Russell Twyce

Which Do You REALLY Want: Eternal Life or Eternal Youth?

The terms eternal life and eternal youth seem to mean the same but they are not.  Eternal life means being deathless and ironically, that does occur on death.  So the only way to gain eternal life is to die, which is counterproductive if you’re just looking for longevity.  Yes, that statement sounded humorous, but I meant it quite literally and truthfully.

Eternal youth, on the other hand, is attainable in life.  [Content protected for Chevron members only]

“I would NOT choose death and eternal life by that way: I WANT eternal youth!”

Did that statement mirror your reaction to the above paragraph?  I would suggest that you don’t know yourself as well as you might think that you do.  Look at life around you: people hate living.  [Content protected for Chevron members only]

Your death wish ages and ultimately kills you.  Yes, animals age and die too but other creatures don’t have [Content protected for Chevron members only]

“I don’t have a death wish! And I would like eternal life!”

(Almost) everyone shares the death wish and you’re lying to yourself about not having it – and you KNOW it.  Have you ever entertained a suicide notion?  Even a passing one?  Do you smoke?  Do you gamble or engage in other self-destructive activities like over-eating?  [Content protected for Chevron members only]

A Government Pension at Twenty Five

Short Fiction by Russell Twyce

“According to this file,” a government bureaucrat set a reverent palm flat on the open folder, “you’ve been collecting old-age security checks for the past five years.  Yet you are obviously a man in your early 20’s.”

“Chronologically,” the young man dug out his wallet, “and by my government issued identification cards, I have just passed my 70th birthday.”  He offered up the proof.

Then this has to be either forged or in error.”  The government agent stated after he had intensely scrutinized the document.  “What year were you born in?”

“I was born in 1940 and I aged normally until 1985, when I discovered the secret of eternal youth.  From then to now, I’ve been growing younger, instead of older.”

“My year of birth was 1955.”  The civil servant announced in a mocking tone.  With grey hair and many facial wrinkles, his physical appearance exactly matched his 55 years of age. “And you are NOT fifteen years older than I am.  So let’s get to the real truth of this situation.”

“The honest truth is exactly as I’ve said.  You can look into my tax records or you can have the police fingerprint me and compare the result against any government files you can drag up.  I was born in 1940 and I am currently seventy years of age.”

“You didn’t invent the secret of immortality.”  The pension official scoffed.  “I should think that such a discovery, if proven, would’ve made an international news splash.  I don’t recall hearing anything about it in 1985 or since.”

“I didn’t seek any publicity and I didn’t care if anyone verified my results or not.”
“Right.”  The disbelieving government man said in a sarcastic voice.  “So you actually are seventy and you fully expect me NOT to cancel your old age security benefits?”

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“Correct.”

“And I suppose your cute wife over there,” with a nod he indicated a young woman in the waiting area, “is fast approaching sixty-five?”

“My girlfriend there is twenty-two.  My wife passed away awhile before I uncovered the secret of Nicholas Flamel’s philosopher stone.”

“Does she know that you’re seventy?”

“Absolutely.”  The young looking old man smiled.  “She appreciates my maturity and experience, while still being able to enjoy the physicality and vitality of my second twenties.”

“Philosopher’s Stone and Nicholas Flamel?”  The scoffing of a minute ago had been replaced with a pang of envy: whether the old-age pension claimant was 25 or 70, that girl was certainly a knockout.  “You’ve obviously been to a Harry Potter movie.”

“JK Rowling didn’t invent either the name of Nicholas Flamel or the philosopher’s stone idea.  Nicholas was an alchemist born in 1330 and he returned to his youth after learning of the philosopher’s stone from an ancient manuscript.”

“And I suppose you know this for a fact.”

Definitely.  Nicholas Flamel is a friend of mine.  He contacted me after he deduced that someone else had achieved his eternal youth secret.  Nick is a cool old guy, who looks like he is twenty.  He thought it was hilarious that he was immortalized, off camera, in the movies.  But the author has no clue that Flamel really is still alive.”

“I suppose he collects an old-age pension too?”  The bureaucrat jotted down the name: he would look it up in his files later.

“No.  Nicholas is an alchemist.  Whenever he needs money, he turns lead into gold.”

“Since you have his eternal youth secret, why doesn’t he give you the transmutation tips too?  Then you wouldn’t need to keep your pension.”

“Nicholas has his thing and I have mine.  When he was born, there wasn’t a public pension plan in place, so he needs to make gold.  I paid years worth of exorbitant taxes to earn my retirement income, so I’ll use it for my ‘golden years’ and I’ll keep collecting it for a VERY long time.”

“Unless I stamp your file as a fraud and cancel it.”

Click Here to Build an Enduring Income

“On what grounds?”  The young man asked in a resolute voice.  “The proof of my age and even the ‘before’ and ‘after’ pictures are iron-clad in your department of motor vehicles.  The stored license photos will show me growing older until 1985 and then progressively younger until my most recent one.”

“On grounds that I work for the Federal Government and can therefore do whatever I want to you and your case!”

“With impunity.”  The young man added through pursed lips.  He bit his tongue from saying what was really on his mind.  ‘And that mentality is precisely why I haven’t shared the gift of eternal youth with everyone.’  “But that political superiority will not live on forever.”

“Your life won’t be much longer than mine.”  The agent misconstrued the comment as personal instead of global.  “How long do you have before a return to infancy?”

“Your facts all seem to come from fiction.”  It was now the younger man’s turn for the mocking tone.  “I’m not living a backwards life, as the ‘Curious Case of Benjamin Button’.  I’ve rejuvenated as far as I want to, so I’ll stop using my philosopher stone.  I’ll age normally until I choose to start growing younger again.”

“And then what?”

“I’ll make another philosopher stone.”

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Do you want to Regain Youth & Return to Early Summer?

YES! Then Read On…

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Metaphysical Youth

You may have read Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, or perhaps you’ve seen the movie.  But did you know that neither Nicholas Flamel nor the philosopher stone were products of JK Rowling’s imagination?  Nicholas Flamel was real and purportedly, so was his gaining eternal youth though use of philosopher stone.  Did Nicholas Flamel gain eternal youth and eternal life by using the metaphysical Philosopher’s Stone?

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Are you interested in reading the Akashic Records?

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PS.  I’ll keep this blog posted on the results I experience with my philosopher stone experimentation.  (I had another post on this topic but deleted it because my tone wasn’t right.)

Short Fiction – set in the near future by Russell Twyce

A teacher stands before her class of Junior High School students.  The fashions and hairstyles have changed much over the last ninety years, but the arrangement of desks and the faces flushed with life of the children remains as it is today.  The history teacher is holding a paper for a pop quiz.

“Quiet now.”  She holds up a flat hand to call for silence and attention.  “Now who can tell me what the three main era’s of the previous 2000 years were called?”  She chose one from amid the small wheat field of raised hands.  “Jilvian?”

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“The first was the dark ages,” a girl answered, “of which not very much was recorded with full accuracy.”

“Correct.  And who will tell us what period came next? Rodagar?”

“Yes mam.”  A blond boy stood up to answer.  “Then came the age of feudalism and serfdom when people were owned by the land and where the land was owned by the nobles.”

“Very good.”  The teacher smiled.  “What was the third?  Jacqeleze?”

“Industrial Age.”  A timid girl answered quickly.  Then she saw the imploring look on her teacher’s face and expanded on her answer.  “It is also known as the second age of feudalism and serfdom.”

“Thank you.”  The teache said.  “Now can someone tell me the difference between the first and second ages of serfdom?  Barklane?”

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“As we covered in the lesson, populations under the two Nazi regimes were repressed mostly by the harsh police action, economic blackmail and a mass media that pumped out propaganda.  Adstell, will you tell us how the two Nazi regimes differed?”

“The German Nazi government was anti-Semitic and the American Nazi government was pro-Semitic.  And while the German Nazis called themselves Nazi, the American Nazi government used the names Democrat and Republican.”

“Fazette, can you elaborate on why the American Nazi government was not named for what it was?”

“The Americans fought the German Nazis during World War Two and so a stigma was attached to the term.  However, the American Nazis were just as racially intolerant of all non-Americans as the German Nazis were.  The American Nazis were also as violently expansionist.  They felt that their strong economic and technical abilities entitled them to crush ‘inferior’ nations, cultures and people.”

“Well done.”  The teacher beamed.  It seemed like her whole class of students were likely to score well on the formal test.  “So for a final question in this quiz, who will describe what finally ended the Nazism and serfdom to give us the wonderful civilization we enjoy today?  I’ll point and you can each offer an answer.”

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No Possible Validation Short Story by Russell Twyce

“This is something we have to do.”  The police chief spoke into a microphone at a press conference.  “We’re required to maintain order and keep the peace.”  Whether he had anything else to say suddenly became moot as a windowpane shattered from being hit with a bullet.  The slug’s trajectory was essentially unaffected and it struck the police chief in the left temple.  He was dead before he and the podium he was gripping collapsed off the stage.

Another hole was punctuated in the window and a scream followed the shot by an instant: the police officer that had employed the taser weapon on the ten-year-old girl dropped off his chair with a shattered spine.  And bedlam ensued as people dived for cover, in a panic.   But no further shots were fired.

“Over the span of less than five seconds,” a newscaster said in a disgusted voice, “one fine police chief was dead and an officer was consigned to a wheelchair.  They were engaged in doing a brave and often thankless job.  It was a cowardly sniper—”.  He didn’t finish his sentence because a 22-caliber bullet fired from studio rafters broke his teeth and devastated his jaw’s right hinge.

“What a day!”  Jen the station’s young weather-girl commented to herself as she crossed the darkened parking lot.  She might’ve felt a bit nervous after a deadly day but there were some police vehicles idling in the lot, as the forensic team was still busy inside the studio.

“Poor Bob.”  She muttered about the newscaster that would be drinking soup through a wired shut mouth.  But she didn’t feel much sentiment: the guy was a conceited jerk and she wouldn’t miss him.

Jen keyed her car’s door lock and slipped into the driver’s seat.  And from behind, a pungent cloth doused in chloroform was clamped over her face.

“You will not be harmed in any way.”  A male voice said in a calm tone.

Jen had just awakened to find that she was bound and blindfolded.  The restraints did not feel like ropes.  Instead she had been tied with torn strips of a soft sheet.  The weather girl could tell that she was still clothed, so the prospect of an immanent rape didn’t seem likely.

“Who are you?”  Jen mumbled over a tongue that felt dry and cottony from the knockout drug he had employed on her.

“I’m the cowardly sniper.”  He spoke softly and in an ironic voice, while he busied himself with her bonds.  The mysterious gunman freed her hands and then took off the girl’s blindfold.  “I’ve brought you here so that you could interview me.”

“I’m not in the news department.”  Jen protested.  She saw that she was seated at a table, on which there was a steno-pad, pencils and a thankfully, a pitcher of water.  She quickly poured a tumbler full.

“And neither are the administrative staff that would’ve first received a statement sent by post.”  The kidnapper was wearing a mask.  It was not a Halloween type or an improvised thug’s mask.  Rather, he was elegantly attired for a masquerade ball.  “Yet I suspect you took enough journalism courses to conduct a proper interview.”

“Why did you choose me?”

“Because as the weather girl,” he chuckled as he spoke, “you’re the only on-air person at that station that has not lied to me—or the other viewers.  You report the weather as you know it, or as you believe it.  Sometimes you’re wrong, but you don’t deliberately deceive, as all other reporters and anchor persons do.”

“Why did you do it?”  Jen bluntly shot out the first question that came to mind.

“I did what many people wish they could do.”  The masked sniper turned the chair opposite the interviewer and sat with his arms folded on the chair’s back.  “An event like the police using a taser on a child offends the moral fiber of most people.  It shows that the police are NOT protecting us.  They are just brutal thugs tasked with keeping ordinary folk under the corrupt thumb of a criminal government.  The cop that actually used the weapon on the ten-year old girl doesn’t deserve to be walking around armed, and now he will be in a wheelchair.”

“The police chief didn’t do it.”

“He merited much worse for defending the action.  There is no possible validation for a policeman’s using a high-voltage stun gun against a child.  The police chief’s defense of an out-of-control officer’s heinous action was in fact, a commendation for the cop’s action.  He was stating that in traumatizing with brute force, anyone that had the gumption to refuse a policeman’s command – even and especially a child’s, that the officer was performing his real function is subduing any future thoughts of resistance to the authority – with grossly overly heavy-hands.”

“So you dealt him death.”  Jen inquired as she scribbled notes on her pad.  “That seems to be as heavy-handed as the officer’s assault on the girl.”

“I interpreted the chief’s words as a statement of eagerness to the political higher ups.  He was saying that he was ruthless enough to step into a role in the criminal political organization.  So I terminated his political career, instead of just giving him a painful wound for his part in the atrocity.”

“You speak of this ‘criminal government’ but this is a democracy: politicians are elected into office by vote.”

“No they’re not.  A party determines who will be on a ballot.  When is the last time you felt you actually had a choice between anything but ‘bad’ or ‘worse’.  I expect your true answer would be ‘never’, but the fear of police brutality and/or social ostracizing is ingrained as deeply in your psyche, as it is in everyone else’s.”

“And you visualize yourself as the only one that will point at the Emperors clothes?”

“Precisely.”  The masked sniper stood.  “And I’m well armed and equipped for that.”

“So the police in this area should be warned.”

“Not just in this jurisdiction.  I happened to be handy to this event, but I’m willing and able to travel to wherever out-of-control police need to be reprimanded.”

“Who are you?”  The girl paused in her writing to look appraisingly at him.  The seemingly young man appeared to be in exceptional physical shape.

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The End

The above short story is fiction but it is obviously inspired by the true event that recently happened in the American Ozarks, where a police officer used a taser weapon on a ten-year old girl because she was being ‘unruly’ and refusing to take a shower.  This type of police brutality initially offends us, but then people complacently forget about it.  Yet the police are totally out-of-control and incidents like taser use on a child, or tasering to death an unarmed man in Vancouver Canada, are just the highly visible tip of a huge iceberg of senseless police brutality in propping up criminal governments.

We people need to take a clear look at how our society is ordered, or these type of officially condoned crimes against humanity will get worse and more frequent, as we descend further into a police state.  Crime and terrorism is growing because the law enables it to flourish, while the police concentrate only on oppressing people and raising government revenue with tickets.  By only turning a blind eye, you are committing a crime against the future of humanity.

Is your inhospitable home on Io?

“I wish I had more green to liven up my life.”  Lester Cash yawned and looked out his small habitat’s portal at the bleak tan landscape of Io.  He had removed himself to the most remote place he could find to get a little peace from those wanted to chew pieces from him. So here he was on one of Jupiter’s moons.

When a person is deeply in debt, they may feel that they are living on Io.  Io is one of Jupiter’s four largest moons and living there might even be better than living in the sate of ‘I-owe’ anywhere on Earth.

A person in severe debt might wish for the complete isolation of Io because the bill collector’s calls would suffer a time delay from the vast distance away.

You may live on iO because, in computer terms, your i (income) is smaller than your O (output).  But there are better solutions than moving so far away.

You can blast off from Io: you just need to find money to burn on the ticket. And as with any travel tickets, you have the choice between class.

Economy Class involves reducing your outgo until it is less than your income.

First Class involves increasing your income until it is greater than your outgo. It is just that simple. And there are no other choices, unless it is to run away and hide on Io.

“But from today forward,” the bankrupt recluse on Io said, “I’ll be a pirate! I’ll sail the stellar commerce lanes reaping booty – legally. And I’ll finally be off of Io!”

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WHY?

“Because the murderer is a whack job!”

Yes, he is a whack job but that doesn’t answer why.  Every person, crazy or sane, has a reason for their actions.  There are two distinct reasons ‘why’ but they are obviously connected.  [Content protected for Chevron members only]  The more heinous his crime, the more brightly his blood graffiti message will shine up in the media – “the rule-of-law SUCKS and that is REALLY why I did it!”

“The rule-of-law SUCKS and that is REALLY why he did it?”

Yes.  Odd as it sounds, the rule-of-law is why he killed [Content protected for Chevron members only]  The rule-of-law was the co-murderer!

The IS another way!

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Do you remember Reaganomics?

Or I suppose for the younger audience, I should say, ‘do you remember learning about Reaganomics?’  An unusual theory was presented and then proved – ‘Government revenue could be INCREASED, by LOWERING the tax’.  It seemed strange to many people but it worked.  Now think about the guy who first thought of the idea.  Imagine how he must have had to bash his head against many walls before a few saw what he was talking about.  That is where I am now.

I know how to end terrorism, how to eliminate the spectacular and seemingly pointless mass killings like Columbine, Virginia Tech & Fort Hood, and simultaneously reduce the actual crime rate across the whole spectrum of everyday robberies, rapes, & murders.   And the solution is both simple and painless!  [Content protected for Chevron members only]  This might sound Utopian, but like Reaganomics was, it is just logical.

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Like Reaganomics, when this revolutionary theory of public justice takes root and is really looked at and understood, it will prove out to be the right solution for the times.

This post is in reply to ‘Catch Me if you Can‘ – Item 1.  “…Rape a 13 Year Old Girl”.

First off, do you completely understand what I think is the crux problem with law?   [Content protected for Chevron members only]

“Was the only thing stopping you the fact that you didn’t want to go to jail?”

The primary ‘deterrent’ to why people refrain from crime is NOT the threatened punishment. [Content protected for Chevron members only]

How does the criminal side-step his/her conscience to commit the crime?

Psychologists have said that psychopaths / sociopaths have no consciences, but that is absolute bullshit, everyone has a conscience.  [Content protected for Chevron members only]

Consider the Roman Polanski case in particular now.

Polanski ‘broke a law’ in the US and then escaped to a non-extradition country – where he conceivably posed a threat to young French girls – but the French Justice system could not act because the law was not broken there.[Content protected for Chevron members only]

I say this following line with utter conviction. 

“The END of terrorism, the END of random victim crimes (like Fort Hood, Virginia Tech and MANY others), and the global reduction in the incidents of crimes against people, WILL be found in a very simple reevaluation of how we view social justice.”