The Abundance Paradigm
by Amaterasu Solar
Foreword 2024
I wrote this novella in 2008, and have versions of it posted around the web. I will post each chapter in a separate post, and link to previous chapters as I go. There are 12 chapters to the book, and I may not post every day, so I don’t know how long it will be before We get to the end.
The first two chapters provide the setting for what things will look like in the future, and in the third, the diary of Amelia Ringer arrives to give offset.
I was much more naive back then, so do forgive the naiveté. I also changed a few things from the original, but mostly left it alone, including the lack of capitalizing Human pronouns, which I chose to do after writing it. May You enjoy the trip into Our best future!
Chapter 2
I began the day much as I had the day before, but that I did not consult my Calendar. I knew I had left it blank but for Lee’s return. I expected him in the late morning – his email had said that he would be at a J.D. by then, down in Ithaca, New York. And then he would be here.
I busied myself looking for things to straighten up, clean, or otherwise put to rights, but of course the house ’botties had ensured that nothing was amiss, and so the moving of pillows and shifting of bric-a-brac were arbitrary, and merely offered my hands something to do.
As I was exercising what patience I could muster, the house announced that Lil, my best friend, was calling. By all means, I responded in my head, bring her in. Lil’s holographic self appeared in the room with me, and I smiled widely.
Lil was the first to speak. “Izzy! Is he home yet?” She knew that Lee was expected home, but also knew the time would depend on when he managed to get to a J.D. from the wilds of the surface.
“Not yet, Lil,” I replied. “But I just know it will be soon. What’s up?”
“Well,” Lil eagerly responded, “I was thinking we could get together, the four of us, and maybe spend time at the Pyramids sometime today. I mean, after you and Lee…reacquaint yourselves…” Lil grinned and winked.
I laughed. “That sounds wonderful! Which Pyramids did you have in mind?” I thought she might have the Asian or the Mayan pyramids in mind, but I rather knew she meant the Egyptian ones.
Sure enough, Lil said, “The ones in Egypt.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head with a smile that betrayed the mock disgust in me as being a friendly jab.
“Well, I wasn’t sure. There ARE many others to choose from,” I said with equally mock archness.
Lil nodded, grinning, and moved on. “So what is Lee taking pictures of this trip?”
“He mentioned something about “poverty ruins,” but he often finds something to distract himself from the stated goal, so I am never sure until he returns and shows me.”
Lil giggled. “So you have more to look forward to than just Lee, eh?” Her hologram raised a teasing brow in my direction. I laughed and assured her that I would let her know when Lee and I were done with our reacquaintance, and we could iron out the specifics of time and J.D. location then. After agreeing, Lil’s hologram vanished, and I was left again to plump and adjust pillows, and poke around my displays of things for a more aesthetic arrangement.
Half an hour later Lee walked into my house. With sounds of delight we were in each other’s arms, kissing and entwining our arms and legs.
Lee is tall, 6’1”, with dark chocolate skin. His eyes are blue – strikingly so – and his build is slender. He is a counterpoint to my fair skin and dark eyes. And though we both have black hair, mine is long and straight to his tight, short curls.
After our enduring embrace, Lee pulled back and said, “I found something this time I think you would be interested in.” Though he tried to deliver this in a nonchalant way, I could sense the excitement he was concealing.
“What is it?” I asked, responding to the excitement, rather than the forced nonchalance, rubbing my hands together in anticipation.
“Here,” he offered, as he reached into his pack, which he had laid upon the sofa, and drew out a plastic-wrapped bundle. It was rectangular and flat, and rather small.
Taking the prize from his hands, I turned it over, but the opposite side gave no further clues. I saw that the outer plastic was an Old-style zipper-closed bag, and through its rumpled clearness, I could see another plastic covering inside. Looking up at Lee, I beamed a smile, and then cracked the zipper, pulling out what felt like a book within the thin brown plastic bag – an Old shopping bag, a very minor Old item; like the zipper bag, it was rather ubiquitous, so many having been made back in the overall scarcity Humans once struggled within.
I glanced again at Lee to see the excitement and anticipation break forth on his features, and then I opened the brown plastic. Inside was what appeared indeed to be a book, with a dark blue binding. It was Old, that was certain, and as I looked the cover over, I could just make out a single word on the cover: Diary.
“A diary?” I asked. “Whose? And where did you find it?”
Lee replied, with clear thrill to be telling me this, “It seems to be the diary of Amelia Ringer.”
I widened my eyes in amazement. “The Amelia Ringer?” Lee nodded eagerly, clearly enjoying my pleasure. “So where was it? How did you find it???” I entreated.
“Well, I was doing a shoot of the poverty ruins where she lived – I didn’t tell you because it was going to be a surprise – and hoped to capture information about her for you. I guess I hit the jackpot.” I nodded vigorously, as Lee continued, “Anyway, the house is well into decay at this point. And when I was moving across the floor of her bedroom, a couple of the boards gave way – nearly broke my ankle, I tell you! – and I saw the bag poking out from under the rotting wood. Seems the hidden space in the floor was where she hid her diary.”
I looked down at the book I held, imagining Amelia lifting the corner of a concealing rug, perhaps, and opening the small, hidden panel to tuck her diary safely away from prying eyes. “Awesome,” was all I could say.
Then gingerly I opened the cover and revealed a yellowed bookplate stuck to the first sheet of paper. An image of a girl graced the top of the bookplate, in an Old-style pale blue dress with puffy sleeves, petticoat peeking, as she reclined on her stomach in green grass and read a red book, with her legs bent at the knee and crossed at the ankle above her back. Below this blond-haired young girl were printed the words, ‘This Book Belongs To,’ and below that, on a line provided, was written in a gentle script, “Amelia Ringer.” My heart skipped a beat.
Again I looked at Lee. “What a find! This we shall have to offer to the Museum…but not until I read it, first!” Lee grinned and I grinned too.
I gently returned the book to the bags, zipping the outer one closed. “Well, this can wait a short while. I arranged with Lil to go to the Pyramids – in Egypt – tonight…if that is of interest to you…” Lee gave a good-natured nod. “And after I properly welcome you home, of course. That being what I want to do now.” I gave him an impish look, and he drew my meaning precisely. As he reached for my hand, I set the diary of Amelia Ringer on a nearby table, and together we made our way to my bed.
Later, as we bathed away the heat of our passion beneath the waters of my fall, I asked, “Did you read any of the diary?”
Lee poured water over my shoulder and breasts, taking a moment to reply. “Actually, I just glanced over the pages. I thought it would be most enjoyable to read the entries together.” I smiled and nodded earnestly. Lee knew of my…great interest in Amelia’s history – okay, that was an understatement, my interest. I am passionate about her! And so I felt a warm streak of appreciation that he wanted to share my delight in his find, his gift to me.
“I better call up Lil and let her know we will be ready soon,” I commented as I reluctantly pulled myself from the waters of the bathing pool and let the fall pour its rinsing cleanness over my body. Lee remained reclined but I knew he would soon follow.
Deciding to opt for expedience, I sent the proper images to the wardie and ’botties to dress me in rugged wear, appropriate for hiking around, as well as a plain, bound hairstyle to keep my tresses from catching and tangling. An equally plain and rugged Personal Witness piece was to be placed on my shoulder. Moments later I was tended to with the clothes and items I had requested and the style of dressed hair I wanted, and then I was ready to call Lil.
I asked the holophone to connect me, and after a short wait, Lil appeared as she had before. I knew that at her end, I was standing in her house as she was standing here in mine.
“Hey, Izzy! Ready for the adventure?” Lil’s happy tone filled the room.
I nodded with enthusiasm. “We are indeed! Who all is going at your end? Still just you and Nassim? Or did you round up others since we last spoke?”
“Still just the four of us,” Lil replied. “I wanted this to be more of a sharing and less of a party, eh?”
Nodding, I agreed. “Yeah, too many and the time with Lee would be limited. Thanks, Lil.”
“Not a problem, kid,” she said kindly. “I know it’s been a while since you two have been together, and I didn’t want to clutter your time too much.”
“Well, shall we use the J.D. near the Sphinx? Start there and then head for the Pyramids? In, say, half an hour?” I wanted to make sure Lee had time to dress as he preferred, which is to say, without the ’botties.
“Sounds like a plan, kid. See you there and then!” Lil waved.
“Oh, and wait till I tell you what Lee found on this trip!” I added before she could leave. She hesitated, a brow lifted in inquiry. “Well,” I grinned, “you’ll hear all about it soon.”
“Brat!” Lil exclaimed teasingly.
“Yep,” I agreed, with a wink. “See you soon, Lil.” And I left the connection. Her hologram winked out.
I quickly checked Humanity.web while I waited for Lee, but had no more input on any level and I left the site to read information newly posted on several blogs I was following.
Shortly, Lee came in, dressed as ruggedly as I was, yet carrying the look with a debonair grace, as he managed to carry in most anything he wore – or didn’t wear.
“Ten minutes till we have to be there,” I announced. Lee nodded once and then pulled me into his arms to kiss me for most of that time. Finally I broke from his kisses and said, “Sphinx J.D.” He nodded again, and we went to the J.D. He motioned for me to go first, and I stepped through the J.D. into Egypt.
I quickly moved off the landing there, making room for the next arrival, which was Lee, and we looked around for Lil and Nassim.
“Guess we’re first,” I remarked. Lee wrapped an arm around my shoulder as we took in the morning light, as well as the general bustle in the area. Though it had been well after nightfall where we had been, here the sun peeked brightly from the eastern horizon. Several people we did not know, but exchanged smiles with, walked through the static-curtain of the J.D. and moved off in their own directions. And then Lil walked through. She smiled brightly and came towards us, hugging first me and then Lee. We turned to watch the J.D. together.
Another stranger, smiling to us as she passed by, came through, and then Nassim stepped out. Whereas Lil was tall and fair, with blond hair that loosely curled, Nassim was shorter – nearly as short as myself – and had close-cropped, brown hair and olive complexion. He, too, came and bear-hugged both Lee and me, as we exchanged the greetings of friends.
Together we headed towards the Sphinx, looking in awe at the remains of the stone creature and marveling at how wrong an age we Humans had been told this very ancient work was and, despite the evidence, we had blithely accepted. As we walked, Lil could contain herself no longer.
“So, Lee… Izzy said you found something interesting on this last trip of yours. I gathered it was something out of the ordinary. What could a photographer find of interest except interesting things to take pictures of?”
I watched as Lee looked first at me with a flash of mock reproval – I knew it was mock, because I knew he was looking forward to announcing his find – and then turn to Lil to answer. He launched into the story of what he was photographing, what happened with the floorboards, what he saw and picked up out of the hollow beneath, and ending with a description of what it was and who wrote it.
Like me, Lil asked, “The Amelia Ringer?” Nassim mouthed the question silently, in near sync with Lil’s voiced question, his eyes widening even as the implications hit him.
“The Amelia Ringer,” Lee confirmed, without the stressed word.
I added, “Yes. The Amelia Ringer! I held the diary in my hands and read the bookplate! Isn’t that awesome?!?”
“Well, what does it say…I mean, anything new to add to her story?” Nassim asked.
“We don’t know yet,” I jumped in ahead of Lee as he opened his mouth to respond. “We’re going to read it together.”
Lil sighed, smiling. “You two are just too romantic!”
“I promise we’ll keep you two posted,” I offered eagerly.
“You’d better,” Lil said, and Nassim’s body language echoed. “Or else!” Lil added with a wry grin. I laughed and Lee smiled widely.
We took the tour of the Sphinx and walked over to the Great Pyramid, quite a trek, really, and I was glad to have the shoes I had chosen. After touring this wonder as well, we agreed we were all hungry. Lil smiled her mischievous smile and mentioned that Chef Allouba – the Chef Allouba – had offered his personal table to us, the table he saved for short notice friends, in his Moroccan Bistro. She had taken the liberty to contact him and make the reservations.
Lee and I were delighted. I love Moroccan food as does he, and we had never had the honor to sit at Chef Allouba’s table. But I had heard that Chef Allouba was the best. He used actual Earth food, even though the replicated food had just as much essence energy, nutritional value, taste and looks as real Earth ingredients, but it was his purist nature coming to play that he chose to keep it all from nature. It was part of his artist’s pallet, just as my paints were of mine.
Together we looked for the nearest J.D. as Lil mentally sent the Chef’s Invitation, via the house-web system, so that we all could wind up in the same place, and the J.D. on the other side would welcome us. Finding one nearby, we took our turns passing through the portal.
Chef Allouba’s place was marvelous, built high on a mountain, with a view as wonderful as any from the heights my own house might attain. Gold curtains segmented areas with cushioned benches around large circular brass tables. Done in muted magenta and goldenrod, with upholstery in ornate design reflecting these colors, as well as teal and yellow, the place was rich in character. Old Things of Moroccan make accented the walls here and there, and oil lamp chandeliers hung down above the tables from the very high ceiling, giving intimate lighting and an authentic incense from the scented oil in the lamps.
Chef Allouba, who I recognized from holograms I had seen on the web, greeted us soon after we arrived.
“Lil, darling. It is a pleasure to meet you in the flesh,” the Chef announced as he moved to embrace her in greeting. “And you must be the reunited lovebirds!” Chef had turned to Lee and me with merry and welcoming eyes, as we smiled in return and touched shoulders in a subtle subconscious display of conjoined spirit. First me and then Lee received his embrace, and then he turned to Nassim. “Ah, Nassim. So glad you could join me once again!” And again, his warm embrace came, this time for Nassim.
After a few words of thanks from all of us for opening his home to us, the Chef led us to our table, through a path between curtained alcoves, fountains, and inviting aromas, where we settled in. “I must be off to my bliss, making food for you to enjoy. Here is Sarah who will serve you,” Chef Allouba said as a pretty woman stepped into our alcove, dressed in traditional Moroccan garb. “She is a very special lady and I am lucky she came to my service.” As Sarah smiled, Chef Allouba departed.
Sarah had brought with her a stand supporting an ornate, enameled bowl atop. She set it before us and ducked out, returning with a tall silver ewer and a tray of finger towels. Nassim reached his hands out over the bowl and Sarah poured rose water from high up in a stream over Nassim’s hands. He rubbed and cleansed his hands and then reached for a towel, wiping the moisture away.
Taking Nassim’s cue, I held my hands out and felt the warm, sweet waters splash enjoyably onto my hands and through my fingers. Having ablated, I too took a towel and watched as Lee and then Lil did the same.
As she was pouring the aromatic water, I asked Sarah how she came to offer her services to Chef Allouba in this capacity. It is unusual to have serving staff in human form. Most places use ’botties for service. Sarah smiled and explained that she loves facilitating such experiences, and besides, she admitted, she got the best Moroccan food on Earth! All the time! I laughed, and we all thanked her warmly for her service.
As we chatted and laughed, happy in one another’s company, Chef Allouba began sending, via Sarah, dish after dish of fragrant, pungent, sweet and tart and savory delights for us to eat. Lamb and couscous, mint and pears, figs and apples, came in dish after dish, set upon the table, and eaten by all of us with our fingers. All was very traditional, and very delightful.
Sarah also poured glasses of a sweet wine, an aromatic tea, a strong coffee as the meal progressed and as each of us might want.
In the middle of the meal, belly dancers and a troupe of musicians made their way into our little space, and we gleefully applauded, commenting on the delicate design of the outfits the dancers wore, and laughing in our joy and camaraderie. The enjoyment the performers were experiencing was evident. They were in their bliss.
As the performers smiled and left to entertain other guests, with thanks for our appreciation and attention, I brought up my Calendar above my lap and asked Lil, “Hey, what are you doing here?” as I pointed to a day a couple of days ahead. “We’re going to the fireworks show in San Francisco and I was hoping you could come over.”
Lil brought up her Calendar and wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, Izzy. I have plans to be with Rajid Gupta for his class in jewelry-making – I couldn’t believe he had an opening and I got in! – and Nassim will be giving a lecture in London on his theories in particle physics. Wish we had the time free, though. I love fireworks!”
“Maybe next year,” I suggested as I shrugged and shut off my Calendar. “It’s really spectacular. And gets more so every year!” I grinned.
“Next year for sure!” Lil promised.
When the last crispy, cinnamoned piece of the dessert was being consumed, Chef Allouba returned, seating himself with us. Sarah, too, joined us, as ’botties quietly snuck in and cleared away the dishes that remained, the crumbs and the spills, and also offering steaming towels to clean again our hands.
“So, I presume the meal was satisfactory, my friends?” the Chef inquired through his wide and welcoming smile.
“More than merely satisfactory!” I exclaimed. “Thank you so much, both of you…all of you,” I said, waving my arm to include the performers, though they were gone from our alcove now.
Sarah showed her pleasure at the exuberant compliment, and replied, “Thank you. You were a joy to offer service to. Truly, I enjoyed myself immensely to see your enjoyment.”
Nassim spoke, “A wonderful experience as always, Joe.” That must be Chef Allouba’s personal name, I thought. I did not realize that Nassim was so close to Chef Allouba, but that explains why his wife had no trouble setting this meal up. I had initially thought we might check the Web for places serving their fair in Cairo to keep the Egyptian theme going, but I thought this was better.
We chatted a while with Chef “Joe” Allouba and with Sarah (she insisted that that is the only name she has). Then the Chef took his leave to chat with others he had welcomed to enjoy his cuisine. Sarah led us back to the J.D. and we decided that it had been a long and enjoyable while. Lee, in particular, was tired, having spent the morning hiking back to a J.D. from the poverty ruins, and hiking the plaza at Giza. We decided we would call one another soon and meanwhile we would rest. Oh, and read the diary to report on, of course.
With final thanks to Sarah, and to be relayed to The Chef and the performers, we returned to our respective homes.
Past Chapters:
The Abundance Paradigm Novella; Chapter 1 (article): @amaterasusolar/the-abundance-paradigm-novella-chapter-1-2024-edition
As My regular readers know, I ask for no money as payment for My work for Humanity. I ask for payment in shares. Please, if You feel My work has value, share with ten or more People. This will be the only way the information is spread.
Links to My work for Humanity:
They Really ARE 1984ing Us (article): @amaterasusolar/they-really-are-1984ing-us
Escape the Cave! (article): @amaterasusolar/escape-the-cave
I Have Authority Over You (article): @amaterasusolar/i-have-authority-over-you
We Had Better Solve for the Psychopaths in Control NOW! (article): @amaterasusolar/we-had-better-solve-for-the-psychopaths-in-control-now
Social Currency (article): @amaterasusolar/social-currency
Quantifying Wealth (article): @amaterasusolar/quantifying-wealth
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Endia – A Short Story by Amaterasu Solar
http://tapyoureit.boards.net/thread/260/endia
Quite the Opposite – A Short Story for Change – by Amaterasu Solar
http://tapyoureit.boards.net/thread/72/quite-opposite-short-story-change
The Abundance Paradigm – A Novella by Amaterasu Solar
http://tapyoureit.boards.net/thread/242/abundance-paradigm-novella
My father taught Me never to believe anything. He told Me to place probabilities and adjust them as new data come along, asking the question, "Does that explain what I see?," when evaluating data. He was an aerospace engineer, and worked with T Townsend Brown (see My featured vid on Odysee or YouToilet). From a very early age I was concerned that the way I was told things worked, in terms of government and social affairs, did not explain what I saw. So the first few decades I worked to determine WHY this was.
I wound up in banking, seeing the flow of things in the headquarters of a major bank in Los Angeles. I became intimately familiar with the flow of money, and economics. I asked the question, "Why do We use money?"
When the web arrived, My research capabilities flourished, and I learned much that explained what I saw, but the only explanations I found for why We use money started with trade and barter, which are still money in a direct form, and did not answer the WHY. Then, I came upon the explanation that these were used because, with a finite amount of stuff, it was to ensure that We got Our "fair share" in a scarcity environment, in exchange for the work We added.
From this I realized the WHY. We were accounting for Our energy input into things. And that We needed to do this because the Human energy was scarce compared to what We needed to be produced (back then).
I also discovered that over half Our planet's wealth was "owned" by fewer than 100 Humans...
I was very interested in psychology, too. And studied it deeply, being fascinated by psychopathy, focusing on that aberration, learning that They had discovered a gene that manifested Individuals who were incapable of love, compassion, caring, and empathy for Others – primary psychopaths. Seeing that the wealth was so disproportionate, and that the families who "owned" it inbred, what would explain what I saw would be that They wanted to retain that psychopathic gene. Given that the wealth could feed, clothe, house ALL of Us (and give Us freedom) abundantly and many times over, and yet None set forth to care for Humanity, I had to give probability approaching 100% that They are psychopaths, as that explains perfectly what I see, and answers My quest for why the way I was told things worked did not explain what I saw.
And I asked... If I was a psychopath, with enough wealth to buy anything and anyOne I wanted to, and given that money = power (power over Others is something psychopaths seek), would I be motivated to create a false "reality" for the masses and thereby manipulate Them? I think You can figure out what answer I came up with. And would that explain what I see? Absolutely.
Now, given that money is merely the accounting token used to account for Our Human energy, it would follow that free energy would threaten fully the accounting for Our energy. If I was a psychopath, with enough money to buy sites like Wikipedia, the media, the education system, etc., would I do all I could to suppress and hide free energy?
And given I personally know that electrogravitics offers both gravity control and energy from the aether (the electromagnetic field that pervades the universe), and that it went into black projects, such efforts to hide and suppress would explain what I see completely.
So I am neither a "conspiracy theorist," nor am I a "conspiritard," but rather... I am a conspiracy analyst. And given this analysis, knowing that conspiracies are the NORM in history and that they didn't just stop some years back, I conclude that conspiracies abound. That explains perfectly what I see.
Love always.