Green Energy Vortex—-

Money as a Magical Far from Equilibrium Dissipative Structure and the Secret of Turning the Green Energy Blues into a Mountain of Gold Doubloons

copyright 2007 by Jonathan Zap

One of the most obnoxiously persistent themes in so many people lives is money.  For most people the issue is scarcity and right livelihood, but even people with an abundance of money have issues.  A constellation of synchronicities this morning suggested this theme, and some of its inner meanings.

What is money?  Hard to write about something without some working definition of what it is.  Money is essentially a magical artifact, a power object in this World of Warcraft and Consumerism ® in which we live, what I sometimes call The Babylon Matrix ®.  Take out a piece of money and look at it, look at a dollar bill. I’m doing that right now…. oh my god, there are so many spells woven into this , it would take a magnifying glass and a lifetime to begin to unravel all the magical intentions and hidden groups who have woven their wiles into this one artifact with its old world feeling, parchment like paper and layers of archetypal symbolism.  It is alive with budding plants and berries and interwoven with a complex, organic netting that near the top has elongated spirals resembling double helix DNA .  The pyramid with radiant eye speaks for itself, has more layers of occult, magic and power than Gandalf could unravel in the whole Babylon Matrix age of the world.

Money is magic, a highly symbolic artifact woven together by massive intentions of the collective human psyche.  It is a signifier of stored energy, a container of energy as much as a battery or a gas tank contains energy, an ability to do work, to do magic, to make things happen.  With money you can fly in the air to far away lands and possess almost any sort of magical artifact.  With money you can shoot an old man in the face while hunting quail and have him apologize to you on national television.   People will spend most of their lives working for this artifact, so potent is its ability to do work of any sort on the spectrum of light and dark.

Magical artifacts are probably in your pocket right now.  The coins we have, beautifully engraved metal discs, once the coolest form of money, the gold doubloons of pirate treasure, have now become these annoying carnival slugs we have to lug around with us, even though their value is so infinitesimal that you have to debate whether they’re worth the energy  to pick them off the floor.  Pennies, you have long recognized, are made as petty annoyance, a way for the gods of money to laugh at you through petty humiliation, nobody wants them, even stores give them away. Green energy is retreating from coin and paper into the matrix source code world of zeros and ones.

Money is retreating from the clumsy world of macro objects, the world of old school Newtonian physics,  and that’s inevitable, because money is not a thing, not a macro object, it is an energetic process, it is what Ilya Prigogine called a far from equilibrium dissipative structure, like a vortex, like that tiny twisting tornado of scummy water above your bath tub drain, it is an open system and energy must pour into and out of the dissipative structure every moment for the vortex to exist, and that’s what the green energy vortex is, a far from equilibrium dissipative structure kept alive by in and out flows of information, and now you live within that green energy vortex, the engine of that far from equilibrium dissipative structure known as the Babylon Matrix, and as you pass through the matrix, shimmering and pulsating and flowing all about you is green energy, wherever you are on this planet, unless you are in a deep cave of dense stone, money is flowing all around you as information,  wireless signaling, high speed streams of zeros and ones from cell phones, laptops and other of those lesser rings of power, streaming all around you, right through your body, an electro magnetic smog of flowing information, and those flows of  information are always about energetic exchanges—-green energy, green energy plus social, green energy plus sexual, green energy plus S&M sexual, green energy plus politics… Money is energy and information and it is inevitably, as we respirtualize matter with techno magic, reverting to the flow of the source code, that vortex of zeros and ones, and as we recognize money as a flowing stream of zeros and ones it seems all the more painful and unnecessary and grotesque that we can’t just add a few more zeros to that number that represents our momentary monetary status.   Is there a shortage of zeros and decimal places out there?  Galaxies have an average of a hundred billion stars, and some say there are more galaxies out there than grains of sand on this planet. That seems like a helluva lot of energy and material to come out of a point that was once, according to big bang theory, ten orders of magnitude smaller than a gnat’s toenail.  If so much can come out of so little then why in the name of the holy dollar is it so tough to  add just a few zeros or decimal places to that all important green energy status number?  There are megatons of energy locked up in the atomic bonds of one thin dime.  What the hell is bottling up the flow of green energy?

And speaking of absurdly narrow energetic bottle necks, can someone tell me why in the hell, with all our techno magic, we are poisoning this planet by burning fuel so primitive it has chunks of dinosaurs floating in it?   What evil spell of scarcity and victimhood is flowing around us that we haven’t unlocked any of the number of possible ways (hot or cold fusion, scalar waves, zero point, geosynchronous solar collectors beaming vast energies back to earth, etc)  to access huge quantities of free renewable energy?  The science is already there, but the technology hasn’t caught up yet, or isn’t being allowed to catch up.  C’mon you techno magic types—-this should be a cake walk compared to creating the dual core laptop humming away beneath my fingertips as it hovers, wirelessly interacting  with the ever shifting complexity of the world wide web. What could possibly be taking so long?

Aren’t we those magically potent furless monkeys able to tap into the source code of the matrix, able to map DNA , split atoms, create mini black holes in our super collide rs—so why in the hell are we still running on overpriced dinosaur grease that is heating the planet enough to melt the ice caps? Hello? Am I missing something here?   This is freakin’ retarded, we should have tapped into enough energy to be able to heat the highways rather than plowing them.  Where in the hell is my space car that can run for a few thousand years on a ten millionth of a gram of helium 3?  What ever happened to the Jetsons and the whole space age we were promised?  We haven’t even gone back to the moon in more than thirty years, we don’t even have the Concorde anymore—I was expecting the Jetsons, not the Flinstones plus computers, this is just plain stupid and unnecessary.  I don’t even have a lo-tech jet pack.

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Fuel energy bottle neck means green energy bottle neck. The average American has nine thousand dollars of credit card debt, but we should have access to enough free energy that the penny dish on the store counter should be heaped with gold credit cards with a friendly, sexy robot behind the counter encouraging us to take as many as we want while the replicator in the back of the store fabricates our every desire in less time than it takes to sip a cup of Earl Grey tea on the veriform sofa made of a curvilinear aggregation of nanobots reshaping themselves moment by moment to maximize our comfort.

In the Sixties we were told that computers would be so labor-saving that we would be legally required to have five day weekends, but instead Americans are working far longer hours than they ever have, and still staggering, stressed out and medicated, from pay check to pay check, even the middle class version of the American dream starting to seem as remote as the world of Sixties sit-coms.  And even if everyone can’t have that kind of wealth, shouldn’t I, an American baby boomer, be entitled to have a bank balance three or four more decimal points to the right?  Sure, there might still be a continent of starving people somewhere off country orbiting out there in that third world somewhere, but wouldn’t I comprehend the magnitude of that a lot better if I were able to watch the famine unfold on a 70” flat panel plasma monitor?  I should be spending my middle age in my Lucas THX surround sound home theater watching an Inconvenient Truth , not living an inconvenient truth .   So why am I out there, like Fred Flintstone in the stone quarry, battling with the primitive elements for a lousy paycheck, a wage slave who can’t even get all the gadgets that are available right now, let alone the ones promised to me in my youth?

OK, I’m on a rant and I’m probably complaining ten to fifteenth percent more than I should.  I should be more grateful for what I do have, like the expensive high power digital camera I recently acquired, the rugged, weather-sealed magnesium alloy Nikon D 200 with the VR 2 18-200 lens which has second generation motion compensation.  From a more humble stance I should realize that once you have a really expensive digital camera, you have just about everything. When you have a camera that can shoot five 10.2 megapixel images a second in burst mode, it puts things like health and relationships into perspective.  So why am I sweating the small stuff, why do I care about living in an 18’ RV when there are people in fabulous big homes that are still shooting with six megapixel cameras?   I care because I am in my creative prime, and every hour I have to spend working in the stone quarry is an hour I can’t spend working on the growing list of unfinished creative projects.

I am saying all this because I sense that you, the reader, are a shadowy billionaire who feels surrounded by a vague miasma of guilt because of all the morally uncertain means that have allowed you to acquire vast heaps of underutilized treasure,  but in your heart you know that the zaporacle.com  website can absolve you of so many of those heavy sins through the sacrament of Pay Pal donation, and the more you donate, the more sin-absolving sacrament, the more zeros and ones flowing from you into this amazing website and the lighter that leaden albatross of sin around your neck becomes.  Would the sin-absolving release of a few of your ill-gotten zeros and ones into this magical website (you know you like it, you know you want more) be so hard?  There are so many more zeros and ones where those came from, you can afford to release a few back into the wild.  Wouldn’t you rest better at night knowing that even if third world children are working fifteen hours shifts to sew your sneakers, that at least the creator of the Zap Oracle was free to spend all his time crafting new artifacts of zeros and ones for your interactive pleasure?

To paraphrase another great American who stood at the brink of the space age, Ask not what zaporacle.com can do for you, ask what you can do for zaporacle.com. I chose to do this website not because it was easy, but because it was hard, and now, 45 years since Kennedy stood at the brink of the space age, here I am, born exactly two months after the launch of Sputnik, four years old when Kennedy gave his speech about sending a man to the moon and returning him safely to earth, and we are still only on the brink of a space age.  Kennedy did not say return safely to the earth and then go to sleep for thirty-five years, we did that not because it was hard, but because it was easy.  And we still can’t even get a satellite into orbit without launching a twenty story metal tube filled with volatile dinosaur juice.  It’s pathetic, warp core drives are consigned to reruns, we don’t even have new Star Trek episodes anymore.

Our only consolation is that at least we are making some forward progress into cyber space, and even someone who lives in a 18’ fiberglass RV packed with gadgets, holding a stationary orbit in a friend’s driveway, can still make the jump to cyberspace and build a souped up Millennium Falcon like website (but without Han Solo’s mercenary ambivalence about fighting the Evil Empire).   And I can do it with off the shelf hardware, I don’t need giant rocket boosters and million liter tanks of liquid oxygen, or a NASA sized bureaucracy, which some astrophysicists have identified as the largest gas giant in the galaxy.  All I need is a very modest size tank of green energy, the right flow of zeros and ones—-and I can go so much further into cyberspace, Paypal-enabled in-flight refueling,  instead of toiling shoulder to shoulder with Fred Flintstone laboring in the stone quarry by the sweat of his brow.

And that is why I address you, the shadowy billionaire, and I envision you as dying of a rare cancer that requires you to live in a luxury jetliner that never lands, very much like the shadowy billionaire in the movie, Contact, who calls Jodi Foster, and says, “ Wanna take a ride?”

But the problem with you shadowy billionaires is that you are so wrapped up in what you want,  your plans and schemes, your egocentric world view, you as hub of the world, you, you, you and so, cluelessly you circle in your jetliner, forever stuck in the holding pattern, forever neglecting to focus on what I want, and what my website needs, which, of course, are just so many words for saying: The Greater Good.

Hello?  Earth to Mr. dying billionaire, can you wake up for a moment and smell the chemo therapy?  You are not going to live forever, so if you want a shot at immortality, this is your chance,  make the inevitable massive anonymous donation to zaporacle.com and force me to write a new ending to this email.  Go ahead, make my day, be the maverick renegade you were meant to be and surprise me with your power, what else can I say but— Just Do It, Catch the Wave…

But what if I’m wrong about you, what if you are that one  reader who slipped beneath the cracks of my vision, what if you are not a dying billionaire circling in a jetliner, maybe you don’t even own a jetliner,  maybe you’re thinking that because I’m not locating you perfectly that you are off the hook, the needs of my website don’t apply to you, you can just keep pushing your egocentric agenda, wanting what you want when you want it, you, you, you, but somewhere in your heart, deep inside, you’re sick of the self referential myopia,  a part of you is starting to awaken, starting to ask yourself, “What selfless sacrifice can I make to zaporacle.com? Wouldn’t I feel more fulfilled if I skipped the next mortgage payment and instead put that money into zaporacle.com?”

OK, so maybe your intentions aren’t pure, maybe even the way you asked those italicized questions shows that your motives aren’t purely selfless, that you are still wondering what’s going to make you feel better.  Maybe it’s going to take two or three mortgage payments before you work through some of the ego layers and get to something that begins to look like authentic altruism. That kind of inner change takes time, and it is crucial to have patience, and to remember that homelessness has its compensations, you may sleep in a refrigerator box, but it can feel like a palace when you gratefully appreciate that all you have to do is wake up, stuff some more dry newspaper in your boots and walk a mile or two in the snow to the public library where you can interact with this amazing website for free.

It is now a few hours later, and rereading what I wrote I’m starting to have doubts about my own intentions, feels like I might have lost ground control of my rant, its trajectory somehow destabilized, and now it tumbles weightlessly, a derelict space craft tumbling end over end in space, and when I play back the launch tapes I see what happened, those jagged spurts of green fire from the main boosters, my forward thrust driven by spurts of green energy, and that’s a huge problem, because there is a horrible, horrible taint on the green energy side of the force, caught up in the green energy vortex I want my birthday present, my precious, and I’m willing to do anything to get it, ready to live on cold orc flesh so long as I have my precious, my ring of gold, my techno cave somewhere packed with the latest gadgets, my vantage space on the Babylon Matrix where I can observe its unraveling from a position of privilege and infinite sarcasm and don’t have to actually toil down in its boiler room,  don’t have to wake up to an alarm clock and put on a cog suit, ready to become a moving part in some vast engine of mindless industry.

I still feel driven by green energy lust, can feel my eyes glow large and green down here in the labyrinthine caves of cyber space, and I don’t want to let go of my dying billionaire, and so I drag his wraith-like body into my cave, I put up with his chemotherapy breath, his negative attitudes and annoying fatalism, and I offer to share some of my raw orc flesh with him. I want him to love me and to embrace me with his superfluity of zeros and ones.  Above all I want this email to make me rich, and to do it I’m willing to share with you the secret of becoming rich, but first I have to let go and trust you, trust your honor, trust that when I tell you the secret of being rich that before you start acting on that secret you will at least make a substantial Paypal Donation. Take your magic number add a couple of zeros, and donate it as a magical gesture of faith in far from equilibrium dissipative structures.

OK, you are on the honor system now—-here’s the secret. Paypal me an additional $39.95 to cover shipping and handling and I will send you for free my exclusive eleven page manual that will teach you step by step how to be a motivational speaker in our “How to be a millionaire in 30 days!”® multi level market program in which you train people how they can become millionaires by getting a copy of your eleven page manual on how to be a motivational speaker that trains other people on how they can become millionaires by becoming motivational speakers that train other people on how they can become millionaires by becoming motivational speakers….so forth and so on. Yes, it really is that simple!

OK, I know what you’re thinking, “This sounds really amazing, but what’s the catch?” There you go again, you’re really looking out for number one aren’t you?   Amazing how your egocentric agenda, you, you, you keeps reasserting itself, reminds me of a joke about a young lawyer who is invited into the proverbial mahogany paneled office and told by the senior partners that they are willing to make him a senior partner, he just has to sign over his soul and the souls of everyone in his family.

The young lawyer looks puzzled and asks,

“But what’s the catch?”

Of course there’s a catch, let’s get real, this is the green energy vortex and there’s always a catch, and most schemes don’t tell you, don’t honor you with the full disclosure spirit, the spirit of multi level marketing mutual financial benefit, a spirit which you can feel radiating from me, messiah of the multi level market faith, a pulsating many colored corona of hype surrounding me, mesmerizing you, mesmerizing you, mesmerizing you….

Feel my MLM charisma like heat ripples above hot asphalt, irradiating your soul, do you feel my faith in the green pyramid, do you feel it, the holy spirit of the green energy vortex rising up in me, rise up with me,  join my magic green pyramid and rise up with me!

Oh you shrewd egocentric bastard, you, you still want to know about the catch don’t you?  Damn, you’re good, thought I was gonna slide that one past you…

The catch is that based on statistical extrapolations by our staff of actuaries, by the time 40-45% of the planet becomes motivational speakers the system starts to collapse, there just aren’t enough working people left to provide the wealth, the goods and services for people on the bottom of the pyramid.

But the catch doesn’t matter for you, because if you act before midnight tonight you will be so high on the pyramid, you’ll be the glowing green eye on the top of the pyramid, you’ll be the guy that hired the president to give yourself a tax cut so massive that the government will actually owe you trillions of dollars in refunds.

But wait, wait, something is happening to me, a shift in the matrix, I can’t even see my laptop anymore and the whole Babylon Matrix is turning into smoky, swirling mists and out in the mists I see faces—one looks like Bill Gates, goofy eyes glowing green in the misty night, glimmers of zeros and ones in his glassy, dilated pupils, and there’s another face, looks like Donald Trump, but with long, white fangs, and he is on top of Trump Tower and his fangs are dripping blood, he seems to be feeding on the flesh of a heavy set woman, and then these faces dissolve back into the mists, and I see rising up out of the smoky, swirling mists a giant green pyramid crowned by an eye of flame, and the eye of flame is looking right at me, stabbing me with its magically potent will, and its subwoofer like voice reverberates inside my head, the voice of  James Earl Jones on steroids,

“I see you…  I see what you want…  I am your green energy father… search your heart you know this to be true… join me… join me and together we can end this destructive scarcity of green energy and bring  a new world order to the galaxy….”