Following A Star

Amelia Earhart started the year with the first solo flight from Hawaii to California in January. Beer was canned in the United States for the first time in the same year. The no-fly zone over the White House went into effect while Franklin D. Roosevelt was putting the finishing touches on the New Deal’s 3 Rs: Relief, Recovery and Reform. Social Security was born and, in December, so too was my father, Aaron Martin. Within his life time, many of the technical barriers that were surmounted in his natal year have been vaporized. So it is slightly ironic that 76 years later, on this day, FDR’s Social Security and New Deal – in their modern form – are as ill-advised as they were when they were born. In his nomination acceptance speech, Roosevelt was indistinguishable from politicians today – same rhetoric and same empty logic.

“There are two ways of viewing the Government's duty in matters affecting economic and social life. The first sees to it that a favored few are helped and hopes that some of their prosperity will leak through, sift through, to labor, to the farmer, to the small business man. That theory belongs to the party of Toryism, and I had hoped that most of the Tories left this country in 1776.”

“But it is not and never will be the theory of the Democratic Party. This is no time for fear, for reaction or for timidity. Here and now I invite those nominal Republicans who find that their conscience cannot be squared with the groping and the failure of their party leaders to join hands with us; here and now, in equal measure, I warn those nominal Democrats who squint at the future with their faces turned toward the past, and who feel no responsibility to the demands of the new time, that they are out of step with their Party.”

“In the years before 1929 we know that this country had completed a vast cycle of building and inflation; for ten years we expanded on the theory of repairing the wastes of the War, but actually expanding far beyond that, and also beyond our natural and normal growth. Now it is worth remembering, and the cold figures of finance prove it, that during that time there was little or no drop in the prices that the consumer had to pay, although those same figures proved that the cost of production fell very greatly; corporate profit resulting from this period was enormous; at the same time little of that profit was devoted to the reduction of prices. The consumer was forgotten. Very little of it went into increased wages; the worker was forgotten, and by no means an adequate proportion was even paid out in dividends--the stockholder was forgotten.”

“And, incidentally, very little of it was taken by taxation to the beneficent Government of those years.”

“What was the result? Enormous corporate surpluses piled up-- the most stupendous in history. Where, under the spell of delirious speculation, did those surpluses go? Let us talk economics that the figures prove and that we can understand. Why, they went chiefly in two directions: first, into new and unnecessary plants which now stand stark and idle; and second, into the call-money market of Wall Street, either directly by the corporations, or indirectly through the banks.”

Anybody up for occupying something or somewhere? We could, in this moment, conclude that within my father’s life, we have done little to advance our state of affairs. And if you want to come to that conclusion, you can look at this weekend’s failed WTO intransigence where the zombie Doha-round still refuses to die.

However, if you’d rather not find yourself beset with the hopelessness of our long-bankrupt sense of socio-economic advancement evidenced by a life-time or more of redundant colossal inequities and injustice punctuated by ill-advised wars promulgated in the name of freedom to promote our infantile, imperial quest for the resources stewarded by others, than there’s a lesson in the stars that merits telling in advance of nativities and Persian astrologers.

I was standing in the morning sun at Zama – the Mayan walled city misnamed by the Spaniards Tulum when mistaking the Mayan word for “wall” as the name for the city – taking in the another deep drink from the cenote of wisdom that punctuates the Yucatán. My love affair with the legacy of the Inca, Maya, and Aztec is directly attributable to my father’s amazing life and his most enduring Muse – his love for the heavens. Throughout most of his life (and all of mine) my Dad has stood under night skies in wide-eyed amazement peering into the expansive astral canopy. As a college teacher, he transmitted his transcendent love for the heavens to thousands of students. While I’m incapable of anything but casual observations of a few planets and a handful of constellations, there is no night sky that doesn’t immediately transport me to my amazing Dad. My father, like the Mayans who built their great temples and observatories, understands something that neither FDR nor any current occupant of either the White House nor the halls of Congress can comprehend. And it struck me, standing on the cliffs perched atop the crystal blue water of the Caribbean Sea, that I owe much of my capacity for insight to that thing that both seem to embody and teach. Namely, that to understand a thing, you need to put yourself in the right place removed from the pollution of human illumination, understand your role as a participating observer, and take in knowledge through triangulation.

Let’s unpack this a bit more. First, finding the right place. Many ethno-sensitive historians postulate that the Mayan’s valued astronomy and mathematics – including quite critically, geometry – as much, if not more, than most other human civilizations. Their fanatic obsession with time – not our petty hours or Gregorian days and years – was to insure their participation in the rhythm of the universe. Understanding when to plant, when to harvest, when storms may be coming, when eclipses warranted the revitalization of sacred myths. To inculcate knowledge into millennial records, they built temples and erected stones to illumine with the equinoxes and solstices thereby mapping the dance of the heavens INTO their everyday lives. Rather than trying to enclose nature to serve them, they placed themselves IN nature to live at a cosmologically appropriate scale. It wasn’t lamps and torches that lit their path to knowledge – it was the celestial keepers of time and seasons.

The Mayans, like my Dad, did not wait for someone to tell them the mysteries of the world. They ground stones, polished rock, understood optics, and undertook massive civil engineering projects – like my Dad hand grinding his first telescope mirror at his farm in Pennsylvania – so that they could actively participate in observation. Over the past 76 years, and notably, in the past 76 days of discontent about the injustice of our economy, how few have actually engaged in UNDERSTANDING what’s really going on? We know that there’s something amiss but we complain about being neglected rather than engaging in deep understanding about the systems that impact our lives.

And finally, all wayfarers, both then and now, understand that confidence comes through triangulation – not through the careless observation of a single point. In her amazing work with island navigators of the Pacific, Elizabeth Kapu'uwailani Lindsey was taught the synthesis of multiple factors including stars, horizon lights at dawn and dusk, wave patterns, the movement of living things and the sounds of the water during her sojourn in Satawal with some of the esteemed remnants of our world’s wisdom keepers. Like their Mayan counterparts, they knew that hunches could be birthed by individual impulses but navigation required the integration of multiple perspectives. My Dad and Mom lugged their troop of young sons to the great Aztec pyramids for the total solar eclipse in 1970 to experience the 3 minutes 28 seconds of darkness in which we learned so much about light. Climbing Teotihuacán’s steps (many of which were as tall as me), some ancient spirit must have pulled my still beating heart out of my chest and replaced it with a passion for as much breadth of experience as any life could hold. Throughout my life, my Dad and Mom invested heavily in literally moving us around and – in so doing – gave us a world of vantage points from which to triangulate our course through life. We would all do well, should we wish to Form A More Perfect Union, to get out of our myopic redundant environments and embrace perspectives as divergent as possible. In so doing, we just might find our way.

Happy Birthday Dad! Thank you for teaching me so many tools to navigate a path through life. And, by the way, Happy Anniversary tomorrow, Colleen. One more year until our quarter century and – just think, that’ll be on the eve of the Mayan’s 2012! Here’s to the return of the winged serpent!

Hey Buddy, Can You Spare Buffett a Buck?

a.k.a. Why Warren reminds me of my mom

a.k.a. Congressional Bribes Suck


In the early 1970s, I remember my mom and dad debating whether we should fill up our car’s gas tank for $0.33 a gallon or drive a little further because the price might be $0.31. At the time, we were driving an American-made gas guzzler that would have had a curb weight of well over 3,000 lbs – not including the six occupants. During this time, my dad was an employee of the State of California and as such, a family of six living on a teacher’s salary in California did not push you over the poverty line very far so saving a few cents here and there made sense. Then, as now, food & gas – the products where most families spend much of their income – didn’t count in the CPI calculations and that wouldn’t much matter anyway.

This past week, while President Obama was extolling the financial merits of extending the Bush-era tax reductions on the much ballyhooed ‘middle class’, media outlets were reprising Warren Buffett’s ‘tax the wealthy’ faux challenge. Democrats and Republicans were exchanging barbs across the aisle trying to figure out who can pander to an electorate who has, since the installation of the Bush-era financial accountability deferral malfeasance of 1992 (complete with over 70 targeted tax breaks), evidenced a willingness to sell out the country for an extra $1 thousand bucks of somebody else’s money. Whether it is saving a few bucks at the pump in the 70s, getting a few bucks back on tax returns at the expense of the nation’s economy, or saving a few bucks at Wal-Mart, the single worst enterprise that has hit the consumption universe since humans evolved opposable thumbs, or at Buffett’s Dollar General, we seem to think that ‘a deal’ is something to which we’re entitled regardless of how that ‘deal’ came into being. For some reason, the generation born between 1930 and the Baby Boom, seems to share a rather extraordinary post-Depression frugal sense of acausal, synchronistic entitlement that seems to be resurging of late.

Which leads me to consider why Warren Buffett reminds me of my mom. It seems that both are eager to look for a deal. It seems that both are willing to consider a sense of shared responsibility in which there is room for generosity within a frugal self-discipline – both of them are extraordinarily willing to use their resources to help numerous others. By the way, whether it’s my mom’s work with Habitat for Humanity and similar causes, her tireless volunteerism or Warren’s philanthropic gestures (to say nothing for the generosity he’s encouraged in his children), I find this attribute most admirable and inspiring. And, while moderately aware that there are structural forces at play that make the system appear to be unsustainable, both seem to operate with a perspective that frankly puzzles the heck out of me. How on the one hand can social awareness be relatively high while consequence is so illusive? My parents work with future homeowners to build houses for the marginalized or under-employed – many of them displaced laborers who lost their jobs when U.S. manufacturing was sent overseas – yet they can still extol the merits of frugal shopping at the very stores that drove the production overseas. Warren can call for a tax on the rich to have ‘everyone pay their share’ yet Berkshire Hathaway’s largest public equity holdings are rife with corporations that are optimized for U.S. tax avoidance. Once financial resources are in their respective hands, they both do great things. But there seems to be a missing puzzle piece between frugal stewardship and the macro-system that is expanding economic imbalance at a remarkable pace.

In October 1973, during the U.S. airlift arming the Israelis during the Yom Kippur War in a program known as Operation Nickle Grass, OPEC countries decided to impose an oil embargo. They did so because they knew that Americans had become complacent with bloated oil supplies. To shock America into realizing the folly of its airlift, they reasoned, they’d discontinue or greatly curtail the supply of oil. Mind you, the Nixon Administration’s departure from the Bretton Woods Gold Standard accord had already added plenty of instability into the OPEC countries. Neither the Israeli-policy nor the oil-dependency lesson was learned. Part of the reason for this educational failure was due to the simple fact that Americans then, as now, live in remarkable ignorance of the interdependencies that support the supply chain for our consumptive excess. And while, for political expediency we decided to rename the Anglo-Persian Oil Company to the more palatable British Petroleum or BP by the end of the 70s because a certain friendly someone was no longer giving away his country’s wealth for the benefit of a few investors, we didn’t get more aware as a society.

Now, Warren Buffett’s Berkshire Hathaway has done well holding a big chunk of Exxon. And his Exxon holdings have, in a significant fashion, contributed to a modern political quagmire in Papua New Guinea where Exxon’s LNG program has fed on government corruption, forced community dislocation, and this week’s political unrest. Warren can be indifferent to this as he lives in Omaha – far from the people he’s raiding. And my mom is working to help take care of some of the Exxon displaced persons – corporate refugees. And for that effort, I salute her. But, until we realize that it is our duty as human beings to understand the cost WE place on this planet – including the mini lottery winnings we get from slashed prices and discounts – we’ll have more corporate refugees needing water in PNG and houses in Georgia and North Carolina.

Which leads me to my extreme disappointment in Congress. First of all, millionaires don’t create jobs, so enough with the blatant lies about tax breaks getting people employed. You want to buy votes from your constituents and donors. That’s fine but call it what it is. You want the “Silent Generation” and their Baby Boom and Generation X off-spring to fall for a few shekels when we all know that we’re already fiscally bankrupt. News flash… we know that opaque consumption got us into this mess. While your pandering may work for card-carrying AARP members, there are millions of us that are not suckered into your illusion so shape up. Why don’t you have the courage to stand up and tell us that the country is broke, that entitlements will be raided and curtailed, and that without a return to productivity, we’ll all be worse off than we were in 1973? Let all the Bush-era cuts expire. Starting with your own appropriations, start paying the country’s bills and ask us all to do our part.

And, Warren, here’s a better suggestion that would show that you care about this country. Why don’t you make an investment policy that mandates that EVERY Berkshire Hathaway public equity investment is predicated on insuring that no off-shoring of assets or revenues evade one dollar of legal tax collection or tax liability. You see, once the money gets to you, it doesn’t make that much of a difference. But if you had the courage to encourage corporations to build wealth (and have it taxed) in the U.S., you could really make a difference. So there it is – are you part of the Silent Generation or can you find the audacity to defy the odds and call for accountability where profiteering has enriched you?

Dark Matter Generation – Faster than the Speed of Light into Infinite Mass

Maybe it was waking up early this morning and looking out over the frigid Wasatch Mountains dusted with a thin layer of snow on my bride’s birthday. Maybe it was contemplating heliocentricity’s bitter struggle with incumbent knowledge that held the Earth and Man at the core of created order. Maybe it was my compulsive accounting that accompanies the end of each Gregorian succession in which I assess the consequence of my actions and inactions – for good, indifference, or ill – as I observe the temporal serpent consume its tail only to reemerge in the coming of the new cycle.

I can’t put my finger on what centered my first thought this morning but I certainly know what it was. I want you all to know about my friend, Michael Richardson-Borne. I met Michael one late afternoon in Los Angeles as I was preparing for a presentation at a nameless, faceless convention center. Together with his friend (and now a friend of mine) Jeff Bellsey, he came to eke out a brief meeting sandwiched between my frenetic schedule. For some time before our meeting, Michael had been struggling to rationalize his impulse to convene a massive celebration of humanity’s potential – what he called ‘Summer of Heart’ – with the Hydra of monetary sponsorship. How, he asked, can you call forth transformation without giving up the soul of the impulse for the demands of funders? In a series of e-mails and phone calls, I offered little solace. Instead, I asked him to acknowledge his life’s abundance at the time he had the impulse to create ‘Summer of Heart’ and, rather than looking for the illusive ‘other’ resources, honor those that were in his path when the idea first coalesced. Rather than hearing a rejection for his vision, Michael set out on a journey that will be a vital part of our collective story. And his story is…, well, his. But what he’s stewarding is ours. And it’s that piece that draws my attention.

Michael has launched The Renaissance Project. This initiative invites the flirtatious floral impulses of the 60s into the gritty digital interconnected world. Hosting a venue for borderless voices to share creativity, art, and humanity, he has transformed his event-based artifact into a utility for global creative engagement. In short, Michael found that, in reflecting on his first impulse, his destiny in the moment of inspired animation was less about the muscle and more about the blood. After all, the heart, while getting entirely too much emotional attention, is important. But, its importance is manifest by delivering the vital oxygen and nutrients to the active cells throughout the body. In our effort to awaken humanity to its higher potential, our medieval impulse is to focus on the center of power – the contracting, driving muscle. However, the awakening now, as it was in the 14th century, was the decentralized exchanges that took place by those red blood cells that traveled to the furthest reaches and returned knowledge nutrients to the mind of Europe, then seated in Italy.

The lexicon of The Renaissance Project is a treasure-trove of wisdom. There are three terms that have ‘shown up’ in Michael’s project that I’d like to highlight for deeper consideration.

First, in his introductory video, Michael speaks of ‘Generation’. Now here’s a shock. According to the frenetic cultural anthropologists, a bizarre Moore’s Law acceleration has happened which has allegedly separated Michael and me by THREE generations. Oh, for the nostalgic Dark Ages days when generations were at least 20 to 30 years! This made me reflect on the birth of the term generation (no pun intended). “Generation” was first used in the transition from Old English to Middle English in the 13th century. Derived from the Latin generatio which meant ‘to bring forth’ or ‘to birth’, the notion that generation was a term to divide groups was introduced around the same time that our current view of humans being time-limited production assets was born. In the spirit of reclaiming Michael’s impulse, here’s one 60’s baby that is standing shoulder to shoulder with the age agnostic to call for the ‘bringing forth’ of a new story. Taken together with Joshua Gorman’s passionate efforts in Generation Waking Up, Todd Goldfarb’s Worldwide Tipping Point, Dori, Emily, Dustin… the extended family of the San Francisco guild, I see phenomenal potential rising from the erasure of time as a unit of division but rather as a utility of perspective and wisdom.

Second, I’m intrigued by the reclamation of the concept of Renaissance. There is no philosopher that more embodied the polymath of the Italian social movement than Pico della Mirandola, author of the courageous De hominis dignitate in 1486. Della Mirandola, unlike the artists who sold their creative souls for the patronage of the banking and clergy elites, had the audacity to stand before the establishment of the Church and boldly proclaim that both Mosaic and Christian teaching, along with Persian, Greek and ‘ancient’ theologies, all showed that humanity had the potential for inspired greatness. While I encourage all readers to taste the wisdom of this amazing mind and orator, I am struck, in particular, with the following passage in which an Italian philosopher tries to explain to conceited intellectuals of his time wisdom that defied their intellects:
“…the magic of Zoroaster is nothing else than that science of divine things in which the kings of the Persians had their sons educated to that they might learn to rule their commonwealth on the pattern of the commonwealth of the universe.”
For any of us from any period in time to actually find our higher purpose, we must realize that it is in the synthesis of wisdom that the seeds of cultural awakening germinate. Renaissance, then, is a companion to Generation. What Michael is offering is the birthing room for a reawakening – a remembering of that which humanity has known, understood, and for far too long, forgotten.

Third – and my personal favorite – he describes members of his community of artists and contributors as ‘Seers’. There is the witness aspect of this term – one who sees and documents – which is as vital to the Arab Spring and the OWS movement as it was to the Civil Rights marches, Kent State, and the etchings of the Martyrs Mirror. But, beneath the surface, a seer is far more than a witness. From Nostradamus to the Patriarch Joseph in Egypt, the ability to receive prophetic impulses and share them in a manner that can be seen and understood is a human trait that is sorely needed in our time. Ironically, in our post-modern science induced stupor, we can marvel at birds that change their flight patterns in advance of tsunami. We can accept that indigenous traditions can move in advance of volcanic eruptions by divining signals from nature. But we have become so digitally addicted that we’ve lost our powers of observation in the infinite orthogonality of the cosmosystem in which we live. A Seer is not an oddity. Rather a Seer is a soul unencumbered by consensus optics – someone or something that can perceive and communicate that to which others are willfully or culturally blinded.

I honor Michael for a host of reasons. First, he chose to Act. Emboldened by an impulse to follow his passion provisioned by the Abundance that was in his ecosystem, he rallied people, resources and passion around his vision and it became reality. Second, having been despondent after chasing financing for an artifact of an event, he found out that this phase of his journey needed HIM, not somebody else’s money. Few modern, young entrepreneurs have the capacity to untether their vision from the incipient paralysis associated with ‘funding’. Finally, as evidenced in the care with which he’s constructed the language and the framework for The Renaissance Project, he’s giving us all navigational cues so that we can find the song that sings us home…. (Thanks, Elizabeth and the elders for that one!).

Pie à la mode

Before I digress into this week’s post, I must settle one of the great questions plaguing humanity for millennia (or at least for a few weeks). If you are having pecan pie, it is acceptable to serve it warmed with vanilla ice cream. If you’re really pretentious, you can make that vanilla bean ice cream. If you are serving grape pie warm, you can go with either vanilla ice cream or whipped cream. However, if you are serving grape pie room temperature or cool, than whipped cream is the only acceptable topping. And, let’s face it, pecan pie was made to be served warm so don’t even think about serving it cold with whipped cream. That’s simply not the way nature intended it! Grape pie clearly beats pecan pie when it comes to versatility but, don’t deduce from this empirical truth a judgment against pecan pie because, when served correctly, pecan pie is down right transcendent. If you want to access the sanctum sanctorum of my incarnation, add some dark chocolate chips into the pecan pie and I sublimate into pure white light – ice cream, whipped cream, at that moment, both are merely inconsequential annoyances to my state of bliss.

Which brings me to my digression for this week. In the midst of the festivities over the Thanksgiving holiday, I was inundated with four orthogonal fragments of the ghoulish mosaic of our current economic system. They came, as the geometric statistical metaphor suggests, from seemingly uncorrelated worlds but all converged on Thanksgiving Day.

First, I had the opportunity to peruse a series of videos recorded a few weeks ago at Zuccotti Park during the ‘occupy’ phase of Occupy Wall Street. Juxtaposing the video of voices of Occupites with the Department of Homeland Security’s impulse to ‘protect’ our social order from harmless people united by their generalized sense of disenfranchisement reminded me of the lunacy of Magistrates John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin, the presiding judges that launched the Salem Witch pogrom. For the record, the Obama Administration’s henchmen, operating in concert with mayors across the U.S. is, at present, as pathetic as the ‘adults’ who turned petty childish vendettas into justification for capital punishment in 1692.

Against this backdrop, I was intrigued by the accounts of schisms in the Occupy movement around financial transparency. Apparently, the very group that sought to hold the “1%” culpable for their collective anguish, when organizing to confront injustice, scarcely made it one fiscal quarter before confronting their own autogenously generated financial inequality.

Concurrently, I was being repeatedly contacted by a number of short traders who wanted to use information provided by my company to out one of the more egregious public equity frauds of late. A company grossly misrepresenting its patent position to defend a market that will be energized by consumer electronics titans seeking to sate the appetite of the mobile device-addicted market is, at best, making misleading statements and, at worst, lying. Best of all, the SEC turned a blind eye as the company was allowed to issue a redacted securities filing from which ALL material information was deleted.

And finally, on the day that a mining license to one of the world’s largest metals deposits expired, a representative of the company’s European shareholder’s groups decided that, rather than engaging the landowners in a civil discourse about ways to develop mineral resources with some sense of equity, the best strategy was to sit in the Principality of Andorra and berate people half a world away for their desire to educate themselves about the capital markets. This group, officially endorsed by the chairman of the non-operating mining interest, is currently conducting a poll on its website to support a Chinese takeover of the mining operation while publicly suggesting that they have the interests of the local communities foremost in their consideration.

Which brings me to my opening point. In a zero sum, thermodynamic world, one participant’s gain is precisely offset by losses (or reductions) to all other positions. In short, the bigger piece of pie – in this case, pecan – I choose to eat, the less pie is available for all others. In the ‘ideal case’ of this proposition – the Nash Equilibrium in which choices made by one is the ‘best’ when taking into account all choices each other party will make – there are two assumptions. First, there’s an assumption of scarcity and finitude. In short, there are only a defined number of options for slicing the pie and there’s no more pie. Second, and Nash simply improved on Cournot’s oligopoly theories over one hundred years earlier, that the distribution of possible responses is a modelable set of conditions. But undermining both Nash and Cournot is the greater threat – namely the potential that neither the model nor the presumed actors have ‘perfect’ information in which case the game, model, and equilibrium are all useless.

When one steps back from my four cases of entities all seeking their ‘piece of the pie’ that is, in their illusion, fair, just, or equivalent, one can readily discern the spoiler in each of these cases. Not only do all the parties in the Nash Games suffer from imperfect information but in each instance, all actors are willfully abusing known information asymmetry to imbalance the equilibrium. Whether it’s the Department of Homeland Security missing the obviousness of their club wielding law & order minions (by the way, have I taken a ‘long’ position AECOM, Atkins, BAE, Booz Allen Hamilton, CACI Federal, CH2MHILL, CSC, Fluor, General Dynamics, IBM, ICF, ITT, L-3, Lockheed Martin, Microsoft, Northrop Grumman, SAIC, Boeing, Unisys, and Wackenhut – some of the proud American and European companies that are arming our “Crisis Response” units) or short sellers seeking to monetize the outing of a public equity fraud, keeping someone in the dark long enough to prey upon fear seems to be the best bet around. And, in true Inverted Alchemy form, the bigger point is simple. When actions rely on fear and information asymmetry to propagate a message that transacts monetary benefit to the message holder, there is no instance where this is morally or practically justified. More importantly, one of the oldest standards in contract law is that this action is not just reprehensible: in Common Law, duress renders a contract voidable.

Which brings me to the Common Defense. We The People have been parties to countless contracts that were entered into under duress. Under the threat of scarcity and violent reprisals, we’ve been asked to forfeit our humanity in the name of ‘Security’. Contract voidable. In the name of rising against economic tyranny, we’ve organized ourselves around a debt-based currency system that is illiquid and degrading in value. Contract voidable. In the name of fairness, we have relied on oversight agencies like the SEC to mandate transparency for public companies – an unmitigated disaster in confidence and performance. Contract voidable. And, when no longer capable of confronting our colonial tyranny, we seek to pawn our interests off on the Chinese after which we will deride them for the abuses we have initiated. Contract voidable. We The People are NOT helpless victims of a manipulative system. As long as we aspire to being the one holding the knife that’s cutting the pie, WE are the problem. It’s time that we step away from this Euclidean flatland illusion and take our role as the makers of pies – not merely their consumers.

One Foot In the Grave

“What on Earth Will It Take” is a question posed by a recent film produced and released by Foster and Kimberly Gamble. It’s the question paralyzing so many these days. Institutional and private money managers are beyond caring about return. They just want to know if a currency is going to be around tomorrow, next week, or next month. Unemployed and under-employed hear politicians tell them to get a job as though that’s a novel idea that hadn’t occurred to them as they were out golfing at the club. Peace activists call for an end to the military and the industrial complex feeding its yawning jaws while offering no solution to the fact that such an end would expand unemployment by over 20%. Occupites demand equitable economic power distribution without realizing that the object of their derision (albeit many would love a bit more money in their own pockets) is but one tired illusion in the overall scheme of wealth.

Tragically, the solutions that are promoted – End the Fed; Cut the Military; Shrink Government; Stimulate Employment – all are both structurally ill-conceived and untenably amorphous to the point of convincing many to give up because there’s nothing that an individual can do. Beyond the obvious impotence felt by the average citizen when encouraged to dismantle vaunted institutions, these suggestions are so outlandish that they actually lessen the resolve of individuals to engage in transformative acts. More egregiously, these recommendations are utilizing the very Keynesian tools (when fueled by consumerism) that architected our current quagmire.

We don’t need to ‘End the Fed’. We need to discontinue our use and abuse of debt as the primary means of transacting value. Actively promoting geopolitical, social and economic justice reduces our actual and perceived threats. After all, when the Goldman Sachs structured, World Bank-endorsed mineral and energy resource heists lead to sovereign indebtedness and domestic unrest, it’s our 401(k) and investment plans that are fueling the violence. Actually researching the companies into which each of you invest and moving your money from tyranny will disarm more conflicts than any placard-carrying marcher has ever done. When Australian apologists like Papua New Guinea’s Chamber of Mines and Petroleum Executive Director Greg Anderson threaten sovereign officials with lies about “foreign investment” fleeing equitable resource development, where is the Australian government or public outcry for integrity? We need governments that are accountable stewards irrespective of their size. Stimulating employment perpetuates the illusion of a humanity that is fodder for Adam Smith’s productivity illusion. We need purposeful, productive engagement – not anonymous ‘employment’. The inflated illusion of employment fueled property accumulation as a proxy for ‘successful development’ has enslaved the masses to enrich the few.

This blog has been my Sisyphean quest for years to open minds and inquiry into unconsidered topics. Through these posts, I’ve shone the light on several topics that require expanded awareness and action. However none is more important, more central to the core of our systemic crisis than the one that has evaded the attention of most if not all of my readers. And so, while I could expand on all of the topics above ad nauseum, I’m going to take another stab at what I see as the root of our problem – our fear of Death.

Now, having just dismissed ending the Fed or eliminating the military industrial complex as too big a bite to chew without the benefit of Dr. Heimlich, many of you probably just recoiled with the existential impossibility of tackling fear of death. Some of you are probably shouting, “Actually, I think I’ll work on the dismantling of the Fed as that’s more doable than Dave’s silly notion.” You may be right. But hear me out before you jump to that conclusion.

I’m not referring to the cosmological pretzel that enshrouds the hereafter, the there-before, or the ‘whatever’. I’m specifically referring to an innovation that was created by a bunch of cheap Protestant Christians (and I am circumspect of maligning the term with a capital “C”) in the 18th century who decided to force clergy to call their own bluff by taking smaller salaries in life with the assurance that a ‘widows and orphans’ fund would be established to care for their loved ones after they were ‘called up yonder’. This ecumenical poker bluff lead to the creation of life insurance. Not by accident, the collusion between the hell-fire preachers of the post-Civil War revival heartland and the emergence of life insurance was a match made in…, well, let’s see. What’s the adage? “By their fruits you shall know them.” And it was Life Insurance – yes that ‘investment’ you are encouraged to make so that you don’t stiff your family in death with your over-expenditures and indebtedness in life – that was the DIRECT JUSTIFICATION and ANIMATING MANDATE for the creation of the Federal Reserve.

As I’ve pointed out on many occasions, 30 year debt, the hallmark of our debt currency, was thusly termed not because a Charlton Heston character descended from a mountain with tablets engraved with this sacred duration. No, 30 years was the productive life expectancy of a laborer for whom life insurance was justification to swindle people’s income to line the pockets of folks in New York and Connecticut. And, since the ‘risk’ of insuring had an actuarial table that expired with your productive life – 30 years – an inventory of investments needed to be created to park the money. It’s no accident that the founding shareholders of Reserve Corporation were LIFE INSURERS, not solely the exclusive, shadowy, nefarious New World Order bankers (sorry to all the Rothschild Bank of England provocateurs) so many seem to think are at the root of the tree of the knowledge of evil. Mind you, I’m not suggesting that there aren’t overlaps in ‘interlocking directorates’ as they were called but, let’s face it. It would make more sense to ‘Occupy’ Greenwich, CT and Metropolitan Life than it would to harass Wall Street brokers with over-priced lattes. And who is calling out the brokers of pre-destination and its evil demonic minion, eternal damnation? Oh, now did I cross a line with that one? You bet I did and it’s a line that few are willing to discern but many more ought to cross.

You see, if you really want to unravel the noose that is choking our collective economic order, you start by confronting your life… and your death. If you don’t accumulate vast indebtedness, life insurance is largely irrelevant. Yes, this means that you start living (uh oh, here it comes) within your means. If you don’t fall for the siren seduction of ‘tax-deferred pensions’ – that lovely managed account that has lost MORE VALUE being mismanaged by ‘professionals’ than your tax bill could have ever mustered – and actually invest in yourself, your community, and enterprises that you endorse and support, you will find that your present and future are both understandable and manageable. In short, if you simply step into a relationship with your life that doesn’t presume that responsible stewardship means outsourcing your end of life and death you’ll notice a few very important, system altering things. The U.S. Treasury and Fed will have a diminished role. Your investments will follow your values and, in many instances, these will be less likely to support anonymous human rights abuses and injustice that support tyranny and violence. Your communities will become places where your engagement and that of your fellow citizens will reflect your values. And, you just may find that more people find purposeful engagement where their livelihoods are linked to their contribution to value being provided – actual productivity measured with all the dimensionality of integral accounting.

Putting your debt based currency into a credit union is not going to change the world. For the record, your deposit in Wells Fargo or BofA was booked by them as their liability and they weren’t deploying it anyhow. They didn’t use it and holding it for you was not the source of their profits. And, as I’ve reported on numerous occasions, the FDIC is neither insurance nor funded so your money wasn’t safe. Re-aligning your life insurance premium into investments in credit unions, community banks or enterprises aligned to values you hold will actually change your world and THE WORLD. Falling for the tax-deferred illusion will not stabilize your future. It will enrich those who are currently failing to outperform indexes. Investing (money, time, knowledge, technology, commodities, and culture) in communities – both at home and abroad – will render annuities and indices far less relevant. And, by the way, you may not leave hordes for future generations. Guess what? They’ll gain something that few of us have: evidence that humanity can wrestle itself back from the throes of collective destruction. And that, my friends, is something we can all start doing today. We may have to amputate the gangrenous limbs that have atrophied beyond repair, but better that than follow our feet into our insured and certain grave.

Shakespeare at Zuccotti Park

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.


Yellow leaves swirled in the breeze blowing around the corner of 180 Maiden Lane. The midday sun reflecting off the gilded façade sharpened the color as they blew past the blank windows and unkempt glass. Ten years ago, this monument to innovation in structured finance and risk management bustled with Asian, European, and American businessmen all paying call to the court. The nobles, clad only in the consensus of their exalted state (yes, read, the emperor has no…) deigned accommodation to the obeisance paid at their doors while holding the masses in total contempt. Today, only the last tenacious leaves rose to the upper levels of the tower whose grandeur suffered the fate of Clarence in Shakespeare’s Richard III.

Walking up Maiden Lane from the Hudson River where once women and young girls passed to launder the household linens for the houses and vestries on the southern tip of Manhattan, I was overwhelmed by the absence of any human form. This country lane, marked and paved in the dawn of the 18th century once carried the ropes, tackle and stones from privateer ships to raise the form of Trinity Church. The irony that this lane would be honored to bear the name of the New York Federal Reserve’s toxic mortgage and credit default financial frauds – the legacy of Bear Stearns forced rescue by JP Morgan and AIG’s collapse hospiced with billions of dollars of tax payer funds – was not lost on me. Remarkably, in the winter of discontent just a few blocks away at Zuccotti Park not a single Occupite seemed to have an answer for my question as to why banks and traders have earned their collective wrath while the actual structural source of greatest wealth misappropriation is occupied only by a few autumn leaves.

For the past several weeks I have been advised by many friends, colleagues, and advocates, that the Occupy effort is evidence of a humanity waking up. I am certain that, in the midst of the tents, signs, and drum circles there are endangered voices that actually seek to call attention to substance over the cacophony of generalized discontent. However, from San Francisco to New York, I am convinced of one thing more than any other. Occupy Wall Street and its massing throngs are providing vociferous outlets for dissatisfaction while the actual perpetrators go untouched. Rather than ‘waking up’ what I’ve observed is a perpetuation of illiteracy that is nothing short of staggering.

Walking up to a young man who held a sign nostalgically extolling the virtues of Glass-Steagall Act (an Act whose date he couldn’t recall and which he acknowledged never reading despite his printed insistence on bringing it back), I asked him why he was advocating for broader powers for the Federal Reserve. Which part of the currency provisions or rediscounting government and commercial debt was he advocating? He looked at me in complete bewilderment. He and several other Occupites ‘knew’ that this Act’s return would wedge depository banks and investment banking activities apart. And, having explained to him the actual effect of the 1932 and 1933 legislative efforts of Senators Carter Glass (D-VA) and Henry Steagall (D-AL), he responded, “I never knew what this meant,” and then proceeded to walk away, text a message into his iPhone and then move comfortably away before re-hoisting his sign.

Here’s the Shakespearean irony: the young man is pretty sure that something is wrong. He’s right. But calling for an Act that set in motion many of the actual problems which have enabled the greatest wealth transfer in the world’s recorded history leading to the greatest financial resource disparity (still burgeoning with each drumbeat at the Park) is like asking the Inquisitor for extra wood at the stake. Responding to the reflex of injustice without taking the time (or having the attention span to understand the root of injustice) not only perpetrates greater abuse but allows the perpetrators to persist in anonymity. In short, mass uprisings in ignorance are NOT indicators of positive social change. We don’t need ‘ideas’ for organizing – we need in-depth inquiry and financial literacy. In our faux embrace of pluralistic catharsis, we’ve created a smoke-screen behind which the actual Machiavellian tragedy plays on.

There is a path to be informed. The system is easily understood. And, as a person working to build a new economic framework, I am convinced that the 99% occupying parks are as connected by and complicit in their ignorance of the system they perceive to be abusing them as their alleged 1% foes. In fact, since the movement started, I’ve found more openness to transformation and creativity among the ‘them’ 1% than I’ve found in the “99%”. Perpetuation of collective ignorance is not enlightenment. We The People must elevate the dialogue, pick up the baskets of soiled linens dumped behind AIG’s Pine Street offices onto Maiden Lane, return to the Hudson, and wash our greed-soiled obliviousness before we’re all taken to the cleaners.

'Occupy' Your Mind

Returning from Salt Lake City to Charlottesville via Chicago provided a suboptimal venue to listen to the audio of Ken Wilber’s interview conducted by my friend Todd Goldfarb (http://worldwidetippingpoint.com/). It turns out that cheap courtesy headphones from a hotel gym have no sound damping value to overpower the engines on a CRJ-700. The good news was that the audio quality was so dreadful that I had to concentrate. So, I sat next to the window, focused on the ground passing below and listened to Ken describe the passage of humanity’s transitions. And it was in the observation of the millions of acres of industrial farmland over which I was passing at 38,000 feet that I settled in on the puzzle that is this week’s InvertedAlchemy: Is it possible to perceive human transformation as a first person actor or are evolutions of consciousness only discerned in retrospect?

Let me provide a bit of background. Todd and Ken were discussing the notion that we’re on the edge of a new inflection of the human experience. This edge is, in part, defined by previous inflections (from archaic to magic to mythic to rational to modern to post-modern to…?), has several particular characteristics that were noteworthy. In his description of the ‘Integral’ transformation, Ken suggested that, in contrast to previous inflections, rather than rejecting past human narratives, a hallmark of this inflection is the explicit inclusion of wisdom and experience from all previous epochs. And, for a moment over Iowa, I found myself trying to reconcile this vision with the reality from which I had just come. You see, I had just been at a board meeting where I had heard representatives from one of New York's leading investment banks talk about the merits of fixed income investments and had heard them discuss the fact that they were encouraging investments in revenue-based instruments – like water – rather than debt issued by cities and counties. After all, they argued, even unemployed poor people have to drink! The neatly groomed fields below me, the echo of merchants peddling water as a safe investment, and Ken all converged in an unholy trinity between Cedar Rapids and Oxford Junction. I can recall the moment. Ken was in the middle of one of his many “never before in human history” generalizations.

Who do we think we are?

We’ve got a real problem. You’ve read me describe – with effusive affection – my respect for Karl Popper on numerous occasions so I will not belabor his criticism of our Occidental hubris again. As I have commented in my recent posts on the Occupy movement, what I find most disturbing about our present consensus delusional state is the intersection of our belief that we access information and our resulting belief that we’re informed.

Has capitalism ‘worked’ when:

1. The largest communist country on earth actually owns a controlling interest in our debt and supplies a considerable amount of our consumables;
2. We have never – since the Land Act of 1820 and the Morrill Act of 1862 to our modern military, technology, and service profit-subsidized government procurements of today – actually had a phase in our nation’s history where we actually had open, unsubsidized free markets; and,
3. Our income distribution and growth is at its all time greatest asymmetry?

Has our social conscience evolved when:

1. Ken Wilber describes our evolution past slavery, for example, at a time when there are more humans (per capita) in slavery today than at any recorded period of history;
2. When we continue to promote 19th century narratives about wisdom traditions ranging from Egypt to Peru to Mongolia without consideration of the possibility that these civilizations actually may have out-engineered our self proclaimed modern marvels; and,
3. When ‘Hope’ and ‘Change’ has led to more remote control assassinations than the notorious Bush / Cheney regime?

It would be lovely to imagine a world in which we would hold ourselves to an abiding commitment that ‘evolution’ would actually involve some notion of improvement. Improvement of the means by which we interact with the Earth. Improvement in the manner in which we engage cultures diverse from our own. Improvement in how we assess the qualities of ourselves and our ecosystem. Improvements in how we engage in dialogue and discourse holding genuine respect for alternative points of view. But, alas, the evidence shows us that we seem to be more drawn to evolution that involves the selective repression of ever larger numbers of voices – voices who have long memories and have alternative views to our own. Is humanity at a tipping point or are we walking past the masses from whom our ignorance has extracted humanity?

The fulcrum around which a real tipping will occur will be discerned when it is set into place by the hands of all tribes, communities, families, and peoples. We’ll know it by their presence – not tell them in their absence.