The Last Episode Of '30 Days' (part 1)

Perfect World story (The NOW)

You may not have seen his series '30 Days', but I'm pretty sure that if you live in this country and have access to eyes and ears you have heard of his movie 'Supersize Me'. In that film Spurlock shone a light on the dangers of the fast food industry by eating nothing but MacDonalds food for 30 straight days. He had a doctor check him out beforehand, and then got another complete physical afterwards.

Needless to say, if he had eaten that same diet for a year instead of a month, he'd likely be dead.

Feedback from that movie was tremendous, and inspired the television reality show '30 Days', which had a similar theme-- a person from one side of an issue spent 30 days living and breathing the other side. With the cameras rolling we watched and hoped a transformation would take place, or a meeting of the minds or a softening of hard beliefs would occur. We were gratified when it did and frustrated yet hopeful when it didn't.

The show ran for three seasons and just ended last year, covering important topics like living on minimum wage, being gay in a straight world, being Muslim in America and even going to jail. It was a powerful eye-opener of a show and had a lot more to say than the paltry 18 episodes it was given to do so.

So I'm writing another one!

I doubt it will ever make it to air, but I'll try to write it in the spirit of the show. Watch an episode if you haven't yet and try to envision this episode shot in that manner.

All 18 episodes are available to see, free and immediate, at IMDB.com. Search 30 Days and select the result from 2005; click on any highlighted numbers or words following the heading "Seasons" in the main body of information which comes up. Then just click any 'full episode' button and enjoy (if you have the bandwidth, of course)!

Here we go!

30 Days

Season 4, Episode 1

Living In Aden

Morgan Spurlock: Welcome. Do you live in a big city, take the slow and crowded train to a mind-numbing job, reverse it at the end of the day then plop down in front of the TV, fall asleep and do it all over again, day after day, year after year, until you are dead? Well, if you're one of 100 million people in the United States of America, then you do.

Meet Joe Thwacker, Mr big city everyman. He's 31, single and would be searching for Miss Right but for his job, which takes up most of his time. He works as a marketing VP on the 37th floor of a tall building in New York City owned by a large corporation which owns many such tall buildings across America. He's up at 6 am and home at 8 pm, just in time for a couple of hours of prime time in his La-Z-Boy in front of a bag of take-out and a sixer of Bud, where he crashes until woken at 6 am to do it all over again. Not exactly his life of dreams-- the money's good, but he never gets a chance to spend it. What does he think of his life? He thinks it sucks.

On the other side of things, a thousand miles west in a remote section of Nebraska is an experimental city called Aden that you won't find on any map. Aden has been designed to be the city of the future, based on a model by the visionary responsible for Perfect World Theory, in itself a redesign of human society meant to best reflect what we are as human mammals. All the homes are clean and comfortable-- all the jobs are meaningful and well-supported-- all the grounds are clean and manicured.

Aden works on the principle of Whole Family-- the concept that everyone you meet and engage with is a family member, however distant-- and as such, they make sure that each member is well taken care of. It is a city of 300,000 people, and because Whole Family Concept is remarkably efficient, it can run on just a paltry three million man-hours per week. That means each citizen needs to work only about ten hours a week!

Joe has agreed to be a part of the show and will give up his rat race of a life to spend in the Perfect World that is Aden, Nebraska, for the next 30 days.

(Theme Music & Intro)

(Tag ID- 'Day 1')

(Spurlock, in voice-over): Joe is a little confused by the directive that he bring nothing with him to Aden-- no clothes, no personal items-- nothing. He learns that it will all be provided for him. He doesn't have to bring any ID, any credit cards, any money at all. As a matter of fact, he is given a package of clothing to wear and asked to put it on before he even leaves his house, which he does. It's a light long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of thin pants made of a similar material. They connect together at the belt, a belt which Joe thinks is a little bulky for such a thin outfit. The cloth is white, which makes him feel like a doctor. He can't even bring a winter coat along and is understandably apprehensive when he opens the front door to face the chilly New York winter.

Joe: What the...?

Spurlock (vo): He is getting his first taste of the miracle that is Aden. Joe is finding out that the fabric he is wearing has a fascinating feature: It can rapidly weave extra threads into the fabric for when the outside temperature drops, a feature which is only made possible by using nanotailors. Nanotailors of course are tiny robots that pull one end of a long piece of thread through a predetermined path in the fabric, and when completed (along with the ten thousand or so other nanotailors) a t-shirt becomes as warm as a down jacket. The threads are stowed in the belt, and the process can be reversed when the weather changes back because there are nanotailors on both ends of the string.

Warm in seconds, Joe gets into the limo, and then the private jet. A scant few hours later and he's landing in Aden International, an airport that the FAA doesn't include on its public grid for reasons which will become obvious in a short time. Getting off the plane the first thing he notices is that it is a very quiet airport-- only a few passengers are leaving.

Joe is approached by his guide Phillip.

Phillip: Welcome, Joe!

Joe: Hi. So let's see this city of yours!

Phillip: The best way is with a skycab... I'll go get one.

Spurlock (vo): Aden is a special city. For one thing, you won't find a billboard anywhere-- the entire city looks like a park dotted with low wide treeless hillsides. Occasionally a tall building rises up. But floating over the city like mosquitos are the skycabs-- four-seater floating driverless taxicabs that run on helium and compressed air and take you wherever you want to go... eventually. High pressure and speed are just not common in Aden... it is a relaxed place.

Floating for about 15 minutes, Joe could see that the city seemed much larger than standard cities like New York or Chicago, fading off into the distance, but with far fewer features. As a matter of fact, Joe is hard pressed to call the place a city at all, as it looks more like the space between cities, with squares and circles of farmland and narrow ribbon one-lane highways.

The skycab descended to the ground... and then below, as Joe realizes they were entering a shaft in the ground. Finally they landed in a parking space some 150 feet below the surface. The underground tunnel was more of a smooth cave, with rounded walls, that extended in several directions, like being inside a string of balloons. The sidewalks were smooth like linoleum or tile, but with no seams,

Phillip: We're still a few miles from your quarters... let's head to the moving sidewalk.

Joe: Moving sidewalk? Like the ones in some airports?

Phillip: You'll see. Come on.

As they walked, Phillip briefed Joe about his stay. He would be entered into the city's controlling computer system in order to be recognized and tracked. All Adeners, it was explained, were fully integrated into the city. Each person's abilities and enjoyments were recorded and seamlessly worked into the whole, so that citizens got what they requested most of the time, and at the same time the city maintained full functionality.

They stopped at a kiosk along the wall. Joe could see these kiosks everywhere he looked; comfortable seats in front of large TV screens.

Phillip spoke to the computer, telling it Joe was a 30 day visitor.

Computer: (In a sultry female voice) Hello, Joe.

Joe: Um... hello? (turns to Phillip) Can she hear me?

Computer: Yes, darling, I can. What we're going to do is figure out a few good occupations for you for this visit, as well as finding out a list of your favorites-- favorite foods, favorite activities, favorite sexual companions, favo...

Joe: Wait. Wait! WAIT! Phillip, the computer wants to know about my sex companions!

Phillip: Yes, Joe. You DO want sex companions, don't you?

Joe: Umm... yes?

Spurlock (vo): Over the next few minute Joe looks at pictures of different items and is asked to point out the ones he likes. He's shown pictures of food, of activities, of beautiful people at play and working. Then, a tag on a chain is issued and drops into a dish on the table. Phillip tells him that is his ID, of sorts. The computer runs everything, from the transportation systems to city organization to the whims of the citizenry, and the more information it has the better and more seamlessly it can merge it all together. Whatever Joe does in the next 30 days will be recorded by the computer so that he may better fit in to the whole.

Phillip: Just tell the computer everything about you, Joe.

Joe: Everything? What about my privacy?

Phillip: (laughs) Don't worry about your privacy, Joe. The computer doesn't care at all. This is just to help things run more smoothly.

Joe: Well, what if I accidently run afoul of your cities' laws?

Phillip: Do you plan on hurting or killing anyone?

Joe: Of course not!

Phillip: Then you won't be running afoul of any of our laws. That's the only one.

Spurlock (vo): Joe is beginning to realize that this is not even close to any place he's ever been. They walk over to a wide doorway that says 'Citywide Transport-- Come in and have a seat.' They do, in a restaurant-style booth. That same computer voice asks where they're going and Phillip says 'Joe's place'. The booth begins to move, slipping into the main aisle and rolling to the moving sidewalk, where it clicks in place and picks up speed. Joe is being assaulted by the wind, but a glass enclosure rises up and cuts off the breeze. Down they shoot through tunnel after tunnel, and after a few minutes it disengages and rolls to another 'Citywide Transport' embarkation room, hooking in with the other booths and shutting down. Joe seems a little frazzled, but follows Phillip to a glass elevator and gets in. Up it rises and breaks through to the surface, then up the outside of a tall building until Joe can see for miles. The doors open and they walk down a comfortable hallway to a doorway which clicks open at their arrival.

Phillip: We're here!

Joe: (Entering) Hey! This looks like MY place!

Phillip: We made a few alterations before we got here to make you feel more comfortable.

Joe: Thank you! This is amazing! But... there's no kitchen...

Phillip: No need-- food is centrally processed and delivered via vacuum tube. Are you hungry, Joe?

Joe: I could eat.

Spurlock (vo): Phillip presses a panel on the wall and another computer console emerges. Apparently, whenever you want or need something, the computer handles it. Joe asks for a burger and fries. The computer says 'ETA 5 minutes'. Four minutes later a soft chime rings and Phillip presses another panel. A chamber about the size of a microwave oven opens in the wall and inside is a burger and fries, on a plate, with condiments and utensils and a rose in a flute!

Computer: Enjoy!

Joe: Thanks! Phillip, how do I pay for this?

Phillip: Well, you don't.

Joe: Thank you, Phillip!

Phillip: You misunderstand. I didn't buy the food for you. Nobody pays. This is a moneyless city-- didn't Morgan explain that to you?

Spurlock (vo): I didn't! I wanted it to be a surprise, so we could see the look on his face when he found out. Look at it now, folks... have you ever seen incredulity that shocking?

Joe: No money... (he slumps in his chair) I don't get it. How does your city not fall apart?

Phillip: In a word, trust. Imagine you're living in a city where everyone is a family member. How do you rip off the people you love, especially if they're willing to just give it to you?

Joe: But where does it all come from? Your city can't produce everything-- some of it has to come from outside!

Phillip: Okay, Joe, here's the five-cent tour. We're all expected to work at an occupation from among the choices the computer gives us. Some work keeps the city running internally, and some provides goods and services for the outside world which we trade for the items we need. We still use money for that... our exterior work produces cash when the outside world buys it, and we use that cash to buy anything that is needed for the city or the citizenry.

Joe: Doesn't that amount to an awful lot of work?

Phillip: You'd be surprised how much work is just wasted time in the outside world. We used the computer to streamline our needs based on the model designed by the Founder of Perfect World Theory, so we actually need to produce less per capita than any other city, by an order of something like 300%. Anyway, that means that whenever you need or want something, just ask the computer. The computer will take it from here, Joe. Enjoy your meal.

Joe: What do you mean, the computer will take it from here?

Phillip: Your day's activities, your needs and desires and your work schedule will be prepared for you by the computer. Also, if you need to get in touch with me or anyone else, the computer can help you do it.

Joe: Oh! Thank you, Phillip!

Spurlock (vo): For the first time since arriving, Joe is alone. Then old habits rise up and he's looking for a television. The computer asks what he would like and Joe says 'basketball'. The screen fills with choices-- every recent game for every team in the NBA and the NCAA, plus about 30 local games to watch live, plus another hundred if he wants to participate! Joe opts for being social and finds a local pickup game within his skill level (which was determined to be 4/10, where 1 is a novice and 10 is Michael Jordan-level ability). The computer tells him to exit his apartment and follow the green arrow to his destination.

Joe: How do I lock the door?

Computer: You don't. We have no locks, anywhere, except to keep dangerous items from children.

Spurlock (vo): Joe is becoming less surprised with each passing minute. He follows the green arrow projected in front of him through passageways, elevators, downward curving ramps and one set of two steps. He turns a corner and sees an enormous gymnasium with dozens of basketball courts. It is indoors but is obviously lit by the sun, all while a warm breeze tousles his hair. He finds his game, shakes hands and learns the names of the other players, and runs hard for 90 minutes. As he leaves he notices everyone stopping at a console on their way out.

Joe: Why are you doing that?

Man: The computer records everything, man! Stats, position, ability... the next time you play you'll be evenly matched!

Joe: How does it know?

Man: The ID chip around your neck, man.

Joe stops at a console himself and the screen shines with statistics. He's had a good game and he notices with satisfaction that his rating has jumped from 4/10 to 6.23/10.

Joe: Where do I shower, guy?

Man: This way.

Joe follows him to the shower/change room and steps before a nozzle. Instead of the usual surge of water he experiences a warm drafty tingling, a cloudy puff and a cool microspray. Then it stopped. He was about to complain but realized he was cool, dry and smelled clean, and that must be what passed for showers in Aden. He followed the arrow back home and his computer chirped with instructions.

Nobody gets something for nothing, and Joe is no exception. He reads the screen, which has figured out his Equalescence-- the amount of work he would need to contribute to equal his usage of the city.

Computer: You'll need to work 40 hours.

Joe: 40 hours a week!? That's half my normal workload!

Computer: No, Joe. 40 hours. Total. For the month. Or you could work more, if you want. That way when you leave, we'll also give you a paycheck.

Joe: You're kidding me!

Computer: How well-programmed do you think I am? No. Sadly, I'm being completely honest.

Joe: What kind of compensation are we talking about?

Computer: The current rate of compensation is $30,000 an hour.

Joe: You're KIDDING!

Computer: This time I am, Joe. Ell- Oh- Ell! The true compensation depends on the type of work you choose to do, with the least coveted jobs paying best.

Joe: Wait. Aren't there jobs that people NEVER want to do?

Computer: Very few. Most of those have been automated. The few remaining 'distasteful' jobs are usually done by people who want gobs of money for traveling outside of the city.

Joe: I get it! Slick system! But what do people do with all that free time? Aren't there troublemakers?

Computer: There aren't many. I try to keep potential troublemakers like you busy, Joe. This is sort of a dream city, in case you hadn't noticed.

Joe: I noticed. Nice dig. Okay, what kind of work do you have for me?

Spurlock (vo): Now that Joe has the lowdown on Aden, things start to fall into place for him. He's already not missing home or his schedule, his solitude, or the barking orders from his psychotic boss, and he's ready to begin living the dream. The computer has found 37 occupations he could work at, all based on the skill sets gleaned from the entry test he took when he arrived. He glances down the list and is surprised to see one occupation in particular...

Joe: Marketing? Here? Without money isn't there reduced incentive to market products?

Computer: Absolutely.

Joe: Why is it on the list then?

Computer: It's not for us. It's a 'them' job. One of those jobs that earn money for Aden.

Joe: Oh. Well, never mind... I'm really interested in the gardening job.

Computer: I KNEW it! Man, am I good! How did I pull that one out of my ass?

Joe: Eww... IMAGERY, computer!

Computer: Oops, sorry. Let me know when you're ready and I can lead you.

Joe: You know, if you give me a map I can find it myself.

Computer: All righty. You already have a map.

Joe: I do? Where?

Computer: ID chip. Hold it up to any console and announce your destination, and it will display an orthographic hologram of your path.

Joe: A what now?

Computer: A 3-D copy of the city with your path in red, floating in midair.

Joe: Oh. Let's begin in the morning. I'm beat.

Spurlock (vo): On this first day Joe has been bombarded with new ideas and practices, ones which must surely be making his brain tired, as it's only nine pm. We'll catch up with him tomorrow on his first day at work. Stick around!

(Commercial Break)

END OF PART ONE

Copyright 2009 Bruce Ian Friedman

Easing The Pressure In The Perfect World

essay

Jay Leno has a feature on the Tonight Show called Jaywalking where he interviews people on the street and asks them easy questions, hoping for the wrong answer. I have to admit, when people don't even know the name of their sitting vice-president it's a little funny, and even funnier when they THINK they do... but are hysterically wrong!

I bring it up because I went on a little walking tour myself recently, to try and get a feel for what is stressing out people in America, or at least in my little corner of it. I started off from my apartment and spoke to the first person I came to, an elderly latina woman.

"Hola, senora! Como estas?" I began.

She was less than impressed. "Hey, why you tink I speak Spanish? I'm 1/16 Cherokee on my padre's side; and Ecuadorian, Costa Rican and Mexican en mi madre's!"

That made no sense but I continued, "Oh, sorry! I have a question. What makes you stressed?"

She glared at me. "YOU, ese! Now move, puta, before I stick you." And off she went. Boy, she was adorable! But I could tell I was going to have to try another location-- grandmamita was already assembling her grandson's cholo troops for a frontal assault on my position.

My home area being a little TOO confrontational, I thought I'd try somewhere else. So I moved somewhere a bit less territorial-- the mall. And I picked up a bottle of perfume to disguise myself as one of those department store samplers. I try again, this time with a young man. "Chanel Number 5?"

"That's a woman's perfume, you dumbass!"

"Oops, sorry! I have a question... what makes you stressed?"

"You do! Now get out of my way." Off he went. This was getting nowhere. I tried a woman. "Chanel Number 5?"

"What, you want me to smell like my grandmother's grandmother? That stuff is ancient."

"What, besides me, stresses you out?"

"Salesmen... like you." She hurried past and bumped into me, and I dropped the sampler, which splashed all over me. I left the confines of Nordstroms and tried walking the mall proper.

"Hi, what stresses you out?" I asked a man holding a lady's purse.

"Shopping," he growled, "and you smell like a lunch lady." Okay, that's one. I tried another.

"What stresses you out?" "Prices." Now I'm getting somewhere! "What makes you stressed?"

"The economy."

"Gang violence."

"Yeah, me too," I responded, as I thought back to my earlier interview, trembling. I kept asking people. "What is irritating to you?"

"The war."

"My tattooed freak of a boyfriend."

"Republicans."

"Thongs. Especially the one I'm wearing right now." Oh! Too much information, sir! I slinked away, with a sideways glance. I printed up a sign that said, "What bothers you in the world today?" and stood by it, pencil in hand. Now people were coming up to me!

"Loss of freedom."

"Rising prices."

"My daughter's Clockwork Orange boyfriend."

"Paperwork."

"Taxes."

"Parking. And meters. And meter readers. And cops in general. And judges. And lawyers."

"The lying media."

I asked a guy who was mostly tattoos and eye makeup. "My girlfriend and her judgmental mother." Oh, it was him!

"The loss of intelligent thought."

"Democrats."

"Fast food."

Whew! The answers kept shooting at me, and my pencil was getting dull. I stopped in a Circuit City (oops.. I meant a Good Guys... oops... I meant a Mom and Pop electronics store... damn this economy) and picked up a digital recorder. "What disturbs you?"

"Divorce."

"Marriage."

"Sexual inadequacy." All three answers were from the same guy (!)...

"The pressure placed upon people for gift giving."

"Housing prices."

"The scam of insurance."

"Hospitals."

"Guys with nose rings or ear loops." (Me too!)

"Superstars."

"Doctors thinking they're gods."

"DMV workers thinking they're gods." And the list went on...

Late charges. Deadlines. Bouncers. Foreign cab drivers who don't know their way around. 'Choosy' doormen at clubs. Snotty minimum wage clerks. Expiration dates on salt. Finance charges. Required donations. Private streets. Gated communities. Foreign laws. Crooks. Killers. Bullies. Beautiful people who know it. The fucking rich...

There were more but I'll stop here. It's a pretty good-sized list, even if I cross myself off as a stress inducer-- I may have only mentioned it twice, but believe me, EVERYONE thought that was the funniest thing they'd ever thought up. Maybe it was true, sad to say.

Okay, so we now know without doubt this world is replete with stress-inducing factors. How will the Perfect World be any better? How can we flip our mindsets to feel calm instead?

Well, how do people do it now? I haven't mentioned until now, but a fair number of people I interviewed had a smile on their face and couldn't think of a single thing which stressed them out! By a fair number I mean under 10%... but it's a start. What goes on in their heads that nothing in this hardscrabble world bothers them? Curious? I sure was!

"Nothing bothers you? NOTHING?"

"No, not really."

"Not even annoying guys like me coming up to you and pressing your life for details?"

"No. I came up to you, remember?"

"Oh, right."

"I saw your sign and felt compelled to let you know that not everyone thinks life is a series of stress points."

"That's great! Now... why? How? What is in your life that ameliorates the negative?"

I had this conversation (or one like it) with quite a few people, and I have to say that I got a number of answers which surprised me. I really had come to expect all these unstressed, happy people to say 'God'. Well, there were plenty of those, don't get me wrong. They believed that when they gave their life over to god that it was now out of their hands, and anything which happened to them (for better or for worse) was god's will, with a purpose which was too great for them to comprehend. It was their specific choice to not try to understand, but rather simply to accept all the situations, negative or positive, as the hand of god moving in mysterious ways, with their lot in life to simply watch and learn and wait for their turn.

Wow.

This post will not be about those people. But in the future there will be an entire post (or more) dedicated to them. I don't have a title for it yet, but the word 'sheep' is banging about... or 'blindered', 'closed-minded', 'simplistic', 'brainwashed' or 'subservient'. You can already imagine the slant.

No, the first impressive answer I heard from those non-religious positive folks was 'Shit happens'. Why 'impressive', you ask? You think it sounds more like those people were just oversimplifying matters and handing their fate over to fate?

It is acceptance, that's true, but it is not of a religious kind. Those people came to understand that we are all here by chance, that our very coming into being itself was just 'shit happening'. They understood that although our knowledge is impressive and our curiosity is vast, the universe itself is so much more than we are as yet capable of understanding. They were comfortable with the knowledge that the human race is an infinitely small cog in an infinitely large machine. And like a machine, it runs completely oblivious to its own outcome, uncaring whether its actions may lead to its own demise.

In other words, these people have realized and acquiesced to their own powerlessness in the turning of the machine. They have come to know that their own place in this immense universe is of no consequence, and with this freeing knowledge can go about their lives with one purpose... intentionally making themselves happy. And in doing so, they realize that happiness cannot exist without sorrow-- one needs the other to exist. The feeling of sorrow makes the feeling of happiness that much sweeter, and what do humans have if not the ability to feel strong emotion?

On the opposite side were the people who answered "It doesn't matter... nothing matters at all. We're all just coasting to death, anyway. Regardless of what we learn or try, the end is as inevitable as sunrise-- we will all be dead. DEAD."

Well, I analyzed what those poor folk were going on about (after I had myself a good cry) and I think I understood. People who answered that way were focussing one one single point in their lives... the last moment. They were completely ignoring the full sum of their time on this green gem and setting their life's existence on one single fact... at some point the ride will be over.

I believe those people had never learned the truth of life, a secret I will share with you right now, because it's not my way to make you wait. Here it comes:

It's not the destination, it's the journey.

Or, it's not where you're going, it's how you get there.

If it's true that life is one long ride, wouldn't it make sense to savor every dizzying drop, every tantalizing turn, every unexpected twist?

So if a person's full existence were a roller coaster ride, WHO would enter the ride depressed because they know, with certainty, that at some point the excitement will end?

A pessimist, that's who. A pessimist looks at a glass of orange juice with an eyedropper of juice removed, and complains about the missing juice. Glass half empty, PAH! The extreme pessimist complains that his glass is the wrong shape, a bad color and in a terrible location.

Pessimists are complainers.

Complainers are unsatisfied.

Satisfaction fits wrong on a pessimist-- like a dog wearing a bra. Bizarre.

Okay, maybe not THAT bizarre, fella... calm down.

So how is the Perfect World going to ease the pressure and fear? In a series of steps:

We start by listing ALL the negative aspects of current society and interaction.

We analyze them to determine their source.

We carefully restructure society in small steps to gradually eliminate the source pressure.

At some soft date in the future, probably between 100 and 200 years, we will have weeded out most negative aspects of living and along with it, most of the negative situations and emotions.

It would be unrealistic to believe we could eliminate it ALL. There will always be circumstances beyond our control which would inspire negative reactions. The enormous difference is that because we will approach life from a completely different mindset, we will come to accept the inevitable, and even at some point, find positives amidst the negatives.

In the science fiction book Stranger In A Strange Land, Valentine Michael Smith taught that lesson. He was a human who was raised from infancy on Mars by Old Ones, the non-corporeal inhabitants of that planet. He was found as a young man during another human expedition and brought back to Earth, where over time his odd beliefs caught on and he began a religion wherein he taught people to lose their fear-- of pain, of illness, of death... and even of love and closeness. He accomplished that daunting task by revealing that death was not the end for humans, because death did not take the spirit. The spirit, he claimed, continues eternally, experiencing and influencing life as before, but in an angelic, benevolent manner. It was a pivotal statement in that book which changed everything for the humans of planet Earth.

I cannot make the same assertion, nor would I; and although it was admittedly a very powerful claim which made all the difference in Heinlein's jarring novel, I insist that we need to take our cues from the best of us humans, not try to create a mythical perfect race of angels in order to expand our influence in the world. In other words, I believe we can get there following the examples that have been laid out by the best among us.

Humorously, my own attempt to glean information was itself, an ironic effort. If I'm trying to better the world, how does it help if I ask people what is wrong with it? Talk about glass half empty! If I had truly embraced Perfect World Theory, I would be asking what is good with the world, what makes people happy!

Oops! Well, that just means we all have a long path to travel before we become those better humans.

However, in reviewing the many complaints I did receive, it seems most misery stems from people feeling they are living their life in irons, like a prisoner on a pirate ship. People feel trapped; trapped in socioeconomic conditions, trapped in state-sponsored partnerships, trapped in the rat race of their lives which forces them to continue down an immensely unsatisfying path, the only other choice being to leave and risk losing it all.

We obviously admire those people who have taken the risk-- there are hundreds of televised stories in which individuals who are sick of the rat race say "I am DONE!' and chuck it, looking for the better life. In those programs they always seem to achieve their goal, although they usually have to suffer and fight and defeat plenty of hardship along the way. And in a way, we admire that, too.

But we have better solutions available to us here in the Age of Information. We have the resources to feed every person, and to house them. Nobody should ever be homeless or hungry. Nobody should fear becoming sick or injured either. Nobody should be lording their positions of seniority over anyone else, nor pushing employees to work hard or else be fired. And nobody should have to spend a lifetime learning a career just to have it taken away because they made a mistake.

Today's society is designed for the people who do everything right. Where it falls short is in its treatment of the large majority with less. Less money, less education and less health means you are invisible to, or even a scourge of, society. Break a single law and you might as well tattoo the crime onto your forehead, because you are ostracized for life. The entire concept of dehumanizing large sections of population must end quickly, before the damage to society becomes irrevocable.

We are only as good as our treatment of the LEAST of us.

That's where it starts. But we can only be better people when we show respect and decency to every soul, at every juncture. And our huge corportations must change their core values:

They must stop fleecing the citizenry. Their goal must be people first, profit second. They must limit their top income. They need to remember humility.

And many individual concepts fuel the change:

Spread decency. See the good in things. Brush it off. Pay it forward. Be the better you. Do unto others. Welcome strangers. Take the leap of trust. Turn your cheek. Assume the best. Person up. Start with a smile. Meet someone daily.

Be an angel.

Copyright 2009 Bruce Ian Friedman

Imperfect Jobs In The Perfect World

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Elephant Jockey- Walks behind animal in a parade to keep the path clear. This fella (see his legs there?) was walking a little TOO close to his pachyderm, who was evidently allergic to the fajitas from last night.

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Today I answer one oft-asked question about the Perfect World-- if it's so perfect, who's going to do all the bizarre and disgusting jobs which NEED to be done?

Thanks for your question, SoylentgreenisME27. Here's the answer-- I hope you can still hear it.

First, there are always going to be people who will do things other people will not. I can't be certain if that's nature or nurture, or a little of both, but many jobs you could not THINK of applying for are done quite contentedly by others. For example, people who seek to become doctors will do many things that are considered revolting by most people, and yet have little problem doing them, probably because they see the big picture, and know this research will help advance science and humanity.

Second, many jobs are done by hand today because the research and development involved in making machinery to perform them would be cost prohibitive. In the Perfect World, money is not an issue, and researchers who are hungering for challenges will find wonderful solutions because there is nothing impeding progress.

That answer may seem like a cop-out, but understand the question is a general one. A good example of labor-saving research that found a practical development is the Roomba, an automatic vacuum cleaner which uses computer software to make a daily run over every square inch of floor surface. That's one less mindless task a human needs to perform to maintain cleanliness in their home.

In one of my sci-fi stories I mount a track in the ceiling of a home that travels a complete loop around every spot in the house. Attached to the track is a metal box. Within the box is a robotic arm, and a wide variety of attachments. Its job is to runs the household completely; cleaning, cooking, straightening up, mopping the floors, pushing the vacuum, taking out the garbage, cleaning up after the animals, helping little Johnny get dressed, feeding the fish, finding your keys... in short, anything which can be programmed into the software or observed by the sensors. Since the R&D for robotic arms was carried out at great expense over years by many manufacturing corporations, this is one product which could find its way onto the shelves in a decade or two!

Or how about an automatic, GPS driven ditch digger-- it could make short and easy work of a laborious manual task or even a time-consuming machine-operated job.

Each 'disgusting' job would have to be looked at separately. While this is by no means a complete list, here are some solutions for a random assortment of jobs I would NEVER want to have:

Armpit Sniffer - Works for companies that make deodorant and checks the effectiveness.

[The gas company has had an electronic sniffer that finds odors for at least 20 years. In the Perfect World I see this job being given to machines. The same is true for these other jobs:]

Breath Odor Evaluator- For gum or mouthwash manufacturers.

Dog Sniffer- Analyzes dog’s breath to test effect of diet on teeth. Breath is categorized as sweaty, salty, musty, fungal or decaying.

Egg Smeller- To check for spoilage.

Paper Towel Sniffer- To make sure it is odorless before, during and after use.

Gastroenterologist- A specialist who determines medical symptoms in the odor of flatulence.

Barker- Attempts to attract patrons to entertainment by exhorting passing public, shouting out attractions of the show to incite listeners to attend.

[This job will be phased out when the act of competition is.]

Barnyard Masturbator- Collects semen for insemination purposes using an electric probe in the animal’s rectum, an artificial vagina or by manual stimulation.

[It's in the Perfect World philosophy to reduce world population to about a billion, and to make our diets healthier. Meat isn't eliminated, just reduced, with an average portion size of about an ounce. With lesser demand for beef, the cows can go back to fucking for fun. That eliminates these jobs too:]

Chicken Sexer- Sorts through baby chicks to determine if they’re male or female.

Orangutan Urine Collector- Analyzes to study factors that effect reproduction.

Brain Picker- Trims meat, glands, and organs for use in meat products or medicine.

Chicken Dresser- Slaughters and dresses fowl in preparation for marketing.

[Maybe it's me, but these jobs don't sound that bad-- how many times have you bought a whole chicken instead of parts to save money, then had to cut it up yourself?]

Carcass Cleaner- By immersing body in boiling chemicals, placing maggots on the carcass, or hand-scaling the leftover flesh.

Diener- Prepare corpses for the pathologist before autopsies are performed in hospitals.

[Again, we're talking doctors here... NOTHING medical is digusting to them]

Dysentery Stool-Sample Analyzer- Explanation mercifully omitted.

[A necessary job until we eliminate dysentery... let's get that drinking water CLEAN, people!]

Gold Reclaimer- Scours old teeth for gold fillings and melts them into gold pellets which are sold to jewelers.
[Okay, who even has gold in their teeth anymore? Except for rappers, I mean...]

Golf Ball Diver- Those who can find 3,000 balls a day can make $50K to $100K a year. They have to comb the mucky bottom with their bare hands.

[Wouldn't you imagine that the Perfect World would design a golf ball that floats?]

Gum Buster- Scrapes gum from any surface using a steaming tool.

[Already sounds Perfect Worldy.]

Hair Boiler - Boils various kinds of animal hair until it curls for later use.

[The thought of that curls MY hair!]

Hazardous Waste Cleanup Crew - Cleans up chemical spills, sewage, mold, asbestos, and crime scenes.

[That's a job that is just pleading for robotic help]

Knife-Thrower’s Assistant- Involves a considerable degree of bravery.

[These kinds of jobs are discouraged because a little thing called common sense. Use balloons.]

Porta-potty Servicer- Explanation mercifully omitted.

Manure Inspector - Wade through farming manure, inspecting to make sure it’s free from contaminants.

[The Perfect World will have an automated system to turn feces into manure, along with testing, so people won't have to]

Ocularist- Paints artificial eyes.

[Again, not a particularly nauseating job... unless it's done in the socket...]

Semen Washer- Determines sperm count, then adds preservatives and freezes them for in vitro fertilization.

[Because we don't have enough people already...]

Snake Venom Collector- High attrition rate. Even higher death rate.

[Now there's a job that screams for automation!]

Tampon Tester- Checks for absorbency and cord strength. Most testers check up to 125 pieces per day, by hand.

[As a male, I will let that one go unanswered for now. I'll get the female Perfect World perspective soon, I'm sure.]

Worm Picker- Must be done by hand, and must find 8000 per day to make $50K yearly.

[Shouldn't there be worm farms for that sort of thing?]

This is just a small sampling of some esoteric and repellant jobs available today, but none so horrifying as the ones we have today which dehumanize people, turning them into simplistic fools performing brainless work.

Should Perfect World Theory take hold, and I'm betting our survival that it must, many of our most populous jobs will disappear-- accountants, IRS people, bookkeepers, cash register makers, meter maids, cops, lawyers, judges, bailiffs, politicians, salesmen, advertising people, billboard makers and changers... the list goes on and on. These jobs hold together the system we've put in place-- change the system, lose the jobs.

No system is perfect, including Perfect World. There will always be terrible occupations that need to be done. The motivation in PW will be in identifying and modifying those jobs to reduce or eliminate their awfulness. But whether it is possible to do that with every job or not is irrelevant-- the whole structure of PW is designed to promote worldwide maturity. In a world like that, whatever needs to be done, WILL be done. It's that simple.

Copyright 2009 Bruce Ian Friedman

The Rich Won't Go Down Easy

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Let's see... in the Perfect World you are guaranteed:

A wonderful place to live;

Free top-notch health care;

Free delicious food;

Pampering when you need it;

An occupation you truly enjoy;

The access to do anything you can think of;

As much sex as you care to indulge in;

People who LISTEN;

Vacations when you want them;

Smart conversations with intelligent people;

In short, a life worth living.

In other words, everything which is currently available to people with vast storehouses of money. I can see why the wealthy would have no desire to see this world come about. After all, look at what they would have to give up:

No abuse of the underclass;

No irrational wasting of resources;

No servants;

No point to constant leisure;

Nothing to lord over your fellow man;

No slumming;

And I'm sure I could think up more if I actually had money.

If I were a person of vast wealth, I would probably HATE the idea of a society where we were all truly the same; where I couldn't order people around to do my bidding; where I would HAVE to engage in occasional physical work in order to do my part as part of a whole...

As a matter of fact, I would imagine that whichever secret society of the ultra rich that is responsible for deciding the fate of the planet would be working overtime to PREVENT the Perfect World from occurring. Not because it is unsustainable (it isn't) or because it eliminates possessions (it does), but because it equalizes humanity. In the Perfect World you could live in a palace if that is what you desired, but not endlessly; at some point someone else would like to live in that palace and you would need to move on, because we all share in the dream.

What is the point of being rich if you can't have whatever it is you would like, whenever you would like it? How have you even succeeded if you can't crush people and climb their broken backs to reach an apple on the low branch?

The rich are not all like that, of course... but a large number of them ARE, and it is because of the nature of success in this nation that such a thing even occurs. It is very difficult to reach truly awesome wealth without stealing it, legally or otherwise, from large numbers of people. You have to turn off your compassion and eliminate your empathy so the emotion doesn't cripple you while you watch these people's lives being turned to shit because of you. You need to be singularly selfish and greedy if you want to create vast wealth for yourself.

The few people who have received such wealth without following the traditional path have had it handed to them (inheritance) or have benefitted from the Internet boom, whereby a tremendous number of people can purchase your relatively reasonable product with little or no effort on your part, and without ruining people's lives. In either case you have skipped over the normal procedure of theft-- lucky you. Now you qualify to be in the rarified company of the world's most selfish and greedy thieves; you are among the most emotionless and self-serving humans ever created.

Once again I repeat... only SOME rich are that way... the rest keep quiet and look the other way.

The ironic thing is-- if the rich were, as a collective whole, to get on board with the idea of creating a perfect world, they would have the power to make it happen virtually overnight! No waiting for human decency to mature, no cajoling the fence-sitters! I can imagine it now...

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(We are in a tremendous underground hall, opulent and swank. Hundreds of large banquet tables hosting thousands of well-dressed people adorn the polished marble floor, all facing the stage, which looks like a scene from God's courtroom. There is an enormous marble stairway downstage, which rises high and far out of sight. A speck appears at the top, slowly getting larger until we can see an official-looking little man in a powdered wig descending slowly, purposefully, finally stopping at the dais. He snaps on a pair of reading glasses and clears his throat...)

Moderator Slave: Good people, good people! Please come to order for this, the two-thousand-and-ninth annual meeting of the Society of Human Gods On Earth, the venerable Bill Gates presiding...

Gates: I shall be referred to as WILLIAM by the likes of you, moderator slave! (snaps fingers) Security slaves! Squash this slave into a twelve inch clear box and mount it on the podium!

Moderator Slave: Oh, dear!

Gates: Just kidding, old chap! (whispers to security) Make it a fifteen inch clear box... and try not to break anything off. (normal voice) Welcome, fellow Gods! We have a full meeting today... let's get right to business, shall we? (raps the gavel) I always wanted to do that!

(murmuring quiets)

Gates: Welcome, esoteric few! First, announcements. We have a few new members! Everyone knows and fears our first inductee. The heinous act he committed to gain entry into our club was a killa! He was able to divert a 'small' amount of money, I think 10 billion dollars, from the US Treasury into a managerial fund, which then just 'disappeared'! (Gates snickers) Priceless! Welcome Darth Vader-- I mean, Dick Cheney! Raise your hand so everyone can see you, Dick! Dick Cheney, folks!

(scattered applause) Try not to kill anyone, Dick! (appreciative laughter) And you'll all recognize his pet, Dubya. Up off the floor, boy... let's get a look at ya! That's a nice leash, Dick! What's it made of... Barbara's hair? (more laughter)

Bush: (looking a little confused) Heh- heh heh heh heh-heh...

Cheney: Thank you, Bill! As a token of my appreciation, I'd like to take you Quayle hunting one day! Heh heh!

Gates: (uncomfortably) Yes, well... AHEM! We welcome another honoree today, who has the distinction of being in three minorities at once! Please give a round of applause for Oprah Winfrey, who is not only a successful WOMAN, but an AFRICAN AMERICAN at that!

Winfrey: You said three minorities, Gates... what's the third?

Gates: Oh! Well, you've also got a beard.

Winfrey: What choo talkin about, Billis? My face is clean shaven!

Gates: I'm not talking about your 5 o'clock shadow, she-man! I'm talking about that ropesmoker Stedman!

Winfrey: (laughing) You got me, Bill! I'm standing on him right now! (Stedman weakly waves from under the table) But thank you for adding me to your collection of high powered runabouts and ne'er-do-wells. (to the audience) You should all look under your seats, folks... (singsong) I gave everyone a JEW-ISH LAW-YER! (people all pull rumpled, bespectacled attorneys out from under their seat cushions. There's a general murmur of approval)

Gates: You still got it, Oprah! Of course I'm talking about your huge ass.

Winfrey: Why thank you, you old charmer! I'd give you a taste, but I'm afraid your MICRO-SOFT dick would FREEZE like your computers do!

Gates: Yes. Umm. Well, lastly I'm forced... I mean CHARMED, to present our last newcomer, a man who owns half of New York City but can't find a decent rugmaker, a man whose face looks like it is perpetually sucking on a lemon, a man whose garish taste in decorating is transcended only by his ruttish ability as a lovemaker, please welcome Donald Trump.

Trump: (in brash New Yawkish) I own dis banquet hawl, and yaw rent is goin' WAY up! HAW HAW! Jes kiddin'... not really! Thanks for havin' me, jerks! My gift to yoo awls is also unda ya seat... it's a passkey to my private freeway under New Yawk! The entrance ramps are at any drive-thru Kenny Rogers chicken place-- nobody's who's ever eaten there has a car, so they don't know nuttin'! HAW HAW! It goes straight to the Hamptons, with one exit to Atlantic City and another to my mudder's place in Weehauken.

Gates: Newcomers, pick up your gift bags at the coat check after the meeting. I think each of you were given, among other goodies, a tropical island. Trump, I'm hoping yours is the one they shoot 'Lost' on (crowd laughs; Trump grimaces... or smiles, nobody can tell which). On to the main business. (Fiddles with his Microsoft electronic glasses, which short out with a ZZZZT! Scowling, he squints and reads from a transcript) I have a proposal here from the president of the United States, which is in response to an overwhelming show of support from the United States people.

Steve Jobs: 'Overwhelming', Gates? Are you sure you're not just referring to Mac's sales numbers? Or the number of unsatisfied Microsoft users? (audience chuckles) What kind of numbers are we talking about, anyway?

Gates: Sit down, Jobs. Your Earth shoes are tipping you backward. (Jobs falls. Gates turns to the crowd) The numbers are considerable. Over 250 million positive votes for this amendment in the United States alone. (numerous whistles coming from the crowd) 5 billion worldwide.

Ross Perot: Well, whadda they want, boy? If I know Amurricans, I bet they want sumthin' stupid, like to vote in a new official flavor of ice cream, like my own favorite, pickled squash, or maybe a new official food for baseball games honoring the players... like the taco, or the eggroll! Speak up! I'm all ears!

Gates: Well listen up, Dumbo. Americans want to scrap the capitalist system.

(silence descends upon the hall like a thick blanket of doom)

Gates: Yeah, they've figured out that it's designed to be an all-or-nothing MLM, and we're at the top.

Rupert Murdoch: Crikey!

David Geffen: Oh, I've GOT to sit down... I'm getting the vapors!

Gates: And that's not all... they've figured out how to take it all away from us!

(shocked cries)

Gates: They're doing all their buying at mom and pop stores!

Jim Walton: My left side is numb! I think it's my Mart! (falls to the ground, clutching his wallet)

Giorgio Armani: Oh, deah! I only sell to top shops! Whatever am I to do?

Gates: And they've stopped buying name brands!

(Armani crumples, whimpering)

Warren Buffett: (coarse whisper) And th-the stock m-m-market?

Gates: They pulled all their money from it. All. (A terrified keening comes from the audience. Dick Cheney pulls out a shotgun and blows off Gordon Getty's gonads)

Cheney: Shaddup, ya coward.

William Hilton: (saucer-eyed) Wh- what about vacations? Resorts?

Gates: Camping.

Hilton: NOOOOOOO! (sobs into his caviar, sending his million-dollar lobster bisque crashing to the floor)

Michael Bloomberg: (panicky) We can regulate! We can enact laws! We can tax!

Gates: (shaking his head) We can't! The cops, the accountants and IRS workers-- they're all in on it!

George Lucas: (wild eyed) I got it! We'll distribute a movie about this very scenario... and the world blows up as a result!

Gates: They're only watching Internet TV shows!

David Rockefeller: That's great! You can turn on that fail-safe you put in all your computers to show what we WANT them to see!

Gates: (sorrowfully) I DID. They just turned to their iPhones instead!

Jobs: (sobbing from the floor) I KNEW I should have put a fail-safe in my products! Wozniak kept pooh-pooing the idea!

Gates: Well, he IS one of THEM, after all.

Richard Branson: I don't know about you all, but I have a space ship ready to launch for Mars! Buh-BYE, suckers! (races to one wall of the great hall and hits a remote. A curtain opens and a small ship is revealed. He jumps in and takes off, filling the hall with acrid black smoke.)

Gates: (coughing) I wonder if he knows Mars has an extremely thin atmosphere...

Jobs: (sobs) We've been sucking in the rarified air of our exalted positions so long, I'll bet it's plenty enough for him! (wailing) Why didn't I also get into transportation! Waaaa!

(there's general pandemonium as billionaires run in circles, followed by their rumpled and litigious attorneys. Eventually the smoke clears and things quiet down)

Gates: Come to order! We still have to vote on the proposition. All in favor of scrapping capitalism in favor of a new system called... (he adjusts his glasses and peers at the page) Perfect... World? What the hell is that?

(the Moderator Slave speaks from the 15" clear box on the dais. We can hear him but can only guess where his face might be...)

Slave: (loudly) It's a system which will put all people on a level playing field, where people will be trained to work to their natural born strengths, where competition and one-upsmanship will have no place; where money will be dissolved in favor of a World Family style of living. (he pauses) It's Eden, sir. (crackling comes from the box) My spine!

(His words echoed throughout the great underground hall, and passed into silence. A dropping pin was heard. Then, muffled sobs and screams began, along with keening wails of agony. Shouts of 'My money! My stuff!' could be heard as the realization of this new living style began to sink in. A few members were trying to hide their money by keistering wads of hundred dollar bills)

Gates: (woodenly) All in favor? (Another dropped pin was heard) Will someone get a bag for Armani's pins, please! (repeats) All in favor? Anybody? Okay then... all against?

(A thunderous shout emanated from the main floor) NO!

Gates: (relieved) The motion fails! Okay people, come to order! It's time to assemble your armies and squelch the worldwide rebellion!

Walton: Have you forgotten, man? The armies are made of people. POOR people! They're not going to listen to us!

Gates: Time to unveil the secret plan! (he pushes a large red button on the podium. A section of the stage begins to rise, and a cylinder filled with smoke rose up from the floor. It stops, then opens with a WHOOSH. There's a man inside. No, not exactly a man. Out steps Arnold Schwarzenegger, emotionless. He's wearing a black leather jacket and shades, and is carrying an Uzi in each hand) We don't use HUMAN soldiers-- a promising new startup company called Skynet has built an army of ROBOTIC soldiers! It's time, Arnold. (Gates steps out of the way as Arnold lurches forward)

Schwarzenegger: (looking like the Terminator robot but speaking like Arnold the governator) Yah, it's ti-yum to call my metal brodders and sisters and rise up to squash da rebellion. We going to start in de great state of Cal-ee-for-nee-ya, wit da pacifists and da therapists and da vegetarians and put dem on a boat to Sweden. An den we sink da boat, ha-ha! Terminators, march!

(To a unit, all the lawyers Oprah gave to the audience stand up, rip off their clothes, and then their skin, to reveal thousands of scary metal robots that walk as one out of the hall and off to do Arnold's bidding)

Gates: Meeting adjourned. May heaven help us.

•-------------•

Absurd? Sure... I GUESS. I mean, who really thinks the wealthy will just roll over and allow the world to implement a system which makes them dinosaurs? I sure don't.

The point is, the wealthy and powerful aren't going to stand idly by and wait for the Perfect World to take root, because it represents a great threat to them. What good is being powerful if there is nobody who respects that power? If PW is to flourish it has to be propelled by the widest base of humanity, the NON-rich, and since it promises the creation of an idyllic society it would likely be extremely popular movement.

We had better be on our guard when the money and power holders notice that the theory has become a movement and is spreading wide; because their efforts to stop it will be legendary. Either that or they'll all decide to take over Australia and rename it Wealthonia, a place which will be last bastion for their corrupt Capitalist way of living.

And just to be spiteful... they'll keep all the kangaroos.

Copyright 2009 Bruce Ian Friedman

Why We're PETRIFIED Of The Perfect World

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I didn't even have to SAY it and you already know... how smart are y'all?

It's true. The one thing we all hate is... is... I can barely type it... CH-CHANGE!

It doesn't matter what type of change it is (and I'm NOT referring to Danish Krone or the Greek Drachma). No, people dislike the mussing about of their precious schedules, the unexpected adjustment of the expected.

People LIKE to write something on their calendars and have it still be true when that date rolls around. It keeps us in sync, makes us feel as though all is good and right with the world.

Even when NOTHING is right with the world.

That's the odd part-- people would prefer to keep their schedules of distasteful activities than saunter up to a big pile of 'I dunno', even though that pile promises to be better.

It's like that contestant on Let's Make A Deal who will stick with a year's supply of anchovy paste they won from what was in the box rather than going for Monte Hall's mystery offer behind door number three, because it might be worse than anchovy paste.

And here's the funniest part-- even though I describe, in acute detail, how much better this new world would be... you're still uncertain! Your thought pattern is this: "I have a pile of pennies, and this guy is promising me a pile of hundred dollar bills... I'd better keep the pennies, because I already have them, and the bill thing... well, that's uncertain."

What's that old proverb? A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Seems like EVERYBODY'S following that one! Well, except for the hunter, who has his eyepiece trained on those other two as we speak. A quick POW POW and then there's THREE in the hand.

What does the hunter know that most of us don't? That a week's worth of meat costs no more than a coupla bullets?

No. And might I say, creepy. No, what the hunter knows is that if you don't reach out to get it, you're gonna miss it. They have modeled their behavior around that fact. If they don't, then they starve. No hunting, no food. It's survival.

A survival trait which has apparently been bred out of us 'higher' lifeforms, the city folk. We don't just 'reach out to get it' any more. No, now we just purchase.

Hungry? Buy food.

Bored? Buy entertainment.

Horny? Buy sex.

Suffering crushing discouragement by the life-sucking society you live in? Umm... what can you do about that? I guess you could... buy more food, entertainment and sex?

OR

You could see what's behind door number three, and maybe change the world while you're at it. This Perfect World thing, you know, it will creep up on all of us, quietly and with purpose; one family at a time, one community, one town, one city at a time, until we're all doing it. Then it's DONE.

SOMEBODY just has to be the first on your block to swallow your fear of the unknown. Is it going to be YOU?

Will YOU make the CHANGE?

Copyright 2009 Bruce Ian Friedman