Phil Fable – Phil’s Training in Basic Human Skills

“I can’t afford your base rate,” said the mother.

“No problem, she can pay me back when she is older if she wants to with money or labor.”

He thought about all the times people promised to pay him with deep sincerity and then never did.

“That’s okay,” he thought. “At least, they THINK they will pay me back for what they are to receive.”

“What does the course include?” asked the mother, “I heard so much about it from my sister and the wonders it has worked on Susan.”

“Susan maintains a good practice. She has made it her own and has adapted it to suit the life she needs. She’s a little more ambitious. She spends 80 minutes a day training by herself. And by the way, since this is free, I permit NO late assignments. If she fails to complete her assigned work, the work either terminates at no cost to you, or you pay back fees and continue to pay for every hour in the future. For people I train for free, I am not very accommodating.”

His eyes showed he meant it. He was, of course, lying. He was generous when life emergencies happened to his students. He continued.

“Anyway, part one is Memory Training. In it, she uses a piece from an ancient Greek text called the ‘Rhetorica Ad Herennium.’ When she masters the teachings in this text, then she will have a virtual hard drive to hold anything she chooses to maintain. This is the same techniques that the Greek Scholars used to memorize speeches and texts and other useful information. It’s how people use to be able to hear a speech once and maintain it’s content for the rest of ones life if one chose. She will memorize blocks of information and she gets to choose works of her preference for this effort.”

“That sounds incredible. Almost unbelievable,” said the mother.

“It isn’t easy and it’s a practice. One must maintain the structures daily or the memories will fade away. So, in essence, it is a sensual imagination practice. But starting at her age, she can become a master of it and be able to house an entire library if she chooses.”

He scratched an itch his head and continued.

“Part Two is about Critical Thinking. After she has mastered memory training, her next phase is to study critical thinking skills as well as the social engineering techniques used by religious charlatans and people of a mind to control her and shape her emotional attachments. She will memorize these and be taught to think for herself in the middle of manipulative situations so she can point out these techniques in real time for herself and for others less trained than her.”

“Part Three is Mathmagics. In this training, she has the chance to become a master of mental calculations and the memorization of numbers. She will be able to process numbers in her head like ancient accountants who had no adding machines or paper. She will also learn the Abacus as well as mental shortcuts to number crunching. I’ve found that people tend to either use a mental abacus OR math hacks but not both. Some, however do use both at once. The course also builds on the earlier memory training by teaching her how to memorize numbers using a system called ‘The Pao System’ which allows people to memorize entire pages of digits rapidly.”

“Part Four is Communication Training. After she knows how to remember, think and calculate, she learns to read micro-emotions and communicate in a non-violent way with others. This is about learning good conversation techniques and dialogue  models as well as social graces and moving gracefully between power and submission with minimal ego damage to herself or others.”

“Part Five is Mindfulness Training. In this last segment she learns three meditation techniques: Zazen, Tonglen, and Meditative Exercise Movement. Zazen practice is learning to just sit, that is all and is used by the Soto Zen School. Tonglen is about breathing in the suffering of life and breathing out a mighty wish of liberation. It is used in Tibetan mediation practice. In this practice you start with yourself and then work up to your spouse and family, humanity and all sentient beings, This technique has been shown to produce the largest gamma waves ever measured in a human brain. Gamma waves are science’s best measurement of happiness and well being. You may want to google “Matthieu Ricard, the world’s happiest human” to verify these claims and then look at critical articles of them.”

“Finally, MEM (Meditative Exercise Movement) is about learning to be mindful in how you do things. This practice also includes physical exercise so that the mind and body are both engaged and aligns with Tai Chi in its methodology.”

He paused and then calmly stated.

“My materials are open to your inspection. I offer no religious instruction at all. The meditation techniques came from religious traditions, but all religious elements are excised out of them. The goal is to improve people’s brains to think well and manage one’s emotions and communications. Most of our students tend to be those who are not deeply aligned with any religious faction, but are more science based.” 

He breathed deeply and concluded. 

“After completing the work, if she passes our exams we give out the title ‘Competent Human.’ I wish I could say, that the title is TRUE but alas, it is just a title and a title isn’t a life. And human life is HARD. Sometimes it breaks people. This is an effort to minimize that breakage, but it too fails to deliver on some of its aims in many cases.”

“Anyway, after she has mastered all of these, it takes about an hour a day of practice to maintain all of them at peak ability. But if she does this, she will be centered, fit and able to think like the rest of our world CANNOT. And if she’s smart…”

He swallowed and smiled with a closed mouth.

“She’ll keep her abilities quiet and enjoy their benefits and help our world.” 


Phil Fable – Another Day, Another Speech, Another Death Yada-Yada-Yada

It was just another routine death for our hero Phil. He was sitting on a horse with his hand behind his back and a noose around his neck as a mob of black hooded cultists were about to hang him for teaching women how to use the “Rhetorica Ad Herennium.” What angered them the most was that he showed them how to make such an endeavor a rich spiritual practice by virtue of creating a world in ones own imagination. It was a dark night, and the shadow of a hill a mile away was cresting a full mooon.

The only one who had no hood was Phil.

The hoods started babbling their 109 year cult babble. It was a fair display of batshit and circumstance. After the leader said his say, and the hoods shook their torches, it got down to the point of the evening – a straight forward hanging.

“I ask for last words,” said Phil.

A hood nodded.

“Look!” said a hood pointing to the hill.

As Phil looked up at the hill, the moon was now full and about 10 feet above the hill’s crest. The moon sat perfectly aligned and nested in the center of a flaming circle!

The flaming circle was mounted on a pole. Holding the pole was a  hooded figure. The figure adjusted the control and a flaming line bisected the circle and the moon it cradled into a top half and bottom half.”

“Our Symbol!” cried one of the hoods. “It’s a brother!”

But thirty seconds later, ANOTHER line cut the circle and moon into quarters making a plus sign. Then the fiery circle rotated until the plus sign became an X – the symbol Teth. The moon and the symbol were obviously aligned so that from the position of the hanging tree, it shone forth as one glowing visage.

The figure unhooded herself revealing a red headed woman.

Phil’s closed smile went ear to ear as he whispered.

“Cassandra! You truth-telling liar…”

The hoods stopped looking at Phil.

Phil’s face beamed.

All the hoods were within 20 feet of Phil. So he spoke in a normal voice as he looked up at the burning X within a circle. 

“I teach you the SUPERWOMAN! Man is something that is to be surpassed. What have YOU done to surpass man?”

He looked at every hood individually.

“All beings hitherto have created something beyond themselves, and YE WANT TO BE THE EBB OF THAT GREAT TIDE and would rather go BACK to the beast than surpass man!”

He stared at them.

“HA!” he said.

“Behold, the SUPERWOMAN in a world with no reliable wrist watch!”

They all looked at the symbol and the woman standing on top of the hill, her hair flaming in the light of  the fire and moon and her right hand held out open to them.

Phil kicked the horse violently to start the swinging himself. He watched Cassandra’s symbol as much as he could amid the swinging, turning and blacking.

Upon seeing Phil hanging, furious hoods dispatched to the top of the hill. Fifteen minutes later, they found Cassandra’s burning X, but no Cassandra.

The pole with the circle and X wasn’t at all like the crude device they used when they placed their burning Thetas in front of their enemies residences. No, it was an ingenious piece of mechanical engineering. The metal parts were fabricated by hand. The inlaid designs of the pole were also hand carved. It was like it was designed for them to behold the quality of the maker.

“How did she know we were going to do this, and how did she know how to align the device with the moon PERFECTLY?,” said one of the hoods.

They further examined the pole and saw how a gear and chain rotated the plus sign into an X. The more geek minded were impressed with the way that she was able to make both the first second lines of negation appear to create first, the symbol “Theta” and then turn it into “Teth.”

“How did she know HOW to pull this OFF?” repeated the same man. It was becoming his mantra.

At the base of the device lay a thin book.

“The Rhetorica ad Herinnium.”

On the front of the book was a phrase written in red ink.

“Memorized by Cassandra.”

The man who had been so vocal, picked up the book and pocketed it.

“I will burn THIS myself!” he said to the others.

They all looked down expecting to see Phil hanging. Instead, they saw him cut down by a hooded figure.


“Wake up buddy! Wake up Buddy! Wake up Buddy!”

Phil slowly woke to see himself. The noose was cut and to his side.

“Here,” said Phil to Phil, “Here is the A-11,”

“Why are you giving ME this?”

“The Feeler is exhausted, so I guess I’M the new feeler. No more time in the field for this Phil. The old Feeler is going to go coach Little League on earth with the deep wish that he could have a wiped memory. But that’s the feeler’s burden. Use the watch to get you and Cassie out of here. I programmed it to teleport me in about a minute. Cassie is up a tree right now and they are beginning to start looking up.”

Phil took the A-11 wrist watch, typed in a command in morse code on it watch face, and he and Cassey were teleported safely a mere mile away.


As some of the hoods raced to their horses to recapture Phil, one fell to the ground clutching his heart.

Dropping the matter at hand, some of his friends helped him the best they could. They took him home. Tended to him.

But by morning, he was gone.

Cassandra Fable – Free Will Type 4

One hour after the Titanic just got struck by an iceberg. A brother and sister hugged themselves as they watched the lifeboats go into the water without them.

A voice came from behind.

“Come on. I can get you safe.”

The looked up and saw a redheaded woman with a fiery look in her eye.

“I know how to package you so you won’t freeze, but we HAVE to hurry.”

They quickly ran to an open cabin. Inside was an odd assortment of clothes, several buckets of water and a five gallon can of mechanics grease.

“Strip down to your underwear and grease yourself up. That way the water cannot touch your skin.”

They looked at each other.

“NOW!” she yelled. “If you want to find your mom, she’s probably on a lifeboat. You ARE rich.”

They did as instructed.

First, Cassandra greased them up with mechanics grease. Then she dipped the oversized pants and shirt in water and then put a layer of clothes on both of them. Then she greased that layer up. Quickly, she dipped in two more sets of clothes in the water and layered those on top. Then she greased those. Then she put on wet, oversized long underwear and greased it. Finally she did the same with several layers of socks. Finally, out of water, she bundled them in two coats and coated the coats with grease. Then with string she tied their pant legs against their ankles and their cuffs to their wrists.

Scraping the grease bucket, she covered their face and hair and hands. She layered their greasy hands with greasy socks. Then she took an empty, sealed gallon jug with a secured lid and a rope tied through the finger hole. She tied it to their ankles and gave them each a whistle on a rope and had them hold the jug.

“You first girlie, come with me. YOU stay here.”

The little girl clung to her as she ran to the deck. She looked up at the stars.

“I need you to trust me. Hold on to the jug and close your eyes. Okay? You’ll be with your mom soon. Okay.”


She threw her overboard and ran back to the room as her scream filled the sky.

She entered the room.

“You threw my little sister over didn’t you?” said the boy.


“I’ll jump.”

“Show me cowboy.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not first class. Too stuffy for me. Bunch of God Wanna-Bees who think they are important. Shit, they don’t even know what a fucking Galaxy is! Look for a guy named ‘Hubble’ in a few years – he will FUCKING BLOW YOUR MIND. Tell your sister to remove the clothes as soon as you are on the lifeboat and that this was your idea. You do the same. Leave me out of it. PROMISE ME THAT. That is how you honor my death which will happen very shortly. Ten years from now, open this up and say this toast for me at the anniversary, and promise to me that you and your sister will NEVER say a word about me.”

She gave him a sealed envelope. He lept over the railing to help his sister float over to a life raft.



“Thank you for joining me in this dinner tonight. As promised, my sister and I have a toast to make to a lost friend whom we never knew.”

He opened up the sealed envelope and read it silently first.

MESSAGE FOR YOU TWO: Be yourselves – for me! – Cassandra.

He nodded at his sister. She held his hand.

Then he raised his voice and his glass.

A TOAST FROM AN UNKNOWABLE: This came from an artist I like. “So raise your glass if you wrong in all the right ways. All my underdogs, we will  never be NEVER BE anything but loud, and nitty gritty DIRTY LITTLE FREAKS!”

He was as puzzled as was everyone else. They raised their glass and the evening went forward. Questions about the toast came later and his reply was honest.

“I have no idea what it was about.”

One of the guests was a professor who brought up a subject of interest regarding astronomy.

“Have you heard of the work of Edwin Hubble?”

Sister reached out and grabbed brothers hand and gripped very, very tightly.

“I think I’ve heard him mentioned …”

Later, he framed the message.


Phil Fable – Ten Words

Phil walked through the Philosophy department of his local college on his way to the Planetarium for a show. School was about to open for the Fall semester and on the wall was a big piece of butcher paper with markers dangling by strings. The header of the butcher paper read “What is your Philosophy in Ten Words or Less?”

Without missing a beat, Phil picked up the marker and wrote the following:

I Am and I’m Not.
Truth Lies. 
Be Free Anyway.

“Sheesh, that’ll never sell,” he thought. “There is no way to gouge someone for cash for THAT!”


Phil’s half-brother Dexter walked up just at that moment and grabbing the pen wrote, “Freedom and No-Freedom are similar considerations, neither true nor false.”

The brothers looked at one another, each raising their chin in acknowledgement. Then turning to their dates went to find their seats. Phil likes this planetarium show especially that part on accretion. He had already seen it no fewer than 7 times. Dexter had never seen it but was interested in black holes which gobble everything near their event horizon yet gave off such tremendous energy bursts. Dexter smiled anticipating an explanation for this paradox. Dexter’s date, Cassie’s sister Clarissa, rolled her eyes.


Phil walked back. Re-ead the rebuttal. Crossed out free. Made an edit.

I Am and I’m Not.
Truth Lies. 

Phil Fable – The 1% Prodigal Son

Phil walked into the market place, found a spot and began to tell a parable to the masses.

Come near and I will tell you a story! He cried while handing and throwing out Susan B. Anthony dollars to an astonished crowd.”

“Here son! Have a dollar! Go get yourself half a soda!”

People were astonished to see someone actually GIVING money away while street performing.

“Come! Hear the fable of the ungrateful rich son!”

Enough people stopped for Phil to begin. The money helped. A homeless person had been able to land ten bucks out of the deal.

He bagan …


“Once there was a son born into tremendous wealth. But alas, he did not appreciate it. He whined and complained and acted like a spoiled, obnoxious BRAT! His father, decided to teach him a lesson about how the world really was. So he sent him to an impoverished Haiti for a summer to see how the less fortunate lived.

“The young lad returned to his father a CHANGED MAN!

His father meeting him at the airport asked him immediately what he thought, but his son was too saddened to answer. He clutched his father and WEPT. After they drove home, they went into his father’s study.”

“What did you learn son?”

“Father, there are SO MANY potential slaves to our will. Their will is ALREADY broken and we have SO FEW of them under our domain and it BREAKS MY HEART!”

“I know!” said the Father.

“They could serve us, if the world were OURS.”

His father teared up as his son continued. His son handed him a hanky.

“They are so ripe for our exploitation and domination and are do disgusting in their way. We ARE their rightful masters. They ARE chattel. We are the leaders of the earth, and the gods they need to worship.”

“His father shed a tear and choked out his reply … I KNEW YOU WOULD SEE! I hoped seeing people in such adverse circumstances would liberate you!”

They hugged a long, long time.

“WE ARE THE GODS OF EARTH!” said the son.


Phil paused for effect. There was just a little effect to be had.

“And THAT is the parable of the Prodigal 1% Son!”

He turned to the surveillance camera on the building to the right. Faced it. Tapped on his wrist watch and disappeared out of thin air. The security guard on the other end of the camera immediately tried to save and replay the scene, but for some reason, it never saved the last thirty seconds.

Nobody would believe his story about seeing a man disappear. Nor should they.

As people inspected the scene after he left, they found the following words written in chalk”

When all the world is full of evil, transform ALL mishaps into the path of Bodhi.” – The Lojong Proverbs

One guy took a picture of it. He looked down and saw a piece of paper. He picked it up.

It said, “All Dharmas fail. Be free anyway.”

Cassandra Fable – A Good Sandwich

Cassandra, sat at the table of a park in Glendale Arizona eating a vegan sandwich from Subway.

“I swear, being fifty ain’t easy in 2033,” she said. “These morons. It’ll take a hundred years before they sort out aging for the regular people. Everybody rich is already on the immortality train.”

“This was a good idea,” said Suzanne who enjoyed a meatball sub made from engineered meat. “So, you really believe you live infinite lives in infinite universes?”

“Yes, I do, but I don’t. It’s a paradox.”

“Is this a religion?”

“Oh no. No. It’s a conclusion I came to on my own and I have no teachers. I fired all them long ago. And I don’t look for followers. My objective is to change reality itself by how I live my life not by what I believe.”

“And the whole soul thing seems very complicated the way you describe it.”

“Yes, for me I see that the soul is an eternal paradox from two opposing truths existing as one absolute truth simultaneously. It’s heart is irrational and illogical. Why? Because this is impossible of course. These two postulates are:  ‘THERE ABSOLUTELY IS NO SOUL’ and ‘THERE ABSOLUTELY IS NO NO SOUL.’ Since the two absolutes conflict, then insanity is created when they share the reality of being true both at once in the same domain. I honestly admit that this notion is completely and utterly insane. If I’m right, the BASE of who we are is infinite, raging insanity – CHAOS.

Cassy let that soak in. Took a sip of her soda with a twinkle in her eye and elaborated.

“I use the mythology that sanity is the free will decision to ascend from madness confronting our animalistic madness itself to ascend in the direction of freedom. And madness is also a HAVEN we can retreat to when we are ruined by others through torture, abuse or domination. This is why torture victims go crazy. It’s liberating. So, the way I see it, if you strip away all our layers, what you will find is flaming batshit. That’s why you should avoid spiritual teachers who want to get you back to your basic self. Your basic self IS TOTAL INSANITY AND RAGING CHAOS!”

“I’ve never heard a spiritual teacher say THAT,” said Suzanne. “And you call yourself a ‘feeler’ a person who remembers past lives?”

“I don’t call them lives. I have no proof of them being lives. They are fantasies I enjoy with a hope they may be true. But there are good rumblings that parallel lives exist if multi-verses are real. But to answer your question I don’t imagine or remember ALL of them. My brain is too small to hold the infinite lives of me that are possible. And I don’t remember them as much as I imagine them.”

Casssy took a drink from her Diet Doctor Pepper. She turned her head revealing a liver spot she was unsuccessfully trying to cover with base. She put the cup down and continued.

“If I imagine me in a restaurant and there is a copy of me somewhere in space and somewhen in time EXACTLY like that, I think that that fantasy becomes a FACT to be enjoyed as memory. And if anything that can exist does, then my imaginings are in fact – histories. If I close my eyes right now and imagine this very setting, is it an imagined reality or is it fact?”

“It’s both I guess.”

“Let’s close our eyes and imagine ACTUALLY being here while we are here. Look around first and then imagine a fantasy world where everything is just like this, except my fingers are crossed. Let’s do it for a minute. Open and close your eyes randomly to make your imagination more vivid. Ready? Go!

They both tried it for a minute. They imagined where the were exactly and then opened their eyes to fill in details. Then they both would randomly go back to imagining their surroundings.

“Interesting,” said Suzanne.

“So, Suzanne, was your dream REAL?” asked Cassandra. “And for the record, I had my fingers crossed.”

“Yes and no.”

Cassy raised an eyebrow and took a bit of her sandwich. Suzanne did the same. It was a good time to pause.

“Tell me one of your lives that you imagine,” asked Suzanne.

“I’m on a planet, that has a large star like Antares. Fucking huge. The planet’s years take a long, long time because it has to be so far away from Antares to not be burned up. Antares is so big, that if it was in the center of our Universe, Jupiter would be inside of it. THAT’S how big Antares is. Years are measured by the cycles of our moon because it takes so long to get around.”


“Anyway, on that planet, I’m plain old me. But I have a SUCK life. I live in a backward, hick town. My father died in a stupid war, I’m just as smart as I am now, but there is NO chance to develop my mathematical gifts. My brother gets me hooked on an addictive substance similar to our meth amphetamine, and I spend my life cleaning houses until a rich woman blames me for a theft her daughter actually did. Her daughter plants the evidence to clear HER hame and *I* go to jail where I get raped by prison guards and get incurable VD. Later, the war comes home and all my family die, I get a skin disease and lose all my hair by thirty. And life goes down FROM THERE. Amid this life of suck, I have a dream. In this dream, I AM FREEDOM ITSELF. I really am. And it is amazing. It excites me, and I swear to never forget it or how to attain it. And when I awake, it is gone and I can’t remember it. But I can FEEL it.”

She stopped to take another bite of her sandwich.

Suzanne said, “I’ve had dreams like that. I once saw the meaning of life in a dream and when I woke up I scrambled for paper but when I got it, it was gibberish.”

Cassy nodded and took another bite or two and continued.

“That dream though. That dream was HERS and in a real sense mine. She REALLY felt that dream in that world. And in that moment exists an eternity of freedom. And I through my imagination can feel her frustration of not being able to remember that dream and I can feel her freedom in that dream. But, in that world I know that dream SOMEHOW told her that her suck ass life was okay. That even though it was awful, She could be grateful to be … ALIVE. She could just taste reality itself and feel, smell and hear it. She knew that no life, is to be feared. No life is to be embarrassed about. Life itself is the gift, not the living of it. And in that dream of freedom she had that night, she DID live her life in a way that was full of dignity, even though to all around her she was an object of contempt and scorn.”

Suzanne asked, “But tell me this. What DID you dream there? What IS that dream?”

Cassandra lowered her head.

“It was Me as freedom itself.”

Cassandra felt a pang in her heart. It was her again on that star from across eons. She stood up and raised her hand to the sky. Closed her eyes. She felt herself across time and space. Connected to herself THROUGH that dream she had around that massive star so long ago. Then she closed her eyes and giggled. Her giggle peeled through the park melodiously. And then she heard something deep within. A different laugh returning. HER laughter returning from that star.”

She stopped. Opened her eyes and returned to her sandwich.

Her friend’s face was very still, she didn’t know how to handle this display from her old friend. She pasted a smile on the experience and tried to lighten things up by upping her voice pitch.

“So which one is your favorite story? I BET it’s the one with Brad Pitt!”

Cassy lowered the boom.

“That IS my favorite story because she LOVED life anyway. It seems like I pushed your AWKWARD button Suzanne. That’s okay. It sometimes happens. Please take it as a complement that I think of you so highly that I went awkward so you could see the real me.”

“Do you think it’s real?, asked Suzanne.”

“I think it’s enough.”