WADE FRAZIER : A Healed Planet

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

The end is in sight with these vignettes. I have written about good guys and gals, bad guys and gals, kind of good guys, and so on. If I had the freedom to write some family vignettes, they would be far larger than life and would help explain a lot about my journey, but more people have to die before I can. I easily could write several times as many vignettes as I already have, but the intent behind them was to show the people that I seek why I am taking my approach, and I think that they will achieve that goal with those whom I seek. They are intended to show why the Level 10 approach has not worked and is unlikely to. I did not come up with my approach as a bright idea one day, but it was many years in the gestation, from my teenage days of dreaming of changing the energy industry through the NEM catastrophe and beyond. My current approach began to take shape in about 2007, as my monster of a midlife crisis ended.

All of my vignettes so far have been about my days with Dennis. I could write plenty about my encounters with other FE fellow travelers, some of whom have had more preposterous journeys than mine, but Dennis's journey and what I have heard of Adam's take the cake. They are simply unbelievable. If I had not lived some of the darkest chapters of Dennis's adventures with him, I would think him one of Earth's greatest BS artists, and to a degree, he is ( ), but in his books, he renders his journey conservatively, believe it or not.

I have not written much about my days with Brian in these vignettes. I do not have a great deal to add besides this essay, at least that I can write publicly, but I will write some fresh material. I am going to finish these vignettes with posts about Dennis, Brian, and Mr. Professor, the people most important in my FE journey, at least that I can publicly write about. I'll start with Brian, then do Mr. Professor, and finish with Dennis, who is the 800-pound gorilla of my life's journey.

SL, briefly, not many people have what it takes to digest my work, and even though you have been chewing on it for years, it will take years more, perhaps many, and that is a good thing. Nothing worthwhile comes overnight. If you stick to it, stay grounded, and keep your heart in charge, you are going to go places that you hardly dare to imagine, believe me. If you can stay out of trouble, it will be a journey with rewards that almost nobody is willing or able to imagine, and you can play an important role in healing humanity and the planet. That seems like a worthwhile "hobby."

Time for chores.

Best,

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

I was lying again. I am going to take a little detour or two before the finale vignettes, and this will be on the inventors. I write about the importance of inventors. If not for them, there would not have been any Epochal Events of the human journey, and humanity would not have appeared on the evolutionary scene. It is difficult to overstate their importance, and my first professional mentor was a world-class inventive genius. His world's best engine spurred my teenage dreams of changing the energy industry. The inventor's orientation toward the energy was my initial one, and when that voice in my head had me study business, I began developing an inventor's/businessman's perspective, several years before I met Dennis, when class really began.

Every single one of Mr. Mentor's inventions, some of which were earth-shaking, were either stolen or suppressed. As I have recently written, Mr. Inventor was really my first inkling that the perspective toward inventors that I had been imbued with by Mr. Mentor might not be the whole story, and Mr. Inventor began demonstrating it to me. In Seattle, Dennis built his first "inventor's sanctuary," which was criminally violated in more than one way. We were not in Boston long enough to do that, but Dennis built another one in Ventura, and we began to build a prototype of Mr. Mentor's engine in the fall of 1987. In December, Mr. Researcher told Dennis that another hydraulic heat engine had been built, and Victor Fischer came aboard on New Year's Day, 1988. Years later, I studied both of those engines as part of my thermodynamic studies. It was another one of those "believe it or not" events in our journey, as the only two hydraulic heat engines that I know of came to Dennis within a few months of each other.

Of course, we were raided two weeks after Fischer came aboard, so the heat was on. Fischer then began causing dissention within the company, for no good reason, really, other than making some kind of power play, and Dennis soon paid him to stay away from our facility, and he was not around much in the spring of 1988, just checking in periodically on how the prototype was going.

We had several scientists, engineers, and inventors involved with us in those days, some of international standing, and I just played accountant and helped run the business. Dennis and I did not even know there was a FE field when we began, we had probably never even heard of Tesla, but we soon heard tales of woe from those who approached our company. Stories of railroading, murder, and death threats to inventors and businessmen became common enough in those days, and little did we suspect that we were about to become one of the most famous cautionary tales in the history of the milieu.

Fischer's and others' behavior in those days further took the luster off of inventors for me, but I gave Fischer points when Mr. Texas made his play. Fischer had seen that movie before in his previous company in Australia that made his first prototypes, and I gave him intelligence and worldliness points when he did not join up with Mr. Texas and his cronies/dupes. Dennis was behind bars at the time, so was not really privy to what Fischer's views were. Fischer disappeared along with all the other expert witnesses, abandoning Dennis to his fate, so Fischer got no hero points. He was just not gullible enough to sign up with Mr. Texas.

Again, Dennis and I parted ways in Ventura, and Mr. Professor wrecked his life in those days, which contributed to his early death, which devastated me and sent me into the dark phase of my midlife crisis, just as the evil drumbeat for the invasion of Iraq began. Dennis flew me to Vegas a couple of years later, soon before he was kangarooed into prison, as he tried the Madison Avenue route (and attracted the standard attempts to steal his company).

I began hitting the books hard upon my move to Ohio, and began building my personal library in earnest. After five wearying years as a trucking company controller, Dennis began flying high again, arguably higher than ever, and 1996 began with my amazement at the crowd at his Columbus show. By the summer of 1996, Dennis was in the midst of his second national tour, he was promoting Yull Brown like nobody else ever did, and after about his fifth attempt to get me to join back up with him, that time it worked. But it did not last long and it did not work out. I guess that at its root, I really did not believe in the inventor's/businessman's path to FE anymore. When I was with Dennis in 1996-1997, I saw a parade of inventors and I finally realized how they were all motivated to get rich and famous, not help the world. Dennis put most of his eggs in Yull's basket, and Yull screwed Dennis pretty good before it was over. We treated Yull like a king and paid him like one, and he stuck the dagger in Dennis's back. When Yull came right out and admitted what he was all about (I heard the tape, sadly), Dennis soon tracked down Fischer, who was also living in New Jersey at the time.

Mr. Professor was living with me at the time, and when Fischer came back into the picture, Mr. Professor and I were plainly unenthusiastic about Fischer's rejoining Dennis (we saw what he did in Ventura), and Fischer screwed Dennis and left him high a dry a few years later, after sucking up most of Dennis's R&D money. When I saw Dennis in 2013, he went into how Fischer screwed him, and I replied that nothing that Fischer did surprised me, and Dennis's wife said that one of Dennis's weaknesses was expecting good of people who would betray him. I'll give Dennis that he was in jail when those critical events happened, but Fischer's not signing up with Mr. Texas was not a heroic move. Fischer knew that without Dennis, nothing was going to happen. His leaving Dennis high and dry was kind of the final event in my paradigm shift regarding inventors. They have talent and creativity, but little more integrity than the general population, if any. They are technicians and artists, not heroes. They are thin reeds to base FE efforts on, but the field today is dominated by inventors and scientists, all trying to get rich and famous, announcing that they are the Second Coming or Messiah, and the like. The entire field is in a state of arrested development, and it can be as tawdry as the New Age community, and that is saying something.

The arc of the development of my understanding in this area would take days to relate, but my realization of the uselessness of inventors and scientists, other than being artists, technicians, and theoreticians, is one of the reasons for my current approach. They are not the key to making FE happen, no matter how brilliant their inventions may be, such as Sparky's. The real threat that we posed to Godzilla in Ventura was Dennis bringing people like Sparky into the stable, not so much Dennis's heat pump and Fischer's and Mr. Mentor's engines, although each of them was formidable.

People who think that some garage inventors are going to bring FE to the world have no business or technology development experience, even putting aside the organized suppression. There is no underground guerilla army waiting for the right moment to save the day with their revolution. That is a Hollywood fantasy. Very few inventors have the right stuff and the goods. Like in the New Age community, for every contender there are a hundred or thousand pretenders.

The inventor's/businessman's path to FE has no chance at all in the current environment. If Dennis could not make a dent, I don't know who can. Certainly not the talking heads and would-be heroes that dominate the field today. I know too much inside stuff about too many of them, from people like Brian, and I don't want to have anything to do with the field today. The effort I am mounting is not going to arise from that community. I am going to have to roll my own.

Best,

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

As I got up to write, I realized that I was leaving out some important players for the vignettes. I am accumulating the vignettes into one document, to put into one thread in my forum when I am finished, and it is 90 pages worth so far, which surprised even me when I just looked at the page count.

This vignette will be on my friend, Godzilla (and his pals). He, his minions, and lower-level predators also have plenty to do with the approach I am taking. Godzilla hides in the shadows, because that it is the only way that he can be effective. The dark path relies on secrecy, deception, and lies, and there is so much of it in organized suppression that finding out the truth of matters can be like navigating a hall of mirrors. I have an inherent distrust of people who claim to be Godzilla's minions coming out into the open to confess, or claim that they know them. If they do it how John Perkins did (or Ralph McGehee), they have my respect and a certain level of credibility, although Perkins was more from "middle management," not anywhere near the top, and he probably is not aware of Godzilla at all, even though he knows about the "jackals" that take out uncooperative heads of state and other obstacles. My sense is that those activities happen below Godzilla's level of the game. Even the JFK hit likely happened below Godzilla's level, as was 9/11, the invasion of Iraq, and other world events. To Godzilla, that is all just the boys at play. Sitting American presidents are puppets and they know it.

I could be wrong about some of this, as I am not a deeply connected insider, but Godzilla stepped on me, I became a thorn in his foot (and to a degree, still am), but I have seen enough data points, directly and from what my fellow travelers have told me (who had direct experience with the "bad guys"), to have a pretty good picture of the terrain, or at least good enough to mount a choir effort that has a good chance of keeping the singers out of too much trouble (if they heed my guidance and warnings). There is plenty that I am not at liberty to publicly divulge, but I can tell enough so that I can paint the broad strokes of the picture that I see.

The Rockefellers came up repeatedly during my journey, meddling in our affairs, and they even directly contacted us at one point and may well have sicced the federal government on Dennis. The Rothschilds also contacted us, and the fact that they used their names when contacting us means, to me, that they are not playing at Godzilla's level. When Godzilla contacts you, he does not reveal his identity, nor do the White Hats. That level of the game is very cloak-and-dagger. I doubt that the Rockefellers and Rothschilds were involved in the billion dollar offer to make us go away, but I could be wrong.

Bill the BPA Hit Man eventually became a Godzilla asset, I believe, but it seems that he achieved that status only after "success" at lower levels, honing his chops. Mr. Texas was another contract agent, but as I first discovered with my close relative, years before meeting Dennis, contract agents are rather disposable, and Lee Harvey Oswald is a great example of a disposable covert action asset. That cloak-and-dagger world is all too real, and I want nothing to do with it, but if you go chasing after the biggest event in the human journey, which would be "game over" for Godzilla and friends, then they can come visiting, and if Godzilla comes to dinner, you are the dinner.

Dennis has survived several Mafia hit attempts, attacks from the local energy interests, the federal interests, and Godzilla has intervened at times, while the White Hats cheered him on from the shadows. As I have stated plenty and Dennis eventually admitted, his allies caused more harm than the organized suppression did, which these vignettes should have made clear by now. Dennis's journey has been like Diogenes's quest for the honest man. Only the divine intervention of a voice in my head brought me and Mr. Professor to him, and Dennis said that we are the only people he ever met who passed the test (along with Mr. Professor's widow).

Tales of Godzilla get conspiracists all excited, but most focus on Godzilla is delusional and an adolescent fascination with "power" and the like, and the structuralists, the Left, New Agers, and the like generally deny Godzilla's very existence. Both are lopsided perspectives and unproductive.

In the Creator's eyes, Godzilla is no more than a child at play. For my part, I wish Godzilla no harm. He is welcome to slink away, and in my ideal outcome, he is redeemed, along with the rest of humanity, if FE ever comes into the open. This show was given by the so-called White Hats, although I call them Gray Hats. They are likely former black hats who became sane and do not want to live on Mars or underground if we make Earth uninhabitable, which is a very real risk today. Like the organized suppressors, they give you an "invitation" that you cannot refuse.

Walking the dark path is just one of the "opportunities" that physical reality affords, but the dark path is not forever. For people such as Dennis, Brian, and myself, it can be tricky to navigate the Godzilla conundrum, to acknowledge his existence without obsessing about him, to realize that he sits there on his throne and can strike at any time, without warning, but to still go about our business. I have purposely designed my "choir" idea to not be susceptible to organized suppression, or at least as susceptible as I have seen FE efforts be. I am trying to play low on the radar. Men trying to play the hero and Messiah, women playing groupies, looking for the quick and easy answers, trying to get rich and famous – these are all paths of failure for the FE pursuit. They not only make them vulnerable to organized suppression, from Godzilla on down, but most efforts suffering from those foibles usually self-destruct before Godzilla ever needs to roll out of bed.

When the lower-level predators are involved in organized suppression, their tactics can be very crude, such as those admissions by Mr. Investigator and Mr. Deputy making faces at me while I was on the witness stand. They were likely doing Godzilla's bidding, but the money and favors changed hands a few levels above them and all they saw were the carrots of promotion, but when Godzilla directly intervenes, there are still levels of "insulation," such as having the CIA deliver the "offer," or non-descript "businessmen" for the initial friendly buyout offer. When you have been messed with my Godzilla, you rarely ever realize that you were messed with. Similarly, when the organized suppressions gets violent (which is the last resort anymore, not the first, as the bag of tricks is deep and sophisticated), there is great effort expended to make the target's demise look like something other than a Godzilla hit. Brian's brush with death was a "heart attack" that he had, immediately after rejecting an "offer" to do classified UFO work for the USA's military. Brian was subsequently deeply involved with Greer's Disclosure Project, and he knew that the UFO/ET and FE cover-ups were conjoined. But it is likely that the murder attempt that Brian survived was initiated from a few levels below Godzilla's. Godzilla has no monopoly on cloak-and-dagger operations; he is merely the most sophisticated and accomplished at them, and his professional ancestors were the world's first elites, so they have had thousands of years to perfect their craft, and likely did not begin to think in global terms until Europe began conquering the world.

Godzilla is very real and vigilant, but he does not bother to get involved unless a threat comes high enough on his radar. He leaves the garage tinkerers alone, as the vast majority never comes up with anything worth suppressing.

The greatest hazards regarding Godzilla are not Godzilla, but the denial and paranoia that people have towards him. Denial is usually due to naïveté, which can be a fatal affliction in the FE field, but the most harmful naiveté is not denial about Godzilla's existence and vigilance, but thinking that one's social circles will be helpful in the slightest for the FE pursuit. They are far more harm than good, which I learned the hard way. FE newbies rushing out to tell their social circles the "good news" about FE and its potential are lambs to the slaughter, and I don’t want to watch when FE newbies do that. If you have any understanding of my work and have what I am looking for, it is virtually guaranteed that you will not know anybody else who does. Those are just the numbers, and judging your social circles (or the mass of humanity) for their sleepiness is also not helpful. They are asleep for a reason, and they are not going to awaken by talk.

Time to go hiking.

Best,

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

Today, I was reminded that my approach is not something that I dreamed up one day, and that my advice to FE newcomers was born of learning my lessons the hard way. The attached was taken at 9:30 this morning, after hiking for two hours through virgin forest. It was cloudy, but we did not get rained on. Hitting the trailhead at 7:30 in the morning (less than an hour from my home) meant that we saw three people on the way in and at the lake. Two were coming out after staying overnight at the lake, and one marathon runner passed us by and returned before we got to the lake, out for her early morning jaunt. This is a holiday weekend in the USA, so on the way out we passed more than 100 people going in. Glad we got an early start! Today's hiking pal I have known since the 1990s, and he is a few years older than me. He is from Chicago, and I was raised in Southern California, and a big reason why I live here is for the hiking, and it is about the only reason he lives here, so even on days like today, meat-and-potatoes hiking, we are endlessly appreciative of having what he have in our backyard.

Nobody who hikes with me much fails to hear about "Wade's World," so my hiking circle is pretty small, confined to friends, some of whom I have known since college. I love them all, including today's hiking bud, and he often wants to engage Wade's World, not to challenge me (as most people would, heretic that I am), but to roll the ideas around in his head. As he read my big essay, he asked me why I was not a college professor, and I told him that no university in the world would likely take on Wade's World, even if world renowned professors rave about it.

That is just a preamble to show that I was not engaging a hostile audience, but a long-time friend. He can seem slow at times (he had a stroke several years ago), so we often have the same conversations, years apart, as he revisits territory that we have traveled before, as he tries to wrap his mind around the issues. He is big into astronomy, and actually went with me on my 2006 visit to Gilliland's Ranch, and today he wanted to talk about the global energy issue. We talked about what the USA was doing to the Middle East, and we talked about how the USA is responsible for ISIS (and I came home this article). He knows full well the precipice that humanity stands on the edge of today. Anybody who does not know our situation does not want to know about it. Believe me, I also have to put up with friends who are Fox News fans and deny that the USA is in the Middle East because of the oil, and these are smart people. As Chomsky has said, Americans who believe that have really had to work hard to cultivate their imperial delusions. When I submit to talking with friends who are there, it literally is like talking to children who still believe in Santa Claus, although they are my age. I do it as little as I can.

As I told my friend about the reality of the energy situation, vis-à-vis FE, he did what FE newbies have always done, even though he should know better. He asked about high-tech "visionaries" such as Musk, the Google founders, Branson, and so on. He was hip enough to not mention Bill Gates. I told him that many FE activists had banged on "visionary" and "philanthropist" doors, and nobody has ever been home. Dennis has been swarmed by billionaires at various stages of his journey, and not one of them has yet parted with a dollar, and they usually are sniffing out opportunities so that they can steal them. There are no truly rich "philanthropists" active on Earth today. So-called "philanthropy" is a racket, as anybody who has played the game for long knows well. Then he brought up universities, and I told him about Brian's experiences with academics, "philanthropists," and other "visionaries." I did not even go into stuff like how the Venus Project founder blew a gasket in Brian's home when Brian only mentioned FE as a possible solution. I told my friend of environmentalist reactions for the past 40 years, but did not even need to get into Brian's encounters with them. He then literally brought up the electric companies (Boy, do I get to work on my impatience issues! ), and I tried not to laugh, and told him that he lived where they did the most electric company evil that I witnessed on my journey (his father worked for the electric company, and he knew how they really were), and then he literally brought up NASA and General Electric as possibilities, and I had to remind him that Brian was an astronaut and the Sparky Sweet spent his career at GE and mailed off working prototypes of his FE device to the big energy institutions, expecting the tickertape parade, like Dennis did in Seattle with his heat pump.

He went through most of my litany here, as he epitomized the "bright ideas" that FE newbies invariably pose, thinking that they are the first people to ever think of it. Again, it is not like I came up with my approach one day as a bright idea, but it formed slowly over many years of trial and error (and barely surviving the experiences), trading notes with fellow travelers, and thinking deeply during the quiet times between my adventures.

All of that "bright idea" stuff is trying to find the easy way out, to get to the finish line without really doing the work. The biggest event in the human journey is not going to fall in our laps or be resolved on the lunch hours of the "bright idea" people, and all the victim-oriented ideas such as "protest" are not going anywhere. As Brian O said, only combined positive intention is going to do it, and that is really what my work is all about, to get people to understand how the world really works and keep their focus on what is important, and refrain from being distracted by the endless circus.

One outcome of this morning's conversation on the trail is that I think I will write some vignettes on those dead ends – those groups and institutions that a reasonable person might think would be interested in helping the biggest event in the human journey happen, which could turn Earth into something resembling heaven. There is no group or institution on Earth today interested in helping make FE happen, or has the right stuff to help. Those doors have been banged on literally thousands of times, and more often than not, they treat FE like the enemy, as hard as that can be to believe. My experience has been that they are all, to one degree or another, addicted to scarcity. If I had not witnessed it countless times, I would not have believed it, either.

My friend should have known better than to take the conversation in those directions. He has heard it all before, but it just reminded me how long this stuff takes to sink in with people. The reality on our planet is almost nothing like it is popularly depicted by the social managers. They are all lies designed to manage the herd. It has been that way since the beginnings of civilization. These delusions are baked deeply, even into our DNA, and it takes hard, consistent work to overcome them, but first, people have to want to.

So, more vignettes coming before I get to Brian, Mr. Professor, and Dennis.

Best,

Wade

[Nine]

Wade,

just fockin brilliant that last post...

i did work on a loading dock although a billion dollar opp...as it were...

hiking, cycling running canoeing or paddling in general

its all the same stuff...as it were...

what is work?

is it work to hike? or cycle? or paddle?

I would say to folks what do you really want to do if money were no issue?

I am just talking about my own personal opinion and I would still pedal a bicycle...as it were...

krazzy is as crazy does...

thanx wade...

your words are so very kind and they do promote hope...

life will win out and so to ground one must look at life in that perspective...

thanx again Wade..

Nine

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

Nine, a bud has asked that question for years, of what people would do if they were given a billion dollars. The most common answer is "I don't know." FE would be like giving everybody on Earth a billion dollars, and that same pal forwarded a YouTube clip last night. As my readers know, I will rarely watch video presentations, partly because I can read five times as fast as they can talk, so prefer the written word, and can skim it to see if it has promise, first, before going deep on it. So, last night I watched that video, which had FE in the title, and after ten minutes or so, where the guy mentioned the energy issue but did not come within a thousand miles of FE, I began to skip a minute here and there, to see where he even brought up FE at all, and nope, he didn't. And this was a guy from the spook side and is supposedly hip, has run for president, etc., and this kind of segues from yesterday's last post, where FE is simply unimaginable, treated like the enemy, or its epochal significance sails right over people's heads. That spook guy is on board with some of the more way out conspiratorial musings of recent years, such as the Boston Marathon Bombings and Sandy Hook school massacre did not really happen, which really eroded his cred with me. But kind of like Heinberg, this guy is all over way out conspiratorial stuff, but FE is entirely off his radar, as he poses as somebody with deep geopolitical acumen. I see that stuff all the time, I am sorry to say.

As Uncle Bucky said, there are no political solutions to today's big problems, and reshuffling the deck of scarcity is no answer. That guy even talked about the economics of abundance, but FE was completely off of his radar. Strange, to say the least.

Best,

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

OK, more vignettes on those groups that you would think would be receptive to FE, and I will start with environmentalists. Anybody who knows anything at all about environmental issues knows that burning hydrocarbon fuels is an environmental catastrophe, as well as nuclear fission for making electricity, as Fukushima is demonstrating, even as most of the damage has been covered up so far, as usual. From acid rain to global warming to respiratory diseases, the litany is long and grim. FE makes all of those problems go away, almost overnight, as well as nearly all of the geopolitical strife that we see today. You might think that progressive political activists and environmentalists would be natural allies of FE, but you would be wrong. Every FE fellow traveler that I know has banged on environmentalist doors near the beginnings of their journeys, and all were shocked by the responses they received. That leading environmentalist, whose name I recently revealed, acted as if Brian gave him the finger when Brian only mentioned FE as a possible solution. In that same post, I revealed, for the first time publicly, the name of the father of the Free Software Movement, who also seemed like a natural ally, but I was wrong once more.

Similarly, you would think that political progressives would be natural allies, partly because FE would mean a permanent end to poverty, geopolitical strife, and so on. I began approaching progressives in 1992, when I first contacted Noam Chomsky. Other than Noam being "tantalized" by my information, I have never found any progressives who gave FE any consideration at all, for more than a few moments. While I was funding NEM in its first year, we were trying to get Brian into venues where he could promote NEM. There were almost no takers, and Brian looked to me as his avenue to contact progressives, and while we were shut out from all progressive venues, those same "progressives" rolled out the red carpet to Heinberg and his drumbeat of doom. My encounters with Heinberg in early 2003 are what began to develop my "addicted to scarcity" idea. It was not until reading Uncle Bucky a few months earlier, however, that the paradigm that I had been struggling toward for so many years began to crystallize, so that I was able to bring some order to what I was seeing. In ways, it helped me come up with my "layers of the FE Onion" framework. All of those "smart" people, such as Heinberg, the father of free software, and that leading environmentalist are what I call Level 3s, as they develop sophisticated arguments for why FE is either impossible or undesirable. They will have to have FE delivered into their laps before they will credit its possibility, and I wonder how many of them would jump up, shrieking, and treat that FE device as a poisonous snake, rather than humanity's salvation. Again, you probably have to witness those kinds of reactions to believe it.

Brian, because of his astronaut, Ivy League professor, and political activist credentials, had access to the very tops of the world's leading scientific, academic, environmentalist, and progressive institutions for his five-year ride as the Paul Revere of FE, and after telling me how that ride went, he openly wondered if humanity was a sentient species. Like Dennis, Brian gave it the college try, banging on every door that he could. They both barely survived the experience and both were run out of their home nation, The Land of the Free.

I could write for weeks on those dead-end paths that people have tried to walk to FE, and if you deeply ponder those paths of failure, they all have scarcity in common. None take the abundance route, but try the scarcity route and seek allies and easy answers, but none exist. That is why my approach is so radical and almost nobody can understand it. If you view your reality through the lens of scarcity, you literally cannot begin to comprehend abundance. That is why so much of my work is about recognizing our scarcity-based paradigms for what they are. Only then will people stop advocating scarcity-based approaches to manifesting abundance, which is what all of those failed approaches really are. When you make the paradigm shift from scarcity to abundance, at least in your mind, then everything looks radically different. Those two worlds that Roads visited lay out the contrast between scarcity and abundance rather dramatically.

All of those slammed doors in Brian's, Dennis's, and my faces blew the winds of scarcity at us, giving us new hairdos. I know that I have to roll my own, as there is no group on Earth with the right stuff today. To one degree or another, they all sing the song of scarcity. When I mentioned my approach to Dennis and Brian, they both immediately realized that I was doing something different, but I only embarked on my path when I saw all the others fail, and often spectacularly. I mopped up the blood and buried the bodies from our failed efforts, sometimes literally. But almost all FE newbies want to go charging at those ramparts, as they sally forth to their doom with their bright ideas that are all variations on what has already failed. I really do not want to watch anymore. When another FE aspirant announces that he is the Messiah, and not only does almost nobody laugh at him, but he is taken seriously and soon develops a sheeple following, I do not know whether to laugh or cry.

I am going to try to make this short on all of those useless groups, and will end with the angels and philanthropists that FE newbies invariably chase after. When I heard James Gilliland make the joke, a decade ago, that if vegetarians eat vegetables, what do humanitarians eat, I knew that he had been around the block a few times. Anybody who has interacted with "humanitarians" and "philanthropists" knows that more than 99% of them are phony. So-called philanthropy is one of the greatest rackets on Earth, run by greedy capitalists who allegedly grew big hearts after they garnered their plunder. I have been hearing "philanthropist" tales of woe since the 1980s. When "philanthropists" provide their "help," it always has plenty of strings attached, which bends the effort into the "philanthropist's" vision, which usually corrupts the entire enterprise. This has been rampant with environmental organizations, which is partly why they react to the idea of FE like they do. I saw that corruption near the beginning of my journey with Dennis.

The bottom line is that all organizations have allegiance to what feeds them, and if it is robber baron money, then they tend to see things the robber baron's way, and it can be a very subtle process, like Stockholm syndrome. Brian was beside himself when some prominent NEM members began banging on the Pentagon's door, looking for FE help. That is like knocking on Satan's door.

This may sound strange, but having the doors slammed in our faces was probably for the best, because if the door opened and we were welcomed in, we may never have left alive, even literally. There are examples in the field, unfortunately, of untimely deaths of FE inventors who played ball with the Pentagon and other "philanthropists." I got tired of hearing the stories long ago, and Brian had quite a collection of them, although he was not trying to collect them; hearing them just came with the territory.

Time for chores.

Best,

Wade

[Scott]

Posted by Wade Frazier (here)
Hi:

Nine, a bud has asked that question for years, of what people would do if they were given a billion dollars. The most common answer is "I don't know." FE would be like giving everybody on Earth a billion dollars, and that same pal forwarded a YouTube clip last night. As my readers know, I will rarely watch video presentations, partly because I can read five times as fast as they can talk, so prefer the written word, and can skim it to see if it has promise, first, before going deep on it. So, last night I watched that video, which had FE in the title, and after ten minutes or so, where the guy mentioned the energy issue but did not come within a thousand miles of FE, I began to skip a minute here and there, to see where he even brought up FE at all, and nope, he didn't. And this was a guy from the spook side and is supposedly hip, has run for president, etc., and this kind of segues from yesterday's last post, where FE is simply unimaginable, treated like the enemy, or its epochal significance sails right over people's heads. That spook guy is on board with some of the more way out conspiratorial musings of recent years, such as the Boston Marathon Bombings and Sandy Hook school massacre did not really happen, which really eroded his cred with me. But kind of like Heinberg, this guy is all over way out conspiratorial stuff, but FE is entirely off his radar, as he poses as somebody with deep geopolitical acumen. I see that stuff all the time, I am sorry to say.

As Uncle Bucky said, there are no political solutions to today's big problems, and reshuffling the deck of scarcity is no answer. That guy even talked about the economics of abundance, but FE was completely off of his radar. Strange, to say the least.

Best,

Wade

Yup i spent 2 years asking people "what would you do if money didn't exist" the number 1 answer after "what do you mean money dosn't exist I worked hard for what I've got" where would it Go"?
the number one answer after I said "ok you have 1 billion dollars what would you do" they would say "I do not know"

And that ex CIA guy had no clue at all he spoke in vague references about exactly what Michael Tellinger speaks about with Ubuntu Movement Party which btw just was on the ticket in England as a political party on May 7th 2015 and will be represented in America on 2016 Elections.

Scott

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

Let's see if I can keep from lying anymore ( ), and if this is my last vignette post before getting to the final ones about Dennis, Mr. Professor, and Brian. This will be on one more set of likely allies, but it is another dead end: your social circle, including your family, friends, and colleagues. That is where I learned the harshest lessons of my journey, which really drove home my journey's primary lesson: personal integrity is the world's scarcest commodity. In many ways, it was the lesson that I least wanted to learn, and I resisted it every step of the way, until I had it beaten into my head in no uncertain terms.

Anybody who has really played on the high road has learned this lesson, and I think that they would all agree with me that it was the worst part of the journey. When you encounter dark pathers sicced on you by Godzilla and the other predators, such as Mr. Deputy, Mr. Texas, and Bill the BPA Hit Man, it was really kind of like the Mafia's and America's motto: "It is nothing personal, just business." Godzilla is the same way, even though he developed a grudging respect for people such as Dennis, who should have died dozens of times over. If you get in the way of their evil plans, then you become a target, but they really don't have much personally invested in really letting you have it, although they can take it personally if you survive what they dish out. Hit men are supposed to kill people, and their targets surviving to try again is a failure on their part, so then they can put extra effort into the attempts, as your very existence is an affront to their sense of professionalism, not to mention bringing Godzilla's displeasure.

You eventually come to understand their motivation, at least to the extent that anybody not on the dark path can comprehend it. As I have written plenty, the masses cannot understand people on the light path, either, as they cannot fathom their motivation, and one of the greatest lessons of my life was how people could not distinguish the saints from the psychopaths. It was incredible to witness at first, but I eventually came to understand the masses, although a big part of me really did not want to. In ways, I have more respect for dark pathers than the masses, as the dark pathers are at least committed to something other than a full belly. It takes great dedication to walk both the dark and light paths.

While tangling with the dark pathers is not exactly fun, what blindsided me were all the attacks and betrayals from my family and friends. You could not have convinced me of what was ahead of me in 1985, and if you could have somehow convinced me that not only would my efforts not be successful in helping humanity turn the corner, but that I would be attacked by my friends and family repeatedly, I would likely have stopped right there and taken up drinking and stamp collecting as my life's work. Only your social circles can really get in close enough to stick their daggers in your ribs deep enough for it to really hurt. That ex-girlfriend attacking me in early 1987 was a gentle preview of what was in store. By the time the dust settled in Ventura and I moved to Ohio, I had no contact with my parents and siblings, and it is the same today. And in each instance, I not only rescued them, even saved their lives at times, their attacks on me were related to my FE journey. By the time it got to me that my mother mounted a scrapbook tour on her son the criminal, that kind of behavior did not even hurt anymore. It was disgusting, but it was like that saying, "I used to be disgusted, but now I am only amused." I may never be able to, and do not really want to, reveal the despicable and even criminal acts engaged in by my family, and their attacks were all intended to hurt me. I did them no harm at all, and rescued and supported them instead. My experience is by no means unusual, but is pretty typical, as I later learned. The very act of helping people tends to put them on the defensive, or those of less integrity see a mark that they will try to suck dry, and then be indignant when the well runs dry. They will eventually try to settle their "score" with the very people who helped them. Crazy, I know, but it is pretty typical, as I later learned. Helping people in our world is inherently dangerous.

I have written about another friend who I helped support, who later made it his life's mission to attack me. He committed criminal offenses in his ardor. I may have cowed him into silence by threatening to make his crimes public (I have the evidence), and he will become famous if he keeps it up. When he tried to hurt me, he did it by trying to hurt those close to me, which a family member also did. I pretty easily forgive personal attacks (but I was not going to try to repair the relationship so that they could do it again), but I never forgave those who tried to hurt others as a way to hurt me. I also have threatened to expose my ex-friend's crimes as a way to protect him. Godzilla is expert at using that kind of hard-on for me in a way that not only causes pain, but wrecks the lives of the idiots that he uses. I have seen that more than once. He is like a five-year-old pining for the battlefield, and Godzilla will happily use him to get at me, if the opportunity arises, and that situation can wreck many lives while that five-year-old lives out his toy soldier fantasies.

I have watched people make excuses for the behavior of such people, from Mr. Deputy to my social circles, and so on, as if Dennis or I were somehow culpable or criminals. We all create our own realities, so I refuse to play the victim. I think about how I contributed to those situations, rationally looking at what happened, and to a degree, I did, but the lessons that I learned from those situations were those comprising my primary lesson. People are so egocentric and survival-oriented in our world of scarcity, even in history's richest and most powerful nation, that they cannot handle the perils and temptations of the FE pursuit for more than seconds, and nearly all who attacked me were simple bystanders. My FE quest was like I was flashing the One Ring to a bunch of orcs, and even though they tried to behave themselves, the lure of the Ring was too much for them. That was really the motivation behind all those people who tried stealing our companies, which shocked me the first dozen times I witnessed it, but mere bystanders also went crazy from simply being in the vicinity of the FE pursuit.

As I have stated many times, if you have what I am looking for, it is nearly guaranteed that you will not know anybody else in your social circles who does, and if you are lucky, you might know one or two, but I have yet to meet anybody like that. What I have seen many times is FE newbies rushing out to tell their social circles the "good news" about FE, like a proselytizing Christian, and they are all shocked at the responses. Nobody really wants to hear it. Wake them up when FE is delivered into their lives. I have witnessed relationships and careers end over that kind of evangelism, and I always do my best to caution FE newbies against it, but almost everybody needs to try it out, and the lucky ones did not wreck their relationships and careers. I have seen relationships end when readers introduced their "hip" friends to my work. Death threats have even resulted from pals trying to turn people onto my work.

I seek needles in haystacks and know it, but I also long ago put aside any judgment of the sleeping, which is more than 99% of humanity these days. The masses will not begin to wake up with talk or digesting scholarly and scientific works, but by having the means of abundance delivered into their lives, and only FE can do that.

One reason for my online presence at places such as Avalon is not just to recruit for the choir, but if you begin to comprehend my work at all, you are going to be very lonely in your understanding. I do Wade's World talk with some of my friends and a few family members, but it is only a few. If I can't do it, how can anybody who stumbled into my work on the Internet do so? They really can't, so they can interact with me and not feel so alone or even crazy. The FE path can be a very lonely journey. The masses will be no help at all, just like with the previous Epochal Events. It is going to be up to a relative handful of people to make the biggest event in the human journey happen, but I am trying to amass enough so that none of us risks our lives to help.

There is a silver lining to involving my social circle in my journey: I found out who really cared about me and my life's work, and they are like gold nuggets to me today. The risk was great, and so was the reward. But if you want to blow apart your social circle to find a few gold nuggets (if you find any), try bringing FE to the world and involving them in it.

OK, unless some other inspiration strikes me, my next vignette will be on Brian. What a truly great human being, and I miss him. He was one of the most important voices on the FE issue, and his loss is keenly felt.

Best,

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

FYI, Scott mentioned that little experiment in my first interview with him and Tom, the first of several that I had with Scott, my favorite interviewer.

Best,

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

I am going to give two examples of the kind of synchronicity that I regularly get in my life, both of which happened this afternoon, and one happened a few seconds before I sat down to write this post.

One was that situation that I wrote about this afternoon, where people around me began acting like orcs near the One Ring, and people tried to act out adolescent and even pre-school fantasies regarding my work. I was made aware soon after making that post that one of the people no longer welcome in my life, because of his crimes against me and those close to me, is still trying to play "me too!" regarding my work. What a foolish and dangerous game to play, but such people have no idea of the peril that they put themselves and those around them in. Ego games can be deadly, literally, in this milieu.

The other was Brian's hand seeming to reach out from the beyond. For the past 15 years or so, my screensaver at home and work is a slide show. It is mostly pictures from my life, of family, friends, and mountains I have known, and when I find neat photos on the Internet, I put them in the show. I have a life review every day, and I wonder how much of one I will need when I pass over. I guess I'll find out.

That photo of Brian and me, at the beginning of the essay that I wrote after Brian died, is the only that I have of the two of us. It was a happy day. My wife's mother took some photos of us when we stayed at their home earlier that same day, but I never saw them. Maybe one day they will turn up. My slide show has nearly 2400 images in it, and it plays randomly, at several seconds per slide. That picture of us is in that slide show, but I have not seen it in the show for months or even years. As I walked into my office, I was planning to sit down and write about Brian, and I was beginning to organize the post in my mind. I thought about the many parallels and overlaps in our journey, for which it sure seems like there is more than meets the eye. I was thinking those thoughts as I walked to my computer, and as I looked at the screen as I sat down, there was that picture of us, staring out at me. The odds of that randomly coming up while thinking like that was one-in-2,393. Just like Mr. Professor apparently coming through at his grave to help me overcome my sadness, I think that I just heard from Brian, and so will begin my Brian vignette with what I was thinking when the image of his smiling face came up just now. Again, I do not regret any step of my journey, even my screw-ups, of which there were plenty, and while moments like that can be great blessings, the journey comes with many challenges. It is definitely a mixed bag, and it feels like we were all sent on a suicide mission. Brian and Mr. Professor were casualties, while Dennis and I are still operational in physical reality.

Brian, Dennis, Mr. Professor and I had pretty evenly staggered births, with Mr. Professor's in 1935, Brian's in 1940, Dennis's in 1946, and I was the straggler, born in 1958. Mr. Professor and Brian were old enough to be my father, and Dennis was more like a big brother. We were all members of history's most privileged demographic group: white, American, educated men who lived during the most prosperous era in the human journey. Dennis and I qualified as baby boomers, while Brian and Mr. Professor were born and raised during an economic depression and history's greatest war. Brian and I were born on separate coasts, although my FE journey began in his home town, about a year after we were neighbors in LA and lived so close together that I could have walked to his home (I lived in Redondo Beach and Brian surely lived near his job in neighboring Hermosa Beach). We were both prodigies raised to be scientists, and I left Houston, as my father fled NASA, two weeks before Brian interviewed at NASA and had one of history's most bizarre interviews. We had our mystical awakenings performing the same exercise, which propelled both of us toward FE, although neither one of us knew it at the time.

I became Dennis's partner at nearly the same time that Brian was losing his job and last Establishment position for refusing to work on Star Wars. A few months later, I was bizarrely moving back to Southern California, which was the last place where I wanted to be, and was driving to work in LA again the next year, after having my life wrecked, just as Brian began his explorations on the frontiers of science. I staggered out of Southern California and moved to Ohio in 1990 as Brian began investigating the fringes full time, and fate had our paths cross in Ohio in 1991. Meeting Brian is a golden memory, and the subject matter that we discussed in our half-hour ride from the airport was kind of a sketch of our lives, with FE (and that remarkable Sparky Sweet connection), UFOs and ETs, and the cloak-and-dagger world that attends those milieus. The next year, after Brian turned down an "offer" to do classified UFO work for the American military, he nearly died in an event that he was sure was the military's response to his refusal: they made him an offer that he could not refuse.

Brian and I had no contact for the next several years (and I never asked Brian about it, but I doubt that he remembered his chauffeur from that day in 1991), but in late 1995, I saw an announcement for Brian's latest book and became its biggest fan, just as Dennis was mounting his national speaking tours that spurred Godzilla to take the game to levels that we had not experienced before. It was then that Brian and I began to become collaborators, although it was still long-distance and I did not see him again until our fateful meeting in California. Brian asked me to meet with him soon after I co-discovered evidence that the Apollo moon landings happened as advertised, at least as far as men got to the Moon using rocket technology and walked on the Moon. Sadly, I was never able to get Brian over the hump on the issue, primarily because Brian never did the work needed to satisfy himself that the evidence was robust and that the faked moon landings evidence was invalid, to put it politely. A few months before he died, as I was battling with Wikipedia's editors over his biography, I had Brian write what became his final statement on the issue.

Two years after squiring Brian around California, he asked me to help found the New Energy Movement, which began a period of close collaboration. I got cold feet pretty quickly, asked to get out, and Brian begged me to stay, just as the first speaker who committed to our conference was murdered a few days after committing, and Brian soon moved to South America, where he stayed for the rest of his life, in a kind of self-imposed exile. I was in the middle of my monster of a midlife crisis, and we had no contact for years, and Brian was kicked out of NEM by the people that he invited in to help after I left. I eventually came out of the darkness, soon after being invited to the White House. I never want to see Washington D.C., the heart of the empire, while Brian had a co-dependent relationship with it. About a week after declining the White House invitation, Brian was speaking in front of the White House. The next year, we began to come back into each other's lives, largely because of this essay, and Brian's colleagues arranged my first public interview, and the next year we did a joint interview. A few months later, Brian asked me to co-author a proposal to the DOE, and around the same time I began a letter to him which I did not complete for a year, and the public version of it is my lessons learned essay. I then became his biographer and wrote and got his NASA biography published, which was an adventure and led to these anecdotes to defend his NASA biography from prominent people trying to debunk his Martian credentials.

In June 2011, I heard from Brian for the last time, as he invited me to his home in South America, but I used that time to see my mother for the last time. Brian was planning on promoting my current approach to FE before he died the next month.

As I just wrote all of that, I once again had this feeling of finding it hard to believe that that all happened, but it did, just like Brian's smiling face coming up on my computer as I sat down to write about him.

What I just wrote only conveys the bare facts of our days together, but I really want to convey what Brian was like and what I learned from our days together. Brian really was a delight to be around. He was a great man, but humble in an engaging way, probably from the battering that he had. We all got humbled on our journeys. Brian saw the highs and the lows, in ways more than I did, but none of our journeys held a candle to Dennis's ridiculous life. Brian, Dennis, and I all had substance abuse problems, and mine was likely the worst of all three of us, battling with the bottle for twenty years like I did, to quit in 2000, just as my midlife crisis began. If I drank during my midlife crisis, I might not be here today.

Brian loved nature, felt guilty every time he filled the gas tank in his car, and was a gregarious man of the people, like Dennis is, and carrying their spears was among the greatest honors of my life. As with Dennis and Mr. Professor, I feel that I was guided toward Brian, if not quite as spectacularly as how I was guided to Mr. Professor and Dennis. His popping up on my computer tells me that he is still around. Soon after he died, a psychic friend contacted me with a message allegedly from Brian, which was, "Be careful!" I have done my best to heed that otherworldly advice in my life and FE effort.

When I played chauffeur to Brian in 2001, I witnessed his sense of optimistic urgency, and that sense of urgency was there until he died. He regarded his body like Dennis and I do: a vehicle to use to get our mission on Earth accomplished, and we will drive them hard to the very end. When he asked me to do his biographies, he knew the end was near, and after his second heart attack, he was certain of it. From what I heard, he died happy. Brian gave it the yeoman's effort and then some.

I learned from Brian how closed off the academic and scientific establishments were toward the idea of FE, and I heard plenty about the FE milieu from Brian, as he was kind of its spokesman. He had wise things to say about the technical challenges of making FE happen, some of which I had already learned the hard way, and one reason why I was with Brian was that I had already been through the meat grinder when we met and recognized a fellow traveler, similar to how I recognized Ralph McGehee. It really takes one to know one, and I immediately recognized Brian as somebody worth listening to. What attracted me to Brian and Dennis was their great hearts, not their fame or talent. I resumed my science studies after my NEM days, and Brian sometimes provided guidance.

I have written plenty about Brian over the years and will certainly do so in the future, but I wanted to put him in these vignettes. He is in my pantheon.

Best.

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

This is my next to last vignette, and it will be on Mr. Professor. My big essay is dedicated to his memory and Brian's. He was born on the family farm in North Dakota in 1935. When he was 12 years old, the Minneapolis Lakers played nearby while barnstorming, which was the first basketball game that he ever saw. He was a Lakers fan for the rest of his life. Like nearly all American men of his generation, he served in the military. His father was an alcoholic who died young, and Mr. Professor was the oldest child and only boy, so he became the family patriarch at a young age, sending his military paycheck home to support his family, including his four sisters.

Like Brian and I, Mr. Professor and I had some almost eerie connections. Like me, he was a star athlete in college. He won the discus throw in the state track meet in college (he attributed it to luck on a windy day), and he also threw the javelin. I had a world-class throwing arm and was also a javelin thrower in college. I was expected to get the school record where he taught, but did not get it, in one of the many humbling experiences of my life, as the nicest guy I knew in college walked onto the team and got the record instead of me, after following my advice at a meet. I grew up in Ventura and was a Lakers fan from age 10 or so, and the last time I saw Mr. Professor, we watched Lakers games at Dennis's compound. Mr. Professor was so ill from the diabetes that soon killed him that he could no longer sleep lying down, and he slept in a chair in front of the TV where we watched those Lakers in the playoffs (the Shaq/Kobe era, just before they began winning championships). But I get ahead of myself.

North Dakota, like Kansas, where my grandparents were raised, is what they call a "red state" today, which can be counted on to vote Republican. Mr. Professor was raised in that environment, and I suppose that he would be called a paleoconservative today. I have a lot of respect for paleoconservatives, and Mr. Professor was a paleoconservative in the best way. He was steeped in American capitalism and became an accounting teacher. When that voice in my head answered that desperate prayer when I was 19, and I began studying business, it set my path to intersect Mr. Professor's. In 2002, 25 years after that voice first spoke up, as I was standing next to Mr. Professor's corpse, after his life was ruined and shortened by his involvement in my adventures, that voice spoke up for the last time in my life so far, that time unbidden, and took "credit" for leading me to him. That revelation sent me into the dark phase of my midlife crisis, which I did not begin to emerge from until Dennis invited me to the White House. But again, I get ahead of myself.

I have written plenty about my prodigy status, which was evident from the time I could walk. Great things were expected of me, from my parents to my teachers to my friends to their parents. While I cannot regret the attention and opportunities that I received, it is a mixed bag to be treated that way, especially when you fail to live up to their expectations. When the Golden Boy acted his most golden, his parents disowned him. Mr. Professor was another Golden Boy, like Dennis (we all had the first-born's disease of being high achievers, and looked after our younger siblings and even became father figures to them, at times), and his sisters disowned him after he rescued Dennis and wrecked his life in the process: none of them attended his funeral. But again, I get ahead of myself.

At the local college, Mr. Professor was a legend. He not only was the best teacher that I ever had, he was beloved by all who worked at the college. He was a partner in a CPA firm, and during tax season he worked 70-80 hour weeks, teaching college by day and serving his clients by night. His policy was that any member of the college faculty or staff could come get free tax advice from him while he was on campus, so how could you do that and not become beloved? He hated college politics and stayed as far away from it as he could, but he was a star teacher and wowed them all with his competence and generosity, and he nearly ran the college. He had keys to the athletic facility, where he and I played basketball during our years with Dennis, but again, I get ahead of myself.

He was the kind of teacher that changed lives, encouraging his pupils to reach their potential. I knew people whose lives he changed, as studying under him changed their life's direction. His class was highly demanding, but he made you want to succeed at mastering it. So, the record-setting student met the legendary teacher, and that is when the fireworks began with my journey, as I look back at it.

That year that I studied under him was the same year that I was supposed to set the school record in the javelin (but my vegan ways at the time essentially scuttled that plan, although my best throw that year came within a foot of the record that my teammate beat that season, on his way to becoming the MVP of our team). As I look back at that, it again seems eerie that that voice led me to him, and I was his star pupil and a track star to boot who competed in an event that he competed in.

The next year, I chased my girlfriend to the university (and she dumped me a week after getting there, which began a very trying emotional year for me, as we lived a floor apart in the same dormitory, and I watched her dating other guys, oh, the fun of those memories! ), and when I took the national accounting exam on my first day of class at the university, I got the highest score at the university (and the test that I took in my last class was the highest in the university's history to that time). Sure, my talent had plenty to do with it, but more than that, my education at the junior college was better than anybody got at the university. I came in head-and-shoulders above everybody else, and was immediately recognized by the faculty as something special. In my agony of that first quarter, I sent a letter to Mr. Professor, letting him know how his star student was doing at the university.

My life's greatest crime I committed the next year, losing my virginity to my best friend's girlfriend, who threw herself at me for a year before I did anything about It (which that girlfriend who attacked me also did – I was never aggressive with women, to put it mildly). During my first year at the university, that woman took Mr. Professor's accounting class and became an accountant herself, as he launched one more student at her career (and my wife's former brother-in-law also had his life changed by being Mr. Professor's pupil, for two of many that I know of), and she told me that he read my letter to him to the class. He revealed no names, but it was obvious to her who wrote that letter. That was the kind of relationship that Mr. Professor and I had, before I even graduated from college.

When my misadventure out of college landed me back in Ventura, living with my mother, a few months after graduation, I ran into Mr. Professor in town, and he invited me to come see him, and we visited at his home, mere weeks before I began my career in LA. In those days, he told me about a life insurance company that was bucking the corrupt industry and succeeding, and that was the first time that I heard about A. L. Williams. He said that if I had any money to invest (ha, ha, said the starving graduate, living with his mother), that it would be a smart play to invest with them. As fate would have it, I worked at that company on a consulting engagement a few months later, and Mr. Professor rode that rocket and became a millionaire.

I then spent the three unhappiest years of my life in LA, and when I felt backed into a corner once again (after more preposterous events, which have been typical in my life), I prayed for guidance for the second and so far last time in my life, the voice came through again, and the next week, I was interviewing at Dennis's company, and my wild ride began.

That Christmas season, as I was fasting because it was cheaper than eating, I sent Mr. Professor a Christmas card, letting him know what his crazy student was up to. Before that fast ended, I improbably became Dennis's partner, while rescuing us from being homeless, and a week or two later, I got a letter from Mr. Professor. Enclosed was a check for $1,000, just a "Merry Christmas" gesture from him. By that time, I was hearing from friends who heard about our effort from people I had given some of my stock to (I gave away 10% of my holdings to friends and family who could not invest with me), and there was a second wave of investors (and I double the price for them, we needed the money, and that is what led to that girlfriend attacking me), and I decided Mr. Professor's incredibly generous gesture (I never received a gesture like that before or since) would not just be "Merry Christmas," but I let him know that he was now an investor in our company. That series of innocent events was far more fateful than I could have believed.

I have to run to work, and my Mr. Professor vignette will run to more than one post, which I will continue this evening.

Best,

Wade

[Servant Limestone]

Hi:

I am actually a Spurs fan, Wade. Hahaha. It's quite nice how you talk about your life journeys. It's very entertaining and inspiring. And like you, I have a lot of respect to paleoconservatives, since I saw them as the true American conservatives than the fusionist Cold War New Right conservatism of today. They're the ones that Chomsky refer to as the real conservatives and the paleoconservatives also have a great respect to Uncle Noam. The New Left of the 60s and the Old Right also do have a lot of overlap with each other, ideologically.
edit: Both groups actually tried to find a way to come together and form a single, united political force. It didn't happen anyway.

That's all I can say for now.

Thanks,

SL

[Wade Frazier]

Hi SL:

As Uncle Bucky stated, no political stripe understands abundance, as all political philosophies are about who gets the benefit of the scarce economic production. That said, some are more enlightened than others, and while it is easy to see the limitations in paleoconservative thinking, at least they seem honest. The same can't really be said for neocons (Bush) and neolibs (Clinton). Ron and Rand Paul are paleos, and if I was going to vote, it might be them. But voting in the USA is a meaningless ritual, as it pretty much is everywhere on Earth. If people voted in an FE sanctuary, free of the influence of the many predators, and the results would be open-sourced and given away, I would cast that ballot. My work is really about making that happen, in the end, but there won't be any election to set it up. There is not enough integrity and sentience in any political jurisdiction on Earth today for that. It has to happen differently, and it will begin with a choir, at least in my vision.

Back to my saddest vignette of all.

Best,

Wade

[Nine]

Hi Wade,

Hey its Tuesday nite again...

I really do apologize to your fine readers for my rants...as it were...

You see we do this organized bicycle ride on Tuesday nite based upon tour de france racing fans and what not and so these fans buy very light weight bicycles to ride upon such events...as it were...

What really is a bicycle?

I could tell you about that sometime but not tonight...as it were...

My story is about grounding upon the real world...

Is my world bad? Course it is and many could poke plenty of holes in my world...as it were...

We had a debate in our cycling club about the future of this club and it went something like this...

We have two groups of cyclists the very fast and the somewhat fast and we need to manage this better...and I did agree to that premise but...a few things came up...

If this is a group ride do we drop the unfit?

How do we define fitness?

Is it any way connected with technology?

Well retarded folk are not supposed to ask questions from our rulers...as it were...

I asked away and gained support for my position in this fine cycling club...

One of my dear friends is 64 years old and is and has been a wonderful athlete yet he has a heart condition that could afflict anyone of his age...should he be dropped out of our group?

I took decisive action upon our group ride tonight to see that that did not happen...

Another friend of mine said that you are either moving up or moving down...as cycling goes...

and to another story about tonight...a guy got dropped off of the "A" group and so as a leader of the peloton I made no move to mount an attack to catch this rider in his "solo" breakaway...as it were...

His ride at that point was irrelevant....as it were and so why mount an effort to reign him in?

Yet two miles before the end of our ride I mounted a massive attack to reign him in and our team did so...

The point?

I stayed out in front of the slow group so I am a hero...

I decided that such notions had to be moderated but not crushed...as it were...

And so if you wish to understand the human mind one should consider the sport of competitive cycling since it is the sport that most often shows how energy is the main deal of the sport...

And after the ride and enjoying a glass of beer that very pal of mine joked about how he stayed ahead of the "B" group to the end of the ride..

I did indeed point out in a public manor the error of his ways...

Did you or did you not finish the ride to the very end with out being caught?

I have the greatest love for this fellow Wade....as it were....

All I am saying to you and your readers is that it is complicated and difficult to be a human being in this world that we live in...

And Wade in your mystical writings you stated that one should let one in upon the joke...as it were...

I certainly don't get it in the least...

thanx

Nine

[Nine]

Hi Wade,

what really is integrity?

what is a law?

those anarchists might be on to something...

it is curious to me that Chompski says nothing about the power of simply not participating in the deal....

Dearest Wade whom was the last president that you voted for?

I voted for Ragen and am so ashamed of the deed...

am i a bad person because i lost interest in this four year ritual?

and a "q" should we simply vote our interests?

who does define what they maybe?

And so as an absolute "idiot" this might be the time if asked properly would you please read this essay?

http://www.ahealedplanet.net/humanity.htm

there is real important stuff in that document...

Wade you simply have way more Patience than i have...as it were...

all i can do is try..

thanx

nine

[Servant Limestone]

Hi:

Ralph Nader and Ron Paul had discussed the possibilities of a progressive-"libertarian" alliance before. I think it would be great for you Wade to also vote Green. Of course, in the course of the whole FE journey, it wouldn't matter much. As we all know, our political ideologies does not even discuss the possibility of an abundance based civilization, despite some usage of language of "post-scarcity" like of Murray Bookchin, it's still a form of austerity. Even the Venus Project is austerity. Absolutely nothing comes close because the FE concept is not in them.

That's all.

Thanks,

SL

[Wade Frazier]

Hi guys:

Briefly, I was raised Democrat, as it were ( ), and voted for Carter just after I turned 18, as I recall. He actually was the least imperial and least disgusting of all presidents since JFK. I think that I voted for Clinton the first time, and maybe even Dukakis, but more to end the Bush reign (and we know how that worked out ), but the only vote that I cast since then was for Nader in 2000, who is really the only candidate in my lifetime worth voting for. We had dealings with Gore in the 1990s, and were not impressed. Somewhat bizarrely, the administration that liked Dennis the best was Bush the Second's, as George's energy advisor was a big fan of Dennis's. But Robber Barons got involved and Dennis was finally run out of the USA under Obama. When I made the "meaningless ritual" comment, that actually comes from Nader, when describing the USA's electoral process, long before he ran for president.

The bottom line is that electoral politics are meaningless, a charade to delude and entertain the masses. We are running out of our primary energy resource a million times as fast as it was created, and making Earth uninhabitable in the process, and next to that, everything else is noise.

Retail politics and politicians are like money and economics: politicians and money are only the system's trappings, not the system itself, like a paint job. They are the visible part that the public is familiar with, so that is where the public's focus is, but to think that politicians or money are in of themselves important, and manipulations of them are going to "change the system," is highly deluded. Again, there are no political solutions to the important problems, and money is only accounting. Near the end of his life, after a lifetime of self-admitted codependence with Washington D.C., Brian admitted to me that electoral politics was dead end. He certainly gave it the college try, but nobody is home.

Back to Mr. Professor's tale.

Best,

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

Back to Mr. Professor. When I got that "Merry Christmas" gift from Mr. Professor, I was already Dennis's partner, and we were feverishly preparing for our Greatest Energy Shows on Earth, and the first was staged in the Old South Meeting House, where the Boston Tea Party was planned, to show you how much P.T. Barnum and American Patriot blood runs in Dennis's veins. A lot began happening, including Godzilla's first entreaty, a red carpet treatment from the most powerful electric company executive in New England, various officials sharpening their axes, Amway's interest, beginning to be attacked by my investors, led by my ex-girlfriend, 70 hour weeks for me, and surprise of surprises, the stress symptoms that gradually disappeared during my life's happiest year came back in full blossom! By May, I was kind of a pile of frayed nerves, and my drinking problem was back full-blown.

My fleeting delusions of grandeur in those days were quickly beaten out of me, and they never really came back. I understand that I am still chasing the biggest event in the human journey, but no longer see myself as the president, etc., although my ego has had many challenges over the years. Almost everybody who gets involved had to go through some version of that, as the magnitude of what we were involved with began to sink in. It is kind of like a baptism, and nearly everybody still active had to go through it. Many could not handle it and became causalities, like that guy who announced that he is the Messiah. I have watched people crash and burn in many ways. But Mr. Professor was one of the lone exceptions. He was one of the very few who became excited about what we were doing because of the potential benefit to humanity and Earth. Most give it lip service, but those who do more than talk big? Very few. In the entire history of FE, I could probably fit them all into my living room. Nearly all inventors try to get rich and famous, greed takes over, megalomania, and so on. Very few can handle that rarified air for long.

I think that growing up as a farm boy helped Mr. Professor be grounded, and the same could be said for Dennis and his migrant farmer upbringing. There is a certain charm to farmers of the plains. My grandfather was one. I brought Mr. Mentor in early on to evaluate what we were doing. Were heat pumps married to heat engines to do FE a pipe dream? He was not so quick to call it "impossible," (although Dennis's original idea was technically naive) and he eventually came forward with the idea of marrying the panels of Dennis's heat pump to his engine, and that was when the rocket really began to take off in Ventura. Fischer's arrival was really just icing on the cake. They never told me, for one of the many secret deals and encounters that Dennis had behind my back, that Mr. Mentor told Dennis that if we wanted to work with him, to move the operation to Ventura. I only discovered that when I read it in one of Dennis's books. In the meantime, I introduced Mr. Professor to Dennis sometime that spring, and before I knew it, Mr. Professor was raising money in Ventura, to be Dennis's regional dealer, as I recall. Somehow that morphed into something else, and I was not really involved. But when we moved the operation to Ventura in June 1987, Mr. Professor handed us a wad of money and said to get going.

Mr. Professor and I were the only two investors Dennis ever had who just gave him the money and said, "Go make it happen." Every other investor tried to control it, wrest control away from Dennis and steal it all, etc. After about a month or two in Ventura, just before the rocket began to take off, Dennis asked me, "Do you have any more like Mr. Professor in your back pocket?" He had never had investors like us before, and never did again.

Then the rocket began to take off, and I was working 12-14 hour days to just survive. After nearly a year of living with Dennis and his family, I finally decided that I would live on more than the $50 per week that I had been living off for the past year, and asked if I could be paid enough to rent a room, and my "friends" led me straight to my future wife. I was a ten-minute drive from the office, and in those days, I worked an 8-hour day, went home to eat, and then returned for the night shift, often not going home until around midnight. Mr. Professor was busy teaching college but popped in regularly. It was soon before the raid or just after, he spent an evening with me trying to help arrange my office. I basically put my desk back together in the evenings, getting it ready for the next day, and within an hour of business the next morning, my desk was a shambles again. He saw the process once, and had some idea of what I was up against. It was truly crazy, and about six weeks after the raid, when I got involved with my future wife, I began to into a general physical collapse, and by April, I was a pile of frayed nerves again, like in my LA days, and people told me that the circles under my eyes were so pronounced that I looked like a raccoon. I literally ran between our two buildings all day long. Walking was too time-consuming. I shudder to recall those days after the raid.

In March of 1988, Mr. Professor took me out for the weekend to Santa Cruz Island. With his farmer background, hunting and fishing is what he grew up doing, and he became quite the hunter, and bagging a grizzly in Alaska was one of his hunting feats. There was a hunting preserve on the island's east end (the sign at its entrance said "Hunt Med" a pun on Club Med), and in March during a normal year, the hills look like Ireland, and walking around that island (with nobody else within miles of me, most of the island was a nature preserve by that time, and when the hunting preserve ended, the entire island became a park) and that weekend was one of the most memorable experiences of my life. We took a helicopter out to the island, and midway we hovered over migrating gray whales, followed by a pod of dolphins (tailed by a whale-watching boat). Not that my life was easy until then, but as I look back, it was like the calm before the storm. Mr. Professor was the real hero of what happened in Ventura, and it cost him his life, which devastated me. I'll tell that tale in the coming post or two, but it is time for work.

Best,

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

To back up a little, for those who have Dennis's The Alternative, Mr. Professor witnessed the deputies steal the material from Mr. Researchers office, as they carried it out to a car and drove away. See exhibit 2B. That was an eye-opening day for Mr. Professor. As fate would have it, one of Mr. Professor's former students was part of the raid as a deputy, and when he saw Mr. Professor standing outside of our building, he walked over to Mr. Professor and berated him, astounded that Mr. Professor could be involved in such a criminal enterprise. Mr. Professor then asked about all the material that the deputies stole earlier in the day, and the man gave Mr. Professor a look of incredulity. I doubt that that man began waking up that day to the evil that he was part of. People like that rarely do.

I was a Golden Boy, but Mr. Professor was a pillar of the community, the most beloved instructor at the local college. That this all happened in our home town was stunning, to say the least. The day of the raid was the last time that I spoke to my mother for years. She attacked me when I called to warn her to keep her head low at work the next day and not try to defend me, as she could lose her job. I did not have to worry, as she eventually compiled a scrapbook of all the lying articles that her employer published and took it on a "my son the criminal" tour to my friends, family, and investors. There are far more lowlights like that than I really want to recall. While those around me acted cowardly, dishonorably, criminally, and so on, Mr. Professor stood out like a beacon in the darkness.

Again, I began going into a general physical collapse six weeks after the raid, and in April, I asked Dennis for the summer off, not knowing if I could ever work in an environment like that again. The next month, Godzilla added a couple of zeroes to his offer of the previous year, and once again, I never heard of it until I heard Dennis speak in front of the public in 1996, and read it in The Alternative. The next month, Dennis found himself in jail with a million dollar bail, and like Brian's brush with death after rejecting the military's "offer" to do classified UFO work, Dennis thinks that his jailing, astronomical bail, and the Kangaroo Court that ensued was Godzilla's response to Dennis's failure to take the money and fold the operation. At least $50 million of that bribe would have been mine, but none of us (Dennis, Mr. Professor, me) would have been tempted in the slightest. Dealing with the devil never turns out too well, as far as I have seen.

Dennis has openly admitted that there was plenty that he never told me, and some of his secrecy games really ended up costing me, and is one reason why I insist on complete transparency for my current effort. No anonymity, no secrecy, etc. Those tactics are antithetical to manifesting the biggest event in the human journey and the Epoch it can initiate. But I digress.

I had not yet left town when Dennis was arrested, so I attended the initial bail hearing and heard Mr. Prosecutor spout her lies so fast that it left my head spinning. I had to get out of town, and the six weeks that I was away were full of momentous events that I missed, and I am kind of happy that I missed them. Mr. Professor, however, bore the brunt of them. Dennis was arrested in late June 1988, and by August, Dennis's wife and children were taken in by Mr. Professor, and they ended up living there for nearly two years. Dennis himself lived there for about a year after he miraculously escaped jail. But I get ahead of myself.

I was hiking in the Cascade Mountains, trying to recover, Dennis's wife was desperately trying to raise Dennis's bail, and Mr. Texas made his move. My future wife put up her home as bail collateral, but in Kangaroo Court, the restrictions they made would have ensured that Bill Gates could not have posted bail. Like so many areas like this, people really need to see it to believe it. I wish I had a dollar for every time one of Dennis's lawyers would say, "They can't do that!" as the judges handed down one Kangaroo Court ruling after another. The laws are not worth the paper they are printed on when evil-minded people enforce them, especially when they are being handsomely paid by Godzilla for their evil deeds. Those kinds of people line up with their hands out, without the merest glimmer of conscience. "Work for the forces of evil? Hmmm, what does it pay?" That is the motto of people such as Bill the BPA Hit Man, Mr. Deputy, and Mr. Texas. But I get ahead of myself.

After a month gone, my future wife said that she missed me, and I retrieved my meager belongings from my grandmother's basement, which I stored when I chased Dennis out to Boston, and I rolled into our office parking lot, just as Mr. Texas and his dupes closed the company's doors, for one of the key awakening moments of my journey, when I refused to believe that Mr. Engineer and Mr. Researcher could go to work for Mr. Texas. I then drove over the Mr. Professor's home, and he had been shaken up by all that had happened, and when he asked me if I thought that Dennis was a good guy, my heart nearly broke. I spent an hour telling him what I thought was happening, and subsequent events proved that I was 100% correct. After Mr. Professor heard me out, he said that he just wanted to hear what I had to say, and that he had already decided to support Dennis, which may have been the most fateful decision of his life. His support for Dennis wrecked his life and sent him to an early grave, but again I get ahead of myself.

In the morning, I will continue the tale.

Best,

Wade