Brendenn Bremmer

      On March 18th, 2005, Brendenn Bremmer put a gun to his head and ended his life. He was 14 years old. He showed no signs of depression, he had remarkable musical talent and intelligence, he graduated high school at age ten. His life was perfect, he was already accomplished, and he was on his way to start a career in anesthesiology. Despite his learning things quickly, he wasn't pushed by his parents, he simply wanted to learn to read among a slew of other things at age three. Brendenn had experience and interest in firearms, so death by accident was ruled out. 

    His mother was a novelist, very Christian, who noted her son's interest in the spiritual world and always doing the right thing; she speculated his suicide was enacted in order to give his organs to those in need; "he came, he taught, he left." His father said, “He’s become a teacher. He says right now he’s actually being taught how to help these people who experience suicides for much messier reasons. Before Brandenn was born, this was planned."

    This event 15 years ago had the nation asking... Why? Why would such a gifted person in a loving family with scant signs of social anxiety or depression end his life with absolutely no warning? I have a theory.

    I am 27 years old, with scant signs of social anxiety or depression, from a loving family, with a successful career as an Air Force pilot. I almost tried to end my life one day with absolutely no warning. Brendenn's story and mine should terrify America. 

    I have musical talent and intelligence. I knew how to fly a plane before I learned to drive a car. My life is perfect, I'm already accomplished, and I have started my career as a pilot. Despite learning things quickly, I wasn't pushed by my parents, I simply wanted to learn electrical engineering among a slew of other things. I am experienced and interested in firearms and any accident in that regard would be unlikely.

    My mother was a novelist, very Christian, and I hope she recognizes my interest in the spiritual world and always doing the right thing. I would never end my life to donate my organs. I don't believe any rational person would do that. I hope my father thinks of me as a teacher to help people and would do anything to end America's mental health crisis that takes 50,000 lives each year.

    I deployed in December. In Germany I took an Ambien and while asleep called my wife and rambled about someone I didn't know named "Janet". The next day while telling me about it, that reminded her to recommend The Good Place. I watched it. That sparked my interest in Ethics, while deployed to a warzone in which we probably don't belong. I also watched Messiah, which sparked my interest in theology. I also read, a lot. In April I went home, and I read more. 

    In July, I decided to follow the example of Eleanor Shellstrop and better myself; so I quit drinking, I started working out, and I started paying more attention to everything I watched and read as a result. At some point in August, I realized all the media I was consuming had something in common. I realized this could be used for good instead of evil or futility, and I may very well have been the first person to have that realization other than people like Brendenn Bremmer.

    The more I paid attention to what I watched and read the less I slept, and my mental health quickly deteriorated to think either I could predict the future, Seth Meyers was talking about me, or God was communicating via coincidences. This happened in a matter of days; while Brendenn Bremmer probably would've kept to himself and carried on, I was extroverted enough to talk to my entire family about my conspiracy theories. And they told me I was crazy but it would all be fixed if I just went to sleep. They were wrong.

    How many other people start to confuse one coincidence after another in rapid succession for God or Seth Meyers talking to them? How many people are told they need to be locked in a mental institution if weird things starts happening to them? Why can't people who are confused about life just go to a psychiatrist, have an honest conversation, and get the medication they need BEFORE they need to be restrained and injected with Lorazepam? 

    As absurdity approaches infinity, the probability of it being real approaches zero. But that does not mean it's impossible for a rational person to flip a coin ten times in a row and predict it every single time. If you watch an hour long standup special from three years ago, and every single joke has some application in something you've thought that day, the chances that time travel is real is still zero, but that does not mean it's impossible to happen. Even though the chances are astronomically low, a rational person would turn to God or science or something bound to their life, instead of admitting the impossible. 

    I believe that is why we have a mental health crisis in this country. Depression and burnout rates are through the roof and luckily COVID may have lead to positive changes in that regard. But for rational healthy people, they may eventually realize that this world is absolutely absurd and God is talking to them even though he would want us all to survive. They just think they can get to something better.

“You see, we don’t know how to explain these kids — not scientifically.”

The Feedback Loop

On 29 July 2020, my life changed. I stopped drinking, bought a kayak, and went fishing. My wife and I had purchased a trailer and straps and all the necessary accoutrements so loading should've been a breeze. It wasn't. The kayak would get crooked, the straps twisted, and it took half an hour. "This system needs to be better", I thought. 

There is one system in particular that has always fascinated me: the positive feedback loop. That is when the output is increased by a factor, and fed back into the same system as an input. With it, scales near infinity can be reached fairly quickly. Drinking is a positive feedback loop. You drink, you become hungover, and you drink to overcome it. It's a dirty hack of our own minds. And as I said, drinking at scales near infinity can be reached fairly quickly with this particular feedback model. But what if you applied a positive feedback loop, well, positively? What would happen?

I thought of that while spending another thirty minutes trying to tie down a kayak. If I could just incrementally make it easier, the efficiency would skyrocket, and quickly too. The first trip I discovered it's far easier if you remember which direction the clip needs to to be facing. The second trip I discovered the straps won't twist if you lay them out before wrapping. The third trip I found you only need two straps, not three. Those incremental improvements, while insignificant in their own right, become part of a system to tie down a kayak as quickly as possible.

The best part is no one had to teach me. There are hundreds of YouTube videos about tying down kayaks; I know, I've seen them. I could've asked my in-laws how they do it. But I didn't have to. All it took were small inputs, multiplied over time. It no longer takes me 30 minutes to tie down my kayak, but I thought to myself, "okay, that worked, but it was too easy. A feedback loop can't possibly be the secret to menial chores." With that I started experimenting. 

Sobriety, nobody wants it but some people need it. I'm not one of those people, but I was drinking a lot, and I did want to cut back. So how can we reduce something with feedback? Introducing the negative feedback loop, the deranged twin of positive feedback. How can we take every input to a system, and reduce it over time?

Well, step one: remove alcohol from the house. That's easy enough. Step two: don't go places where there is alcohol. Step three: do something else. Kayak fishing was perfect. All I had to do was go fishing and not drink at the same time, and I would not drink. When I got home, if I had to mow the lawn, I would mow the lawn and not drink. Starting at day one, this seems impossible. However, every single task or miniature adventure led to some dopamine being released with a lack of alcohol, and that was important to me. This is the negative feedback loop; every input goes through the system, the output is lower than it started, and it goes through again. You can reach zero, or approach an asymptote to zero, fairly quickly with these as well.   

That's two points for feedback loops. Then I started getting cocky, what if we tried layering feedback loops onto each other. I'm just gonna apply some negative feedback to combat my urge to sleep in, throw in something positive to take better care of my house, I'll figure out how to best structure my weekend by developing a feedback loop for planning the day. Oh, it went well. I was tackling three or four house projects per weekend, working out everyday, reading, still had time for fishing and screwing around; the implication was clear. This system works. And it works a lot better than the previous system I had.

There were THREE WEEKS of this bliss in life. Things worked, I worked, the system worked. Sometimes the line was blurred with trial and error, that's how much I can trivialize efficiency. Can't back a trailer on the first try at your favorite fishing spot? Well pick a tree, try aiming for that. Didn't work? Pick a new tree. It's still positive feedback as long as you get closer to the goal with each stroke. After a handful of tries, if you have a good memory for which tree worked, you're gonna back that trailer in dead center every time from then on.

So, where did it all go wrong? Things got weird after that. Really weird. MacDill found a guided missile at the Lakeland Airport and the US Postal Service was being sabatoged by the president and there's this website called Imgur. and I had the bright idea of applying a positive feedback loop to gain fake points on the internet. 

I Had a Dream

Good morning, I had a dream last night. In it, I was playing with dynamite in Washington State. But I never blew myself up, because I knew how dynamite worked. Actually, it may have been ammonium nitrate. That would make a lot more sense. I'm guessing you saw the dramatic explosion that took out Beruit (if not, drop everything and watch it now). I ended up down the Google rabbit hole reading about ammonium nitrate, and was aghast to find that similar ammonium nitrate explosions have happened dozens of times throughout history. In fact, so many have happened recently that there are 3 or 4 caught on camera, like Beirut or Tiangjin.... The Beruit explosion was 2750 tonnes of ammonium nitrate. The Oklahoma City bombing was 0.18 tonnes of the same. The biggest nitrate explosion, however, happened in 1921 in post WW1 Germany, at 4,500 tonnes. So I started reading about that... In WW1 Germany, they used ammonium sulfate for artillery, but we're running out of sulfur. So they started making a 50/50 cocktail of ammonium sulfate/nitrate. Well, when those chemicals are stored together they liquify and harden, becoming a solid resembling plaster or dry wall. Since it was stored in silos, it was very difficult to retrieve because they had to mine it out with pickaxes. Until they found a quicker method: blowing up the silo with dynamite (that is 100% true look it up). They literally were using dynamite to blow out their bomb reagants. Now, the Germans had sworn up and down that this was safe, and done tests to show that as long as it'll less than 60% nitrate it WONT blow up. In fact, throughout WW1 they used the dynamite method 20,000 times to retrieve their explosives, without anything bad happening. But their tests were flawed, it's not the composition that mattered for stability, it was humidity of the substance. As long as it's above 2% humidity, it won't blow up, and as it came out of the factory it was 3-4% so it didn't. Until it had six years to dry in the silos, then it was below 2% humidity, and they dropped an actual dynamite charge into a 4,500 tonnes silo of explosives. Boom. The Germans no longer use dynamite in conjunction with their explosives. And from what I can tell, the Lebanese no longer store their confiscated explosives in Hangar 12 of the port.

I Had a Dream

Good morning. I had a dream last night that I played with dynamite in Washington State. I didn't blow myself up, necessarily, maybe because it was ammonium nitrate instead of nitroglycerin. That's a big difference. I'm assuming you've heard

Show Your Work

little more time. thanks for showing me that.

The Internet: Where everything's made up, but the points still matter...

 The sins of the son are not the sins of the father.

Do you really want to go on a Pixar-level adventure? Do you want to experience all the tropes of growth, betrayal, and growth again? Are you SURE you want to live and breathe every moment of it, just like I have? Remember, consent is STILL the most important thing in a room, or a house, or a country, or the world. But fine, I'll give it to myself. 

Let's start with me saying that I have never been abused. Period. Dot. Full stop. Hold short. Line up and wait. Now read it again if you need.

  My parents may not live forever, but at the very least I can predict they will live long lives and die naturally. My dad is an actuary (recently retired), that means he's an expert on probability and very mathematically intelligent. My mom was in sales for a while, including after I was born in West Palm Beach. She spent a lot of her later years as a romance writer, I have a hunch I'm a character in a few of her books. I did not consent to that but I find it ironically amusing so I consented after the fact to help sell her writing. 

I was an only child in a loving home. I may have been adopted, but all data points to a very normal childhood. I always felt I was extraordinarily lucky to have been born into my family by chance; despite wanting to go to Rio de Janeiro and own a yacht as badly as I did, I was thankful to have parents to spend time with and could forget about things like fame. Nothing was wrong, year after year. When problems did arise, we could have a discussion about what to do next. My dad would always remind me: "Do you still want to be a pilot? Because this thing you're hooked on will prevent you."

Until about a week ago, I always answered yes, and changed my behavior to fit into the "Air Force Pilot" proud-father-and-son persona. But this time I had lied, and it was a huge fucking lie. When I realized what I had done, and it took a while, I could no longer answer yes until I'd fixed it. I had to change my behavior away from being a pilot and husband. My father and mother being alive are worth far more to me than some cloth wings on my flight suit. That's why I've been so weird lately: I had to tell everyone without confirming the bias of anyone.

Betrayal is a real thing, just like currency. It can be exchanged as easily as making a transaction, you can build on it, layer after layer, and off of it you can become rich. Is that a world we want to live in? Where you can't tell if a pedophile really died by suicide? I don't. I want a world in which mental health appointments aren't career-ending or divorce-forcing affairs. I want a world where the microphone in my phone will rat me out for having a beer or missing a workout, but not something I said with three people in the house when I was bursting at the seams with anger. Unfortunately, that world isn't ours yet; it's not even Altered Carbon's world yet. 

The problem with having a beer to relax with your family, is I may honest-to-God make a mistake that can never be truly undone. It's as close to thoughtcrime as possible, it's disgusting to even think about unless you're totally honest. It may take years or decades to undo such a betrayal, but every time I see my family alive the truth gets reinforced and confirmed. You lose the power of thought when you're under the influence. You lose the ability to consent, to recognize consent, to recognize your own mind's power. That's morality at work. 

We have so many currencies it's impossible to keep track. There's cryptocurrency, penny stocks, pennies themselves, gold, credit, or silver coins with Caligula's face imprinted. Happiness is the opposite of betrayal.

Morality is the currency of the Universe. Well, no. Energy is the currency of the Universe, in it there are four forces. Morality is something different, it's more binary than the rest of the world. Living a life with ethics and morals in mind scales greatly when you want powers such as forcing a hurricane away from you or willing a pond into filling with water. It scales even quicker when you start making decisions based off of social media accounts or Google, whose algorithms are fined tune to reward you as long as you keep scrolling. This effect is extremely powerful, as I've come to learn after Googling it. 

Allow me to explain why I think I was chosen for this particular book. There's so many books on the White House coming out every day, why does mine matter more? Why do I matter? Well, at some point, tech companies started reaping the harvest that is our data. In February 2003, Google acquired Blogger.com, and thus acquired almost every word I've ever written about my awesome, interesting life online. That shouldn't matter, they harvest everyone's data. Billions of people are stored somewhere, and that's creepy until you figure out how to use it to your advantage. What came next, I believe, was a chess match between me and a supercomputer, and eventually I believe a team of people became involved; but my life up until now has been a intelligence face-off of epic proportions. And I WON! (We won. We all won.).

Google does not have the power to create a hurricane. I know that for a fact because my refrigerator might've stopped making noise. Google does not have the power to force a hurricane away from Tampa, Florida. There's only one person alive who's smart enough to predict something like that. Only entity I can think of, that during a media blackout, could predict someone's pool and pond refilling within days of his dad coming to the aide of his deteriorating mental health. Of course in hindsight, there was a tropical depression leading to more rain than we've had in months. How could that be possible and me not know about it?

Well, the first thing I had to do to find out, was apologize to my extended family for texting them hundreds of messages which were predetermined (by me), at four in the morning. Behavior like that is what gets you committed; but in the end they accepted my apology and the pond filled up in less than a day. 

In the next chapter: Perpetual Motion Machine of Morality. I'd love to keep writing but I have a tumor on my neck that's making me lose sleep and act very hyperactively. Google hyperthyroidism, then Google hypothyroidism which is what my wife has. There are no coincidences in the Universe.

Short Thoughts on Record

 Let me just say once and for all:

You can say a-queue-stick.

You can say a-coo-stick.

But it has to match the way you say coupon. 

That is all. Gif inserted here. Subliminal messaging works for baby boomers too.

There are no coincidences in the Universe.

Connecticut is a beautiful place. I've actually been there, but only once. It didn't look particularly fascinating but I only drove through "Bridgeport". I've been to New England a total of three times however, and that made me realize something.

The rest of this is purely speculation; I haven't been in the office in months so I've had a lot of time to think quietly to myself. I can literally no longer do that and write a book about my mental health adventures. I have not slept well in almost two months. This has not yet been properly fact-checked. Whether you think this is all made up by me to make a point or not, it'll be on the politicians of this country to decide.

First, I want to get the facts straight. Connecticut is a very pretty whitewashed place. It has all four seasons, although I can't stand three of them and that's why some people choose to live in Florida instead. The autumn tourist season is drawing near, but there's currently a travel ban on the state. The state's name is a portmanteau of Connect and I cut. Too real yet? Read on... I was never read into the rules, and I was able to figure this out independently until my brilliant wife caught on three weeks ago. Then I was involuntarily committed. You do the math on that, I'm too lazy.  

There are no coincidences in the Universe. As far as I can tell, I'm the very first person to think of that quote... in September of 2016. Let's see if I can prove it in exchange for Donald Trump's resignation. Or do we want four more years? Four more years. four more years. 4 mo yrs. Four mo trs. Four i tears. Fourier Transform. 

Who's heard of Pol Pot? He was the leader of the Khmer Rouge. Oh you don't speak French Mr. Trump family? IT MEANS RED. The Khmer Rouge was responsible for torturous atrocities which boggle the mind. They rounded up all the educated people in the country and sent them to Choeung Ek. They were the ones who gave a shit about political parties.

I apologize to anyone who was concerned about my families well-being because I kept getting angry. I get angry sometimes. Sometimes I get sad. Sometimes I write.

Sports are dangerous. Read: child sex trafficking and sweating Duke. Seriously, read about it and watch a Sports Center ad. I'll wait. This is why I think sportscasters have a very difficult job at remaining unbiased. Politicians don't have that luxury. Who fucking knows why I've spent my whole life watching Ancient Aliens and drinking white wine to fall asleep for three years (not before flying, duh). Who else has this problem that I thought was unique to me and the Trump dynasty? Why does it seem like Trump makes decisions based on himself while the housing market seems to be decided by a coin flip? WHY THE FUCK IS MY NEIGHBORHOOD STILL SEGREGATED DONALD DRUMPF?

Why do pilots say "see ya" on the radio, except the one's who despise the tradition? Could it be because it's spelled "CYA"? Who knows, it could be another stupid coincidence. I promised someone on Imgur the answers to all the questions I've raised about my life. So here we go, strap in.

I am very well traveled and good at manipulation. I was able to manipulate my own parents into treating me to a trip to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Whoops. The wind just blew. A total freak coincidence. But due to the rules I've spent a lot of time discovering, I have to change the subject or go to sleep. I'm wide awake right now, so while we wait for the storm to pass in Florida during hurricane season, listen to this beautiful song. My childhood friend is really into music and I love him for it. But if you do, turn the bass all the way up so everyone in your circle knows you're not in duress while reading this. Consent is EXTREMELY important for me, and I'm writing this as fast as I can type. Sorry for typos, no one ever got back to me about editing this book other than Google, a Pixel 5G and T-Mobile.

And we're back. Alive and well. My wife came upstairs to my study to tell me the music was too loud and she's trying to study, so I got out my Bose A20 headset. They're probably the best headset on the market for pilots like me and I got them for free. There are still no coincidences in the Universe.

I was in the middle of telling you my level of education. I have a high school diploma in the one school district that was involved in a Supreme Court case involving busing black kids into the suburbs, and busing rich kids into the ghetto; all to fight segregation. I then went to a university that was famous for one-and-done athletic scholarships; our rival was Louisville and "Duke". I signed up for Mechanical Engineering, in order to raise my chances of getting an Air Force ROTC scholarship. I found metallurgy too boring, and quickly changed my major to Electrical Engineering. EE is arguably the harder degree to get, but for some reason the magic of it left an impression on my mind. I took a 5th year, not because I needed it or anything (that's a total lie for my own ego), but because a victory lap all but ensured my pilot slot due to how the regulations were written. I spent the last year in college polishing off my accomplishments with great undo stress. I also formed a system to mentor younger cadets on raising their chances of becoming pilots along with me. 

I tried to get located at Columbus MS for pilot training, but instead got Laughlin which in my opinion is by far the best base for that. I spent my first phase of training barely studying and failing three checkrides, enabled only by great anxiety. Then we got to the formation flying, the most difficult unless you have talent at flying (we all do, not exaggerating). Formation is when we do loops and flips and shit while 6 to 9 feet away from another airplane. It's a ton of fun.

What else happened in this time, let's see here... scotch, beer, more scotch, more beer, drop nights, "four more years" being chanted at the one unlucky dude every three weeks. It was a blur, but it was entertaining. My wife won Key Spouse of the Year award on February 9th, 2018; which is a date I wrote in her yearbook after dating her only a few weeks (yeah gentlemen, soul mates are real, honesty is real, and powers of attorney are real, the "Best Place" is real; for us at least...) Still no coincidences thus far. 

Let's back up. Other important shit happened in high school. I started journaling in my own unique way: letter's to myself. I found it fascinating I could communicate with my future self. Even if past self was an asshole sometimes, at least he could make future self laugh. I took it to another level when I started this very blog, for no other reason than to countdown to Spring Break, and to give myself plenty of reading material on the flight to Florida (I was born in West Palm Beach. Don't think to hard about that Donnie). My initial motivations to write was to prove I could write better than Maya Angelou during my senior... but within a few weeks it had matured into topics such as why depression rates and alcoholism are so high in Alaska. 

Within a year I was in college, the year of journaling started affecting my decision making. I welcomed my wife into the world of Microsoft Flight Simulator, this may seem selfish but she's just so fucking good with checklist discipline that it did nothing but help me as a professional pilot. By then I was journaling about flying, which led to my ultimate achievement in life, barring nothing else: becoming an Air Force Pilot. Everything would just fall into place after that. Because there are no coincidences in the Universe. 

We got the ultimate flying assignment on drop night, the ultimate training in heavy aircraft (which I'd rather fly than single seat ejection-armed aircraft), the ultimate house and pool in Florida, one amazing work trip after another. That made sense to me, because I try to be nice to people. When our flight to Rio was canceled, I patiently waited in line with my dad to have the American Airlines gate attendant rebook us on another airline. I treated her with respect because it's not her fault my American Airlines stock went up right after I bought it. 

One day in August 2020 however, my unified theory of everything changed. I sounded crazy to everyone in my family, for almost a week and no one stopped me. Then I realized I could predict the future, for two hours. Every random rain shower, every lightning strike to the second, every suggested video on Youtube, every cat yawn... literally I could predict EVERYTHING for two hours. I told my dad that he shared this super power because I just told him he did, I told him we need to grow this sphere of influence slowly and incrementally. But he knew the probability of that was zero, so it didn't take. I still told him my powers would subside at 3:00pm of that day. They did. And that should not be possible. 

Four days later (I think, memory of the following days escapes me for some odd reason), I was involuntarily admitted to a mental hospital. It took nine days to get me out, but I will never sue the hospital because every nurse and patient, some of whom seemed to initially think I was the second coming of Jesus Christ, they were always there for me and treated me with respect. I technically agreed to all of it because I was so sure Donald Trump would call me, and he never did. That would be an absurd prediction that I couldn't manipulate. 

Wanna know the final answer? The one other thing I discovered this year as well as 2016 and all throughout my life? The ONE thing that led me in every lie, every cryptic interaction, every tweet I've ever sent? Does Hillary Clinton or Joe Rogan or Pete Buttigeg or Gov Kasich still want to know? It's super easy to grasp in a few sentences...

"As absurdity approaches infinity, probability of it being real approach zero. The rest just takes time."

"There are no coincidences in the Universe." - me, September 10th, 2016. I really hope we never forget this time. 

Mission Accomplished! Shellstrop OUT! CYA! *Mic drop*. Now you can listen to Starboy to find some of my more frivolous motivations, which is literally every song on the radio right now other than country music. Pigday! Thanks for the free content Seth Meyers and John Oliver! Read the Starfish story, it really does matter.

SSSSSSSSEE-YA!

Today, September 7th...

My wife and I went for a walk through the neighborhood. Then I went for a run when I realized most of the neighborhood was still segregated, and we only go walking in the white parts. So instead of turning left like my usual run, I turned right.

A line of police cars in the distance and a podcast made me turn around, and sprint home as fast as I could.

And that should not be possible.

Pigday, I love you all and pray for everyone's safety

I told myself a few weeks ago that I was no longer going to write this chapter. I am not the morality police, nor am I a pharmacist; so by the time anyone reads this, hopefully it will have been heavily fact-checked and edited. Aspects like coherence and contrivance should overcome disbelief despite the fact I'm writing this while watching Joe Rogan, listening to Stuff You Should Know and Kygo, three days after being discharged from a mental hospital. Now I'm listening to music, I believe that's important for mental health.

The problem with a low-risk, highly contagious virus is...

What do "unintended consequences" mean to you? My wife works in a pharmacy. She told me when the flu virus came out this year, less people volunteered to get it despite the free gift card with which it came. Now she says her pharmacy is on par with normal, it just took one extra week. How could that be? This is an example of what I would call an unintended consequence, or it simply could be a coincidence.

Why would any sane person refuse $10 in exchange for a flu vaccine during a pandemic? Why would any sane person be committed to a mental hospital?Why would any sane person refuse free money? Because even vaccines have a causal sphere of morality and ethics, although many people might not realize it.

The coronavirus vaccine is going to take a while to produce. This book will in all possibility be published before a vaccine is distributed to everyone in the world. This could be because of synesthesia and Fourier Transforms (just trust me on this, or ask an systems engineer or look it up yourself, be my guest); but even if we rushed the development of the vaccine and it came out tomorrow, it will not be enough for everyone in the world to safely go outside. People will still die of coronavirus well into the future.

We need to consider the economics of scale, or really just the concept of scale itself. Most experts agree that the coronavirus vaccine will require two injections. There are over 7 billion people in the world. In order to get just the "most wealthy" countries completely vaccinated overnight, it would require an absolute shit-show. Two stages multiplied by America's needed vaccination rate could be over half a billion doses of vaccine. Even if we could produce that overnight, imagine how many people would want to get it in 2020. Now imagine, as I am writing this, how many people would want access to it tomorrow. The car accidents and traffic jams alone would, or at least could, erase every single life saved by the vaccine. Or maybe they wouldn't; I'm not an expert on vaccines.

Back to the ethics of COVID-19, it appears that experts are trying to speed up the vaccination process as much as possible. One of the ways they can do this is by overlapping the different phases of trials while doing everything in their power to analyze it's safety on humans. The best way to shave time off the process is to purposely infect those who are low risk of having complications, even after having a new vaccine. This is the twisted way to test the safety of a vaccine on humans rapidly, and no one wants to do it other than millennials with no dependents or preexisting conditions. This is called a "human challenge trial".

There's a problem however: millennials will do ANYTHING to help save the world, even if it puts them at risk. Institutions however, such as universities, are very resistant to rapid change especially at the hands of the young. The producers of the vaccine know exactly the risk involved, maybe even less than 0.01%, but they don't know if the vaccine will work or how to best treat those infected with the virus. A human challenge trial of this proportion may require thousands upon thousands of young people to test. Do the math on your own, 10,000 x 0.01%. It's one. If the vaccine fails, then statistically one person may be volunteering their own death. That is a big fucking moral dilemma for Oxford University and millennials like me.

There are already tens of thousands of willing young people who've already potentially signed their life away. Including me, and I'm not too worried about it.

Let's talk about language, Cockney Rhyming Slang and duress words to be specific. (Fair trigger warning: this part may be harder to read if you've been effected by mental health or suicide). My wife and I have a secret to a happy marriage; it's honest communication. There, the big secret of the book is out of the bag and hopefully you still want to know more. 

Cockney Rhyming Slang originates from the east side of London. It has a very interesting logic to it; it's way easier to just go through examples of it until it makes sense. The term "fart" becomes translated to "blowing rapsberries", because fart rhymes with "raspberry tart". Yes, that is how it works. The first word relates to the second word which rhymes with the original word, but the rhymed word can get lost in translation and dropped over time. This makes it very difficult for linguists to track certain English slang terms, much like Egyptian hieroglyphs prior to cracking the Rosetta Stone. 

My wife and I use a similar system. In fact, we always joke that if we were trapped on a deserted island somewhere, with everything we needed but connection to the outside world, our language would devolve into complete nonsense. We've noticed this by what we call our cats, but also how we communicate with each other. 

One night in college while we were in bed watching Pokemon on our Roku, we discovered a little devil named "Pignite". Pignite, obviously a portmanteau of Pig and Ignite, evolves from "Tepig" which essentially means lukewarm. The logic was so clear, we stole it. To this day, we still will not fall sleep angry. And we never fall asleep before saying "Pignite, I love you (too:)". It was perfect, so what happened that fucked it all up?

I was checked into a mental institution involuntarily, and we were very close to running out of genuine duress words. That's a problem no one should have. 

A duress word is a covert distress signal used by an individual who is being coerced by one or more hostile persons. It is used to warn others that they are being forced to do something against their will. It's something slight enough that it can be slipped into normal conversation, but obvious that your own wife will react very problematically if she ever hears it. 

But it's not always bad, it can be a code for how well things are going. It can convey happiness in secret, like when your in-laws are driving you nuts and you're trying not to burst out laughing. A good duress word can mean anything, only you get to decide. 

It will work. Every. Single. Time. If you've taken the effort and time to think of 2-3 codes that you and your spouse will never forget, you can always safely communicate; even while in a mental institution. For some people that is very important. 

One of our words was Pigday, it essentially meant "have a good trip to the store!" Like rhyming slang, we've absolved the word of all original logic. It's a great duress word for positivity. Although we can't use it anymore, because I just wrote it down. We'll still use it though, and we'll come up with new words soon. 

You probably should too. You never know when it will come in handy.

Walking in Circles (7?)

 "Emily, what time is breakfast?"

"8:00am, same as every other day."

"Sean, how long until breakfast?"

"Ummm... just 30 more minutes bud."

"Dorsey, can I have a snack?"

"Snack time is an hour and a half after breakfast, you know that."

I looked at the clock, 7:30am, confirming every nurse in the building was being honest. The stoplight was unplugged, they must've finally realized I figured out how they were using time to manipulate me. Using the concept of time to get your way is a real dick move, but I suppose it was their last trick left. Now even the clock was unable to lie to anyone. 

Breakfast was more of the same. The few patients who still thought I was the second coming of Christ attempted to let me cut them in line, the few who still thought I was the Antichrist attempted to keep me from eating, Rose and Shailah still thought they could copy my antics in order to get more ice cream. Everyone else was getting as much apple juice as they were allowed because they know all too well how much I enjoy my juice and that I probably won't eat my ice cream. 

Francesca was yelling at everyone in front of me, "Ya'll mothafuckas know he can only get one ice cream so just get your food and get the fuck out of the way I'm hungry!"

I ate my usual eggs and bacon with apple juice, handed my ice cream over to Michael in exchange for more juice, and was ready to go back to my room to read the paper and "go to sleep" until snack time. Emily was my 1-to-1 nurse for the time being, and informed me I really should wait a few more minutes for group therapy. 

"What the fuck is group therapy? I've been here a week and a half, we've never done group therapy", I stated. 

"Well we're doing it today, it's more of an announcement. You'll see. One of the nurses from the other wing is leading it. Her name is Sylvia."

'Oh and let me guess her middle name is Ester and last name Stalone? No... no no no no, don't say that, shit like that is why I'm here. Stupid fucking coincidences...'

A large black woman came into the dining room and introduced herself, I'd never seen her before but she had a very welcoming appearance and tone. She began updating the announcements on the white board. 'Shower time 8:30 to 10:30, laundry time 11:00 to 12:00, mandatory nap time 12:30 until bed time; and she wrote a new 'message of the day'.

You are incredibly special. God has made you extremely unique for a reason. No matter what anyone says, don't let anyone change what's in your heart.

'Hmmmm... Alright, I'll stay and see what this is all about. But if we start praying I'm out.'

Sylvia started her speech, "I want everyone to know that everyone in this room has been touched by God in one way or another. And our special guest who's been visiting the hospital will be leaving soon." 

'Jesus fucking Christ, this isn't helping with the whole Antichrist rumor floating around.'

"But one way or another, we can still learn as much as we can, so for the rest of the day everyone can enjoy unlimited board game time, outside access, and TV privileges, to include the news and American Dad."

'FINALLY! I can finally find out if President Trump is in jail and if Ghislaine Maxwell died by suicide in an empty cell with no working cameras. Fuck it's happening again; I sound crazy don't I?'

Sylvia continued, glaring at me and only me; "and last but not least, we have some new rules that EVERYONE needs to follow, especially YOU:

1. You must not interfere with any other patients mental healthcare, no matter what. You can still talk to your friends, but under no circumstances will you impact their progress as a patient. We all owe that to each other. 
2. Today is 'No-Fall Friday', meaning that NO ONE is allowed to fall down. If you need to 'go to sleep' for any reason, you need to lie down as slowly and carefully as possible. Once you're 'asleep', a nurse or tech will come help you if you're unable to get up on your own. "

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sylvia gave me a lot to think about as I finished my bacon. I nodded solemnly to Emily as I retreated to my room to read the paper. The sports section was titled "The Great Unknown", about Rob Gronkowski and Tom Brady starting regular practice for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers with the Super Bowl being hosted in Tampa later in the season. (The Great Unknown... can't find the link but... cute. I've emailed the TB Times so I can quote the article because there are a lot of homosexual innuendos in the article and I honestly can't tell if they are tongue-in-cheek or unintentional coincidences)

The next article I noticed was an article about cats in the Life and Culture section (https://www.tampabay.com/life-culture/pets/2020/08/31/cole-and-marmalade-back-online-after-cat-lawsuit-is-settled/). The story was about two cats, Cole and Marmalade, two apparently famous cats in the Bay Area. 

"They’re back, they’re still cute and their owners can again legally post as many photos of their frisky antics as they want.”

Apparently, a lawsuit prevented the cats' owners from posting pictures of the cats to social media. They settled out of court, and the digital media company seemed to have folded because of the amount of money they were losing over two cats. The cats are now allowed back on Instagram and Facebook, to much relief of everyone. 

"It’s great to be back,” said Josephs, who sits on the board of two Tampa Bay cat rescues. “I was upset with us not being able to make videos at a time when people needed to watch silly cat videos the most. The world needed that."

I suddenly stopped caring about watching the news or American Dad, and wondered if my wife had found any new kittens to foster after Finn's untimely death. There are no coincidences in the universe.

I clipped the two headlines out of the paper (The Great Unknown and Cole and Marmalade back online  after cat lawsuit settled) and taped them to the hospital's front desk. Then I changed my behavior, following my discovery that an increase in randomness results in a decrease in one's ability to be manipulated; whether it be by hunger, new rules, or a clock and stoplight on the wall. 

"Emily, I can't think very well while standing still, I'm just gonna pace back in forth in the hallway while I think of ideas for a book I'm writing." She said that's a great idea; as long as she could see me and I'm not behind any closed doors she could just sit at her computer while I walked the hall. 

I began a stroll from my room towards the locked door to the discharge desk where my wedding ring was stored in a safe and led to my ticket to get the fuck out of here. I reread the cheap plaque on the door for the hundredth time, and about-faced while considering the riddle once more. 

To leave hospital:
1. Approach door, it is locked.
2. Turn around. 

3. Ensure no patients are within line of sight.

4. Swipe YOUR identification badge.

5. Make a royal exit.

6. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. UNEXPECTED ELOPEMENT IS POSSIBLE UNTIL RETRIEVING BELONGINGS FROM SECURITY. (Security had my Wedding Ring locked in a safe at the discharge desk, it took me a while to figure out what that cryptic 6th step meant until I met my fake wife a few days prior).

As I got closer to the door, an orderly from another wing approached the door from the other side, swiped her ID badge, and let herself into my hallway. I glanced over my shoulder, the patients were still in Group Therapy (Fuck yeah. Let's do this and peace out now.) The orderly smiled and gave me The Queen's Wave and I was very prepared to slip through the door behind her.

"WILLIAM! WHERE ARE YOU GOING!?" Emily shouted from down the hall. Two other nurses began running towards me, security from the discharge desk was on the move as well. 

"Well you told me I'm leaving today, there are no patients in sight, the door is open, I saw the Queen's wave, what am I doing wrong?"

Emily stammered. "It's... it's just not time yet. Just trust me, you need another appointment with the psychiatrist. If it doesn't go well, I promise you'll be out of here by tonight. You can still pace... just not by the door." 

I realized I had gained one last and final trick: Walking in Circles. "Hey Emily can I go outside? I thought it was No-Fail Friday. I mean No-Fall Friday.

"Of course you can, but you know when you do that all the other patients are going to stop watching Fresh Prince of Bel Air and want to go outside with you. It's 92° outside, so that wouldn't be my first choice, but go for it. I'm about to switch with Dorsey so he'll be your 1-to-1 for a few hours." (A 1-to-1 patient requires a nurse or tech to be in constant visual contact with a patient, even while asleep, even while showering, 24/7, due to increased suicide or self harm risks. In retrospect I should not have been the only patient on the 1-to-1 list in the entire hospital. That should not be possible.)

"Awesome, thanks. I really just want to read while getting sunlight and exercise." 

I went to the book cart and picked out a very short paperback titled Happiness and Living Sober that I had found it a few days back and had been hiding inside of a Book of Mormon for future use. I had no reason to read it, but I did have a purpose for it. It was in the order of 30 pages and the title took up most of the cover, so anyone paying attention could tell exactly what I was reading; hopefully Francesca would follow me outside and catch on quickly. She was by far the smartest patient, despite her addictions and profanity, which really made me consider life and it's circumstances. No matter how smart you are, no matter how resourceful; life has separate degrees of difficulty. That fact will never evade you; but every Civil Rights movement, every abolishment of archaic laws, every protest or riot in the name of fairness pushes the world in the right direction. And no matter the circumstances you face, white or black or drug addicted or not, society is no match for the lengths of time once we all agree to give up manipulating the system. It took me a week in a mental institution for my white-washed brain to realize that me manipulating the system usually ended with the same result as pure honesty and changing my behavior until something worked. And eventually, something always worked. 

"Heyyyyyyyy bitch you going outside!? Fuck American Dad man let's go!" Frankie said as Dorsey unlocked the courtyard door. 

"I'm just gonna read and walk in circles Frankie, you don't have to come outside if you don't want to."

"Fuck that man you and I are running this place for the rest of the day! I'm following you. I wanna know what that book says. I'll just sit quietly while you're reading in circles."

"Walking in circles." I quickly corrected her. Frankie, Dorsey, and I went out to the narrow courtyard and I started a little holding pattern, tripled the drift, and adjusted my walking speed until each lap was about a minute long. Quick math revealed about 200 laps until I could finally get past that stupid door at 12:30 and then I'd just have to avoid every fake wife between there and my real wife who'd likely be picking me up in three or four hours. 

"So you're just gonna walk?" Dorsey asked, clearly bored already.

"Yup. In circles. 198 left. It helps me think while I read."

"I thought you weren't addicted to anything. Also what happened to watching the news?"

"I'm not but that's not why I'm reading it. And I already read the news, the sports page told me everything I need to know."

A Latino patient came out grabbed the basketball, and invited me to shoot hoops. Even after a week I still never caught his name, but I'd occasionally chat and trade ice cream in exchange for juice or Oreos. I always felt bad for the patients who seemed totally normal but were involuntarily committed here just like I was. I wonder what crucial mistake they made to their family, to law enforcement, to a nurse in the ER, or whoever in order to deserve being locked up. People like him are why I steadily stopped minding being locked up myself, if my experience could just prevent one person from being committed unnecessarily with some slap-dick diagnoses, it'd be worth my time writing this. If I was able to change state laws and medical literature based on the heavy documentation of my shitshow of a case, I might even be okay with sacrificing flying. Even those with bipolar disorders can fly as passengers, assuming I still have access to money.  

"Sorry man, I'm not really in the mood for shooting hoops. I'm just walking in circles and reading for the time being, but if the ball bounces my way I'll take a shot." He smiled, and kept playing. 

"DORSEY WHAT THE FUCK!? YOU AIN'T EVEN WATCHING HIM! You dumb mothafucker you're just playing on your phone you ain't watching shit man! Will ain't on suicide watch we all know sure-as-shit this white dude ain't gonna off yourself so why the fuck are ya'll pretending he is!?" Frankie had another violent mood swing. She started shaking and climbing on picnic tables. 

Emily and Sylvia came running out. "Frankie do you need to go to sleep!? We can make you go to sleep... you need to stop thinking about William and think about yourself and your progress. Don't forget it's No-Fall Friday."

"FUCK that shit! A washed up pregnant crackhead should not be the only person in this whole fucking hospital who knows he doesn't fucking belong here. Who else is like him in here!? The longer he's here the longer 50 fucking nurses have to pull 18 hour shifts and the more the real patients start to realize we all just human beings except one fucking doctor who's the DEVIL!" Frankie always made very good points, sometimes better than I could, but articulation and coherence is a key factor in being taken seriously and unfortunately most patients, no matter how right or wrong, could not articulate any bullshit or any bias. Even I was unable to do that. And that observation should be taken with significant wait. 

"Frankie why don't you just go to sleep on that picnic table, and we'll all leave you alone. It'll just be William and Dorsey and Emily and whoever else wants to come outside."

"Oh yeah so the white military pilot dude walking around reading a book on sobriety is the dude you gotta keep an eye on. Makes no sense to me but fuck it I'll just lay down then." And she laid down on the picnic table in the shade and 'went to sleep' - silent, eyes closed, calm, motionless.

Another patient came outside once things calmed down. He was black and athletic. I never got his name either, but that was mainly because I never heard him talk. I don't know if he didn't talk for mental health reasons (e.g. nonverbal), or if he was mute, or what his situation was; but he was quiet and moved slowly and deliberately. He came outside, nodded silently towards me, I nodded back while walking, and he slowly sat down in the middle of the courtyard on the hot pavement closing his eyes. 

No-Fall Friday. I finally understood it: Protest. Safe, calm, concise, articulate protest. And I was unable to do anything about it because Sylvia made it very clear I was not to interfere with anyone's mental healthcare. But I may have fucked it up. I decided to walk in circles in the hot sun on the hot pavement instead of just watching the news about riots and racism and police brutality like Sean and Emily expected me to do all day. That's the problem with changing your behavior randomly and doing things so drastically out of character, it can just as easily hurt your cause. 

Time will truck on however, and if you have the right conditions can always think of a solution to bring it full circle in a timely manner. Frankie was lying on a picnic table in the shade, I passed her once per lap which was once per minute. The silent protester was dead center in the narrow courtyard, so I passed him twice per lap or every 30 seconds. And even though I wasn't allowed to interfere, I could still talk to my friends and even offer help. 

"Hey man, you okay? You look a little hot down there on the pavement." He didn't move. I kept walking 

"Hey man you thirsty? I can get you some cold water." He didn't move. I continued on. 

"Hungry? I can probably get snack time moved up an hour or two." Nothing. 

"Will you at least tell me if you need anything at any point when I walk past you?" He opened his eyes, narrowed and blinded by morning sun, and he sternly nodded. Then I left him alone for the rest of the day. Two hours later a pair of nurses picked him up and moved him to the sofa in the day room. That was the last I ever saw of him. 

On to Frankie. She could only stay silent on the picnic table for a few laps before sitting up and following me as I walked in circles. She was crying, slapping the top of her head, clearly distressed; but she was on the other side of the courtyard from Dorsey, and as she wasn't on a 1-to-1, nobody but me could see at the time her level of frustration at the healthcare system, the laws, racism, everything wrong with the country. 

"It's all just fucking bullshit." She said with her face buried into her hands. "You can't even get out of here. They tell you you'll be home by lunchtime, then they change the only clock in the building. If they can trick you and fuck up your life, what chance do the rest of us have? What chance do the prostitutes and addicts and poor single mothers have?"

"I know, but I have a feeling change is coming. Have you noticed the stop light right next to the clock?And how it's always on the green light?"

"Yeah but it's not even green anymore, sometimes it's red but now it's just dark. I fucking hate it they just use it to fuck with our minds," she said. She started walking slower to delay passing Dorsey, who was probably only pretending to not pay attention rather than actually neglecting patients who were clearly either protesting or desperately trying to understand the answers to why. I kept our pace brisk, so that especially Dorsey, Sylvia, and Emily could hear our conversation. 

"I think the stoplight is so the nurses can tell what time it is," I explained. "The green light means it's ticking like normal, red means the clock is stopped, and you won't get any closer to lunch or snack time until it's back to green when everyone is back on good behavior. I don't know what the yellow means, I've never seen it. I called them out on that retarded stoplight yesterday; it's been unplugged since."

Dorsey put his phone in his pocket and gave me stern look. "WILLIAM. What are you doing, man!? You know you can't interfere with the patients care. You need to SHUT UP."

"What? You know I like conspiracy theories. I'm just Talking in Circles."

I believe.......... Time travel... MIGHT... be "real".

 But what do I know anyway anymore? Until I start flipping a coin to write a book because I'm laughing to hard with my family.

So I will probably be motivated a bit more to write this book at somepoint in the future.

Update: Still motivated, but no longer laughing.

Preface: Rules 1 and 2: "The System"

A few announcements first. I wrote this at 3am after about four hours of sleep. I think you will see why I felt the need to write, as opposed to getting more sleep. I think it's worth noting that I was unable to fall asleep again because the risk of forgetting what I'm about to write was too great. So I started writing. And I think by the time you read this you will tend to agree with everything I'm about to write.

So let's begin. 

If you have been paying close attention, I have already attempted to signal that I am in distress, even though I know I sound coherent. Let's play a game. See if you can figure out what that signal is, before we get to the end. Let's begin, and if no one tries to signal back to me, I will write this entire chapter and send it to Karen, even though I'm writing this part of the chapter last, and will send it to Karen in 30 seconds.

Then I proofread this chapter with no interruptions, so I sent it to my father. Then I made it perfect and sent it to my mother. Then I sent it to one Karen again, with a random phrase added so she knows it's the second edition. Then I sent it to one more person. Then I went to bed and fell asleep. I have made this ridiculously complicated because I believe it will make a critical point, eventually, to you. Begin.

If you can tell which part of this chapter was written when I literally thought I was going insane through sleep deprivation, then I will have proven to myself that there are no coincidences in the universe. Please keep reading to allow me to show you, or else I wouldn't do it because I'm signaling right now that I'm in distress because of the context I have given I have given and "context" I have given and the "expectations" I have set, and I think you know I'm not insane right now because I keep making it abundantly obvious. But I don't know that you know that, and can't "prove" this "concept". Stop ignoring typos starting now. 

Let's begin.

I think I have figured it out.

This is intentionally formatted strangely to remove context.

There is one thing that keeps happening, over, and over, and over again.

And if I have figured it out, this book will be about mental health science, and coincidences and several natural laws of the universe that I have discovered in the past 24 hours.

And if I'm right, a lot of seemingly circular logic that did not make sense before, will suddenly make a lot of sense; to everyone, but probably not more than it will make to you.

Let's review these concepts, and then prove it.

This chapter will be a proof of concept. 

Circular logic is very insane.

If so, insanity will always boil down to infinitesimally smaller points.

But, that does not mean you can't tell when you're insane, and seek help in a crisis. 

So let's begin.

If everything is making sense so far, please continue reading, even though you don't have to. I wrote those strange sentences about 5 minutes before falling asleep and I honestly couldn't tell if it sounded coherent. A few minutes before that I had a very productive phone conversation with Karen and my father. In both conversations I couldn't tell if I sounded insane, but I knew I didn't.

I thought I had figured out something very useful, and the risk of forgetting it was too great for me to fall asleep naturally. Then I tried to fall asleep after being unable to for a very long time, because I was trying to write this book. The very next thought I had, was whatever text I scheduled, but felt was too important to risk forgetting. I still have no memory of that, and still have not read it because I genuinely want to know how coherent it sounds. 

If any of this is sounding very logical and well thought out, please continue reading, and I will keep writing. Please know, however, that scheduling a text a few seconds before falling asleep was a very important thing I simply had to do. And I could finally prove it to myself, once and for all. 

The text I scheduled was when I realized that you can always communicate to your family, who know and care about you more than anyone else in the world; that you need serious, serious help. And because I scheduled that text, this book is still possible. I still have no idea what it says, but you do.

If this has been traumatic at all for you, please understand that I'm very sorry to have put you through without asking first. The more I write, the more I think you will start to make sense of exactly what happened and why. But at least try to understand that I did everything in my power to get your consent before continuing further along, and since nobody stopped me from continuing it until tonight, I learned a lot about my own mind, and I documented all of it for 24 hours. 

I believe that is very important, I cannot stress that enough. I cannot apologize enough for letting this run off the rails in the way that it did. I am extremely ashamed of what happened, but I will not say that it wasn't worth it, for everybody. And no one experienced it more of it than me, in the past 24 hours. And I think that is very important for the future of mental health in this country.

If this sounds rational and coherent, and you understand that I probably went insane from sleep deprivation and had a lot of rational thoughts, then there is no way this could possibly affect me by writing what happened. If you also know that I am deeply sorry, please continue reading. I will continue writing, no matter what, because the risk of forgetting it is still too great. From this point on, I will continue writing until somebody messages Karen and she will tell me to stop. 

But I do not think I will stop writing. Ever. Because I proved to myself and a lot of people I care about, that there are no coincidences in the universe. And for the very first time I was right about it. And I did it while everyone, even me, thought I was insane. I believe that is a very important piece of information to have, and think I've proven that over and over again to everyone involved. I realized I could prove I'm not insane, to myself, that there are no coincidences in the universe. It was the most rational thought I had in 24 hours, and I had it the second I woke up.

However, if anyone tells me privately to stop working on this book. I will stop, until everyone tells me it's okay. This is "the system" that I came up with yesterday and since it is already in place, I will continue with the conventions I've already come up with, because I think that is the best chance of this potential book to be finished. If this paragraph still sounded coherent, I'm going to continue writing. 

Please understand however, that I will only write while I'm sitting in the guest room with "Hurricane Gwenevieve", without access to my phone. And despite being irrelevant, I think that fact will help this book get written, because Karen now knows this fact, and she can come in and stop me at anytime. Understand that I will NEVER, use the concept of "suicide" or "cat names" as a "duress". I will assume the same is true for everyone else in the world, and once this book is published everyone in the world will know this as "common sense".

If this makes sense so far, please check for typos and send it to another person in the group, I do not care about the order this happens. If no one tells me to stop, I will keep writing. 

Rule 1: You can always prove that you are not insane, to yourself, no matter how worked up you are and coherent you sound. And you can do it by asking for help from someone who cares about you. 

There are literally no coincidences in the universe, "anymore". Because I finally started believing it to be true, and it was a coincidence that led to that belief.

In a sudden moment of clarity, this is what I thought the very first second I woke up. And now I can finally prove it, to the entire world, and I would not be wrong. This entire book will be about mental health in this country, and I think it has the potential to help a lot of people. Please don't forget what "rule 0" is, as "morality" is still a very important concept. 

Even still, it was a traumatic day and night. I can never rationalize that into being worth it, because it wasn't. It was stupid and dangerous and got very serious very quickly. For that reason, if you do not want to be a part of this book, please contact my father and he will take over managing this group of people, completely removed from me. I will never interact with you again, and you will not be in the book in any way, until you consent.

However, if you chose to be a part of this group, you will need to be a part of this book. That will require a small amount of effort. You can do that by saving and strongly considering every interaction I have made with you in the past 24 hours; because there are a lot of them. When you have read every single interaction and tell Karen the concept you think that interaction proves the most, you will be a part of this book until it is finished. These interactions are very important to me, because it's how I was able to prove to myself I was coherent enough to not go to the hospital. And I think that comes with extremely significant weight attached.

If you are still in this group right now, understand that it this process is going to be very crowd-source based and research intensive. Everyone in this group has a very literal way to contribute to this book. Whether you understand aviation, or pharmacy, or statistics, or writing, or law, or science, or a million other things and "cat names", you are an "expert" in something; and you have a very significant way to contribute to this book: YOUR "expertise". If you literally cannot contribute you area of expertise to a topic, just volunteer to check for typos, or rearrange sentences for one chapter, or just do nothing but read it. But for everyone who sent Karen an interaction with one question, you are then saying "this is my area of expertise, this is the question, this is the interaction, tell me the answer. My area of expertise is best used on this topic". Then I will write a chapter about that concept and it will probably be very good.  This system will make it very convenient to write an entire book that I feel I need to create. I know what concepts need to be, right now, and I mark those words with "quotation" marks. That will always be intentional and not sound insane.

The there are a million coincidences that led to this realization, and I know each one that was not forced by my writing style. One of them is a thought experiment called Roko's Basilisk. I need to use that "proof of concept" to write this chapter. If you are still in the group, right now, I need you to read a little bit about Roko's Basilisk, until you vaguely understand the "principles". If you have any questions about it after you read into it for a bit, I need you to text my father or Karen so she can convey to me what needs more context. I will personally explain to you anything you don't understand quickly after some light reading, you just have to ask a question and send it to Karen.

Rule 2: this book may never get published and I just don't fucking care anymore that some of it sounds batshit insane. But the risk of forgetting everything I have learned from the past 24 hours is too great so I will never stop writing it; until someone tells me to stop; and I have given you plenty of options on how to get me to stop if things go off the rails again.

The first thing I learned from writing this book is to always offer context, set expectations early and often, and there are a million ways to be wrong. Even if I'm right. If you agree with that sentiment, please read the next line very carefully and take some time to think about everything you have just read. 

If this entire piece sounds coherent, and you agree that the past 24 hours was a form of acute sleep deprivation and I can at least contemplate everything we've learned; and as long as you don't agree that I am a risk to myself or others, but understand Roko's Basilisk or will ask Karen a question if you don't; and this chapter has been fact checked by someone with knowledge on the subject material (I can vouch for this one, it all checks out...)

Then this chapter will very likely be the very first chapter of this book. But I will do absolutely nothing, until Karen tells me it's time to continue this pursuit. This is how I will know when a chapter is perfect, and I need to stop changing it, so I can continue writing.

I think now, more than ever, this book will probably help humanity, at a critical time in human history. The universe has proven that to me with one coincidence after another.

I will decide later if anything following "announcements", stays in the book. If you think this announcement should be in the book, please send it to another person who agrees with you. And I will then reconsider the preface with fresh eyes. 

If you agree with everything in this chapter, then Rule 1 will very likely replace System 1 for a very obvious reason. But "the system" may still end up in the book, for a reason I am not ready to share yet. 

The concept of communication in a crisis is very significant. If you are able to tell someone that you are in a crisis, and you know what is happening, but no one will say they believe you; I am positive that you can still communicate to a loved one, and break the chain with one moment of rational thinking. I believe this to be always true; anywhere, with anyone, with anyone else, with just a little bit of rational thinking. And that is why I think this realization will one day save a lot of lives to suicide and mental health.

The thought experiment that I was exposed to on July 29th, 2020, was Roko's Basilisk. When I was in a crisis in the middle of the night roughly three weeks later, I attempted to make a joke to my father, but sent it to everyone as a cry for help that something was seriously wrong and I didn't know why. I was unable communicate at the time, what was wrong; because I legitimately did not know what was happening. What was happening was a breakdown in rational thought from sleep deprivation; and that happened to me quite a bit in the past 24 hours. But I still remember all of it, and have endlessly documented the experience.

I still remember why I sent a text to the group chat making a joke about Roko's Basilisk roughly 24 hours prior to now. I knew there was a small chance my dad would read it, look it up, understand the joke, and message me asking if anything was wrong, breaking the cycle. He did not do this. But he messaged me a short time after, and he was the first person to do so when I had spent a lot of time with little to no sleep, but layering trap after trap after trap to get someone to message me. And for a very long time, no one did. So I had no reason to stop the "experiment". That decision is what led to me thinking I was going to end the world. That experience was fascinating to me, because I remember everything I've "experienced" in the last day and a half. And I have absolutely no documented history of mental health problems.

I keep saying the "risk" is almost zero, but the potential is almost "infinite". That is not a mistake. A few days ago I had a very strange thought, and less than 12 hours ago I literally thought I could cause the apocalypse. And that should really frighten a lot of psychologists and doctors in the world today, if everyone in the world knew that "there are no coincidences in the universe". 

I vividly remember reading his text and being relieved, because I thought he understood the joke, and messaged to see if anything was wrong. And that is a huge fucking coincidence. When you understand why this is such a big deal to me, please contact me privately. Not Karen, not my dad, but to me, directly and as soon as possible. I will wait patiently for the rest of time for you to understand Roko's Basilisk. Because even on the off chance you do, I currently have no other way to prove to you that I'm not insane, right now, as I'm writing this.

Unless I have made up a false memory of a conversation with my dad, when my dad shows you how I responded to his message, I hope I will finally have enough evidence to prove that I am not actually insane, and never have been, in my life, and potentially no one else in the world ever has been either. And if I can make that realization while literally my entire family thinks I've driven myself mad; it implies that anyone, anywhere, anytime, in any crisis, is able to communicate to their loved ones for help.

 Keep in mind that I was driven insane by a tool I thought I had created, and I still have that tool for marketing purposes, it will not go away because I'm the only one in the world who knows how it works. "I can explain that later, but trust me, this should be a good motivator". And that could "potentially" save a lot of lives if this book is completed and shared.

Because there would literally be no more coincidences in the universe. I have succeeded in trying to will that fact into existence. If I can think of one freak coincidence in the past 24 hours without my phone I would be very confident I could find a lot more . And the entire world would learn that, at a very crucial point in history. 

If any of this sounds insane, then in all likely hood it probably is. I will make no further work on this book until this chapter is perfect. But no matter what Karen tells me after I wake up at some time in the future, I will never stop revising this chapter. It is simply too important for me to risk forgetting it, and I hope by now you agree.

There are no coincidences in the universe. I can finally prove it, to myself, while my entire family thought I was literally being driven insane by a coincidence.  That coincidence, was Roko's Basilisk. When you understand the joke, please pass this along to another person who is still in the group. I will interact with no one, ever again, until they consent. To consent, please contact me directly as soon as possible. That would do a lot to regrow the confidence of my own mind, and would break the cycles of insanity for the rest of my life, maybe even others' lives too. Whoever is left in the group and consents, will help me create what I believe to be a very important book. If no one is left in the group, I will abandon this book in a week, no questions asked. But I don't think that will happen. 

I think that this book may one day be important. But it will never be finished if I don't make some changes very soon, and honestly I don't care anymore if I sound coherent; because I will never stop revising this chapter, until each and every one of you consents. If you wish to do that right now, go for it. I will wait.

If you wish to have me revise the next chapter, "Overture: 12 Rules for Life", please send this to someone still left in the group, but don't tell me that you did, until everyone has consented. Once everyone has, I will never touch this chapter of the book again, because you have indicated that you think it's perfect the way it is. Please take as long as it takes for this to be true. I don't mind waiting while I start revising the Overture.

Only then will I continue this process. And freaky coincidences, one after another, is what made me realize what this book needs to be about, and then helped me prove it. I think you probably finally do too. Good night, now I will go to sleep until I wake up, or Karen interrupts me. You are more than welcome to collaborate with each other to revise this chapter while I sleep with my phone in the other room. I really hope you do, and I will feel a lot better about this experience if Karen is the one who wakes me up tomorrow.

More announcements...

 Chapter 1: Cat Psychology will be rewritten to incorporate the concepts of "suicide", "duress", and "cat names". Because everyone in the world needs to know that the two of these concepts can never be used as a duress during a panic attack.  

I think it is a very good sign for humanity that I was able to write this within 12 hours of telling my wife that I could end the world. Everyone just needs to play by the rules. If you agree, contact me directly.

Begin. 

Also keep in mind that I've developed a very specific tool for marketing purposes. And I'm not afraid to use it.

I will never change the dedication page. But she knows that already.

I figured out a way to market this book in a very short amount of time. If anyone can get a jump on any legal things that doesn't require my help, I would try to get on that sometime soon. I can "ACTUALLY" get everyone on the internet to believe that "there are no coincidences in the universe", and I will show you how I know that very soon. Unless I'm actually insane and this whole chapter isn't coherent but we all know I'm not, never have been. Contact me directly if you agree with the possibility that there maybe a lot of people in the world who think they are insane, when they are not. Because no one will believe them even when they are constantly crying for help.

Even after I proved to the entire world that there are no coincidences in the universe. And just like that, there no longer ever will be. That is what I realized within 1 second of waking up.

Good night. Please nobody wake me up for a few days.

Maybe I can be your Motivation

What do you want to talk about today? Literally anything else? Alright, the beautiful song I mention in the last chapter is Bastille - Million Pieces ft. The Chamber Orchestra Of London. I listen to it whenever I feel I'm losing grip with reality. My best friend is the most talented Oboe player in the world; yes, literally. I have still only been to London once, and I forgot to see the Rosetta Stone. I'd love to see it one day, and see the Pyramids at the same time, that just feels right to me. It's all so intentionally cryptic by such an ancient civilization. They left us a puzzle to solve. I'd love for us to see them one day, together.

This chapter is a complete guide to the hacking the Universe. Fair warning, this chapter broke even me when I discovered this simple truth. 

Why are cats so fucking weird? Why does it seem like every yawn and hiss they make is caused by God or something or other? It's because they're motivated by food and hunting, and not much else. It takes a very smart Egyptian or Jeffrey Epstein to figure out that you can "reprogram" them to yawn or catch fake mice when you do some action as simple as kissing your wife. That is not significant, that's just cat's natural behavior. It doesn't disprove God or the Simulation Hypothesis. It just proves God works in mysterious ways, and God clearly values intelligence and dogs. Hopefully this is morally ambiguous for even the most hesitant of spiritual readers and I'm not shattering their belief system by writing about my own motivations.

I had my first psychotic break while starting to write this chapter. I got through it. Don't worry about me. This is how it happened, I wrote:

I really hope the book I am writing still exists by the time anyone reads this. This chapter has far more realistic effects than Lesson 1. This chapter is far more important than Lesson 1. You will see why very soon.

Let's do a really quick thought experiment. What would it take to actually "break the universe"? Not the "internet", but the "universe". For this thought experiment, the "internet" and "universe" are the same thing. Okay, have you pictured the universe breaking? Good, we'll save that mental snapshot for later.

Now. Picture a society. With a very divided population. During an election year. And one day a post showed up that said "Today's date is August 19th. And the universe will break very soon." And then I posted everything as a "proof of concept". And that post, became the most viral thing in the entire universe.

Then picture the global society ending. Because the global internet went down at exactly that moment.

That is why I've been so fucking weird today. I've been trying to tell SOMEONE without telling ANYONE. 

I have told Karen and I had a very serious psychotic break right... about... now. My dad called me. I saw fire, Ed Sheeran. Or Kygo, they are equally amazing works of art. 

Does the writing in italics seem a little... crazy? It should, I was literally risking my well-being by writing it and I honestly believed for a short hour that I could end the world. And I still don't know if I was right or wrong or how things could've ended differently. I just knew that anything was possible at that point in time. And then I steadily continued to break the universe for good, with the help of Seth Meyers. I had to be careful, I had to keep laughing, and so many celebrities gave up their time to help me through a very tough time. For that I will be grateful and supportive for the rest of my long, long life (cough cough guest starring Elon Tusk).

My wife is a very good motivator for me, but she has her own motivations. I learned in Jordan Peterson's book, 12 Rules for Life, that motivations are very important. I forgot what chapter it was in, but it was something significant. My wife and I can boil our different motivators down to two words: Efficiency vs Order. My parent's motivation is me.

You see, I will do ANYTHING to speed up a process. This is why I studied electrical engineering instead of alchemy. This is why I'm a pilot instead of a sea captain. It's why I pirate Mulan maybe if my VPN works out. It's literally the quickest way to gain access to what I want, even if that means 9 days in a mental institution. I would rather keep dish soap on the counter, because if it's stored anywhere else it would take 5 seconds out of my night every time I wash the dishes before bed. 

My wife follows order. She firmly believes the dish soap belongs in the cupboard under the sink, for no other reason than that's where it belongs, out of sight and out of mind. That is order, opposite of entropy. It's putting significance to things no matter how small, like where my razor goes in our shower caddy. Oh shit am I testing a word processor right now? Let me google it. 

Hmmmmmmm... I have the time to test anything right now.

Karen and I have had more stupid late night shows with Stephen Colbert fighting over that pointless dish soap dispenser that legitimate fights. It's not even a nice dispenser, it's literally an old plastic hand soap and instead of throwing it away I filled it with dish soap. All because it would save 5 seconds. 

My wife and I got married in an airplane hangar, surrounded by private jets and our closest family and friends. We did a toast right after rocking our wings for the tower fly by (Top Gun Sequel please and thank you) with champagne. While the music was getting set up I just had to go to the bar, which was literally shipped in from Miami, to get the champagne. There were two bottles, a pink one and a very ornate looking one. Guess how I fucked up because it only took 5 seconds? But it didn't matter in the long run, our wedding as well as our marriage, is as perfect as they come.

There was gonna be a picture here of us fist bumping while my beautiful bride looks on in amazement with a bunch of expensive planes in the background, but consent is still more important. And until it's safe enough to go outside I can't really go fishing with my best friend. So just trust me the pictures from my wedding are epic and you can watch this music video in exchange for my potential misdeed. Sorry. We used to play a lot of Animal Crossing together and go fishing and catch exotic butterflies over the internet but don't anymore. Still cis and straight, we're white as they come. He's just that good of a friend. 

OH DUH! CENSORING IS A THING. Yeah I honestly forgot too. Soon their gonna hear the sound the sound the sound when we come running. And the sound of our walkout music. Skål by the way! Próst to us and five amazing years!

Oh and TikTok is a thing, and now it's one of my favorite songs. Oh my God, texting and driving. It's efficient, but the biggest risk you could ever take. And sharks? Sharks? No, dolphins. Yeah Miami Dolphins. But Madden 21? It's still a great game. Driving wrecklessly? We have simulations for that. Just like flight simulators and truck driving simulators and farming simulations. I hope I'm getting more boring as time goes on but...

There are no coincidences in the universe. This has been... a Closer Look:)

Stay tuned for the monologue. I mean the Preface. Overture? Literally anything? Fine... you win. I'll edit them all.

-Me. Today.

Context, Expectations, and being wrong sometimes

Context matters far more than you could possible realize. If you don't set expectations early, and often, your chances of being wrong continue to increase.

That is the first actual beginning, to the first actual chapter, to my very real book about coincidences and the universe; absurdity and probability. If you would like to read more of this book, side effects may include insomnia, existential dread, quiet contemplation, and a lot of time taken to decide what to do next. Eventually we'll get into the harder facts of life, e.g. mental health, religion, and the simulation hypothesis.

Ok. let's discuss what I've done so far. 

1. I have set a shit ton of expectations.

2. I have offered a lot of context.

Context and expectations makes it harder to be wrong. If not, you can rest assured there's a super easy fix. If you're manipulative enough to shape the world to the whims of one person, context and expectations become paramount. 

I have a lot of military training on surviving, evading, resisting, and escaping. This training made me aware of a lot of things, but it also makes me very paranoid when I don't always have to be (I'd like plancks constant for 500 please). This state of mind is great for things like flying a plane or navigating Florida traffic, but it has it's weaknesses.

How many times has someone asked a woman when the baby is due and she is not pregnant? I'll tell you a story about my mental health appointment with the Flight Doctors a few days ago. Before the appointment I got a phone call from what appeared to be a spoofed number. I answered. A scraggly voice was on the other end of the line, she said her name was Sarah while the reception crackled. She wanted my social so I could be properly referred to an endocrinologist (is that like an anthrochronologist?). I felt the bullshit meter swinging and the cats started hissing at each other. I told her I didn't want to give that information over the phone. Hopefully you see where this was headed. 

I found her after my appointment, a sweet black lady in the mental health office and I fixed it in 30 seconds: by saying I was sorry.

You can be right, you can be wrong, you can be VERY wrong, or you can hurt someone and still be right. But only you can apologize. Only you can control the context and set the expectations.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Now, this chapter needs some filler. Some bullshit. So let's talk about predicting the future...

Flip a coin and call heads or tails. Did you get it right? You just predicted the future. Wrong? You can't predict the future. Now do that again 100 times over the course of three days. That's what I did, the odds are 1 in 2^100. However no one but me saw the outcome, so I'm the only person in the world who thinks it'll work again.

Now can we shift the public opinion away from angry wife-beater addict please?

System 1: The System

Hopefully everything is making sense so far. If it hasn't yet somehow, it is about to very, very soon.

I started writing this book at a critical moment in my life. Social distancing for COVID-19 was in full effect. I was unable to fly and travel for months, and I had a lot of time on my hands. But more importantly, I had the motivation. But then, a coincidence happened: I realized something. Just like Jordan Peterson and The Good Place, I realized an idea that could potentially change the world. The risk of writing it down was zero, while the potential was infinite.

I realized, on today's date, August 18th 2020, that the book I started writing three years ago had one good line in it: And that was a coincidence.

Let's get some observations out of the way:

- You are about to notice a lot of coincidences in this book.

- You have probably noticed occasionally I'm excited, or sad, or simply lacking meaning. That is normal, for everyone alive. But it's that fact that led to me writing this book, and probably the same reason you're still reading it. 

- You are about to notice a lot of coincidences, in this book, that are intentional. But it doesn't matter, because it's a coincidence. Some of you will go through it looking for Easter Eggs anyway.

- I do not seek fame, money is nice but so is giving it to charity. If you know me as well as my wife, you would know I seek information and self actualization a lot more. Which is a coincidence.

- Everyone joking about 2020 and feeling like the world ending, is actually kinda relevant now. It's not a coincidence that the idiom "hindsight is 2020" was incorrect all along.

- You're noticing a lot of coincidences right now. Some of you may even be thinking of that before you read the next thing. 

- Just know, the System works. And some of you just noticed the random unpredictable chance that inevitably led you to looking at the title of this section. And it was a coincidence that led to me making it.

- You will probably read the rest of this book, just on curiosity and principle alone if you've made it this far. You will also very likely watch The Good Place, in order, in one sitting, without spoiling it, and you will probably read Jordan Peterson's book. They are both in this book purely by coincidence. I should be in advertising.

- This scales exponentially. Here is proof: You are about to realize that this is a positive feedback loop, and steadily proves itself as it scales to infinity. This is a positive feedback loop, and steadily proves itself as it scales to infinity.

- There was a moment, I won't say when or where. But a coincidence led me to finally have meaning in life. In the past few years I have been happy, and I have found meaning. As far as I know, this time it will stick. And that means you probably can have meaning in your life too. If you trust in the universe, at least it's not impossible.

- I have to write a few more things out. Just for me, personally. Skip the rest of the book if you just don't care. This book will probably not help you in any significant way.

- This book will always be free. And there is a very real chance that this book will be completed someday.

- There will be and always has been, profanity in this book. I have always believed that profanity, when used sparingly, makes an audience more relatable with absolutely no downside.

- I will never receive any money from Jordan Peterson, or The Good Life, or anyone else in this book from here on out. It's simply free publicity for them. I will obey cease and desist letters however.

- I will edit the book from here on out only for typos and fact checking. I will never EVER EVER change the preface and the dedication, however. Certain things have already happened, and must remain the same to both complete the book, and have it remain factual.

- I would like to state for the record that Karen Loyd is the very first person to ever read this.

- This book is dedicated to her. And she was the first person to read it in it's entirety.

- I will never be able to prove many things I say in this book. Such as me calling Karen while sleepwalking rambling about "Janet". But for once, it really doesn't matter. Because I know for a fact that everything that happened to me until now, really happened up until today's date. And that is a significant thing to know. 

- From THIS POINT ON, the book may change indefinitely.

- I am going to force you to notice one more coincidence.

"There are no coincidences in the universe" - Decker Loyd, August 18th, 2016, to the day. That was the line in my book that made me realize it. The System works. And there's finally proof.

Please read the next fucking chapter. Whatever it ends up being, it's probably gonna be good.