In exhilaration I breeze down the motorway. Everything has come together, everything. I drive under a bridge. Its walls, roof and the road explode into a wild samba of dancing coloured lights. Luke Skywalker lives, bombing the Death Star again.
The vehicle has risen from the road surface. I’m in the air. Popping out into bright sunlight, I look for an altitude control. There doesn’t seem to be one. Perhaps telepathy is required.
“Rise,” I say. It doesn’t. “Rise.” Clearly it’s reached its operating height, which can only mean one thing: it’s a hovercraft. That’s cool.
Wanting to get the max out of my hovercraft, I stop to make fine adjustments. I get out and head to the stern of the craft. I bend down on the passenger side. I peer along the side of the vehicle at the rear-view mirror, visible in the wing mirror. I walk to it and adjust it. I go back and peer again and repeat until I can see the dead centre of the driver’s headrest from my position at the back left hand side. I do the same on the right side.
Continuing on towards my destiny, I observe that I can think for hours but very little time passes. In fact it slows, slows until eventually it stops. If time has stopped, that can only mean one thing: I have entered a sort of eternal life: it will be now forever. It’s simply a fact. I don’t need this watch. I unfasten it and throw it out of the window.
Perfect Practice Prevents Poor Performance
I arrive at the motel in Chelmsford where I’m based for my 6 months of sales training with a major blue-chip company specialising in tissue-paper products. They’ve employed me on an accelerated training to management basis. It’s Sunday at the end of my first weekend.
Chris Boulton’s six P’s run through my head. “Perfect practice prevents piss poor performance.” I run through my sales patter mentally, then stand and deliver it out loud.
Not only is what I say correct, but I say it with passion! I punch the air. Content perfect, delivery perfect. Blessed with boundless enthusiasm, exhilaration and energy, no-one can stop me now. There’ll be no piss poor performances from me. Chris Boulton said he’d never known anyone catch on so quickly. Trainees don’t get to do a presentation until week two or so, but he was so confident in me that he’d let me loose on a customer on my third day.
Well, I don’t need him anymore. To someone of my calibre this job is a doddle. Essex is mine, and Bolton can leave.
Time has stopped, but Monday morning will still arrive. It’s a paradox, but it doesn’t bother me. When Boulton knocks on my door for us to go to breakfast, I’ll have a message for him.
I Blu Tack Silver Satin Toilet Tissue brochures and posters of The Fibres on the walls and write marker-pen messages on the mirror urging Boulton to clear off.
Let’s build a digital human
When my own business is up and running and earning millions every year, there’ll be many uses for the money. One that springs to mind is computer software for medical purposes. Blimey, there’s an idea: a computer simulation of a human being, a computerised model.
The genes, the bones, the muscles, the blood vessels, the various glands and organs, the nervous system and the brain. The structural bits like the bones will be easy; the veins are just pipes, the heart, let’s face it, is basically a pump and the liver and kidneys are like janitors, cleaning up the body’s fluids.
As for the nervous system, it’s simply a load of neurons whizzing down nerves, a bit like cars on a road network. The brain… It’s the organ we know the least about. Modelling it will be difficult… but what of it. There must be a thousand experts who can be hired.
But what will this system be used for? Answers come thick and fast. Research. Diagnosis. Prevention.
Create a bespoke model for an individual who has a heart defect. Test it to destruction up a flight of virtual steps or around a virtual block. If conditions giving rise to a heart attack can be simulated, it will be possible to guide a patient as to how much and what sort of exercise they can do to avoid future attacks.
The model will assist sports coaches to nudge athletes towards peak performance.
Surely huge strides in technology will stem from this! I sense a Nobel Prize for Medicine in the air.
Back to the third world
The salvation of the Third World lies in spending large sums in the right ways on the right things. You could call it ‘Saving the third world by social enterprise.’ Why should there be wealth in one place and poverty in another? Poor countries should be allowed to pull out of the mess they’re in. A process of osmosis is required, piping billions from the rich to the poverty-stricken. And not only am I the man to make this happen, I am the conduit the money will be channelled through.
We’ll provide adequate sanitation and wells, we’ll get rid of cholera, typhoid and dysentery.
And let’s irrigate effectively! Why not bring water to the deserts – the Kalahari and the Sahara – and turn them into massive cornfields to feed Africa… and the world! The technology exists. It’s just a question of raising the money.
Back to the money
How to do this? Clearly I must set up a company, make a fortune every year and spend it on Third World infrastructure. A small start: say ten thousand profit in the first year, doubling year on year, causing millions to cascade in – and out to those in need!
End of Blog Post 2