outfield to the other. And above them rose the inside of the stadium. Beautiful arrays of brightly colored plastic seats, separated by a labyrinth of stairs, spread out in panoramic fashion, second only to the size of the West Texas sky.

My heart calmed and a sublime melancholy overcame me, a relaxation after the build up of excitement. After this point all else would be the same delightful tribute to American tradition we relish mid morning on Christmas day. We could all relax now and follow the pattern of a past time that has been passed down through the generations.

Apple Ghost

Jeff stretched his arms as he wondered what to eat for dinner. “Kirsten, what should we have tonight?”

“I don’t know” She replied…as usual.

He thought for a second, he wasn’t quite hungry but it was six and time to start thinking about such things. He’d found that if he waited till 7:30 choices would become more difficult and he would surely be hungry. The ‘I’ll just skip dinner and eat a snack routine’ never worked for his 240 pound frame. Inevitably, he would become hungry.

“Let’s use that new ITouch App we got, and see if it gives us any good ideas.” Jeff thought.

“Okay but I’m not too hungry.” Kirsten said indicating a state that would most likely make it difficult to come up with a final decision.

Jeff got up from the couch, and looked around his small cluttered apartment. There was no light on the ceiling, just some reading lamps and the tv, giving the room a dream-like orange and blue hue. He could tell he was feeling lazy as he concentrated on the way the carpet felt between his toes. He only notices things like that when he’s feeling lazy. His brain, he wondered, must be so bored as to find interest in even the most mundane of things.

He liked to use the iTouch when he was on the John and so he walked to the master bedroom and turned to the bathroom, walked in, turned the light on and found the iTouch there. Clicking the only real button on the thing, brought him to the “locked” screen showing a beautiful picture of Kirsten and him at their wedding. Interestingly he noted how dark the background was, even though his memories were all very bright blue as the rehearsal took place during the afternoon and early evening.

He slid the iTouch unlocked and opened up the new UrbanSpoon app that they had downloaded this weekend. He gave the iTouch a vigorous shake, probably more vigorous than was necessary he thought, but it got the job done. It came with a couple of standard choices that he quickly passed by. Burgers, no too cheap and greasy, Steak, no to expensive. He shook it again, not looking at the screen, he yelled out of the bathroom to Kirsten who was now in the kitchen cleaning dishes, “I don’t know sweetheart, seems like the same old stuff…”

Just then he heard a yelp and the iTouch vibrated in his hand.

“What the ...?!” He wasn’t sure if it shocked him or vibrated, maybe he was shaking too vigorously, that’s nuts, he thought.

He wasn’t sure what the sound was, was it him, did he yelp. He didn’t think so.

“You alright, Jeff” Kirsten asked from the kitchen having heard some commotion.

“Yeah I think so, craziest thing though, the iTouch made a noise I think and shocked me.”

He had dropped the iTouch on the ground. It was laying in front of him with a black screen.

“I think it’s broken.”

“You should’ve got the insurance on it.” Kirsten said.

Jeff grimaced as she was right once again.

He worried about picking up the iTouch, would it shock him again. The black screen was slightly ominous and he felt a strange feeling like he was being watched. He leaned over to pick up the iTouch and just before his fingers could grab it, the screen lit up blue and grey forming what seemed to be the outline of a ghostly woman, and very loudly he heard the breathy voice.

“NO! Jeff! NO!”

He jumped back shocked by what he heard,

“Holy God! Kirsten, what the ... come look!!”

He looked away just for a second, or did he blink he didn’t know but when he tried to focus on the iTouch again it was on the locked screen as if nothing had happened.

Kirsten ran into the bathroom, Jeff was standing just out of the doorway looking at the iTouch laying on the bathroom floor. She ran in, “What’s the matter? Are you okay? Good lord you scared me!”

“I just saw the craziest thing, the iTouch shocked me then it was on the ground completely black and when I tried to pick it up the screen showed the face of a woman, and it said, “No, Jeff, No”.

“Don’t say that kind of stuff,” Kirsten said, “you’re scaring me.”

“There’s got to be a logical explanation" he thought. Surely this wasn’t a ghost, maybe it was his imagination. He had drank a couple beers that evening. "I need to sit down a second" he thought. This can’t be right.