I'm no longer #5, The Runner of the LSD.
#5, The Runner, is dead.
After my adventures in Sweden, I had one favour left: Malik explained to me how I could become a writer: "Quotably, Juan Carlos Onetti said: «literature is the art of lying truthfully». As every word you write is true, Sami, you don't have to bother about writing literature.
» Writing is easy. Primarily, the first fifty percent of writing is just plain stubbornness. The art is to start and don't give up until it's finished. Subsequently, the other half of writing is: when it works, it's good. A programmer writes a function, and when the function does what it should do, the writing is good. A scenario writer writes a sitcom, and when the audience laughs, the writing is good. A journalist writes about what happened, and when the reader understands, the writing is good. A novelist writes a thriller, and when the reader cannot put the book down, the writing is good. A poet writes emotions, and when the reader gets that feeling too, the writing is good.
» Initially, after writing my first poem, I went to a publisher. He read it and started to cry. At that moment I knew I was a poet, and that didn't change because he said he'd never in his life read anything worse than my work (except the slogan «BrandiX washing powder removes invisible stains»). The grammar, the word choice, the structure of the sentences, the literary figures, and even the style of the writing have no other value but to support that the writing works. That's the only trick. If your writing reaches the effect you aimed for, you're a writer."
What was the effect I aimed for as a spy?
I wanted to save the world.
The only organizations capable of destroying the world are… governments. To avoid one crazy King or Emperor pushing that button or sending his troops, we invented democracy and the United Nations. The UN helped a lot, but the danger is still there. I worked for a government. Instead of saving the world, I helped Luxembourg to get total power over all the others.
I wanted to protect the good part of humanity against the bad elements.
The problem was in the definition of Good and Bad. I thought Good was what my mother taught me: fight Bad, fight the animal behaviour and the Seven Deadly Sins of gluttony, greed, lust, pride, sloth, wrath and envy, the Darwin style of the Law of the Jungle, that only works for the fittest to survive. Support Human Qualities like tolerance, perseverance, patience, courage, creativity, wisdom and love. The Dante style: the team is always stronger than any individual; it gives the best results for everyone.
Darwin is based on power, on extremes, on animal instincts, on selfishness, on violence and killing and hate.
Dante is based on truth, on balance, on intelligence, on working together for the benefit of everyone, on education and learning and love.
I followed Dante.
I was wrong.
Good and Bad isn't a matter of philosophy.
Good and Bad isn't a matter of quality.
It's all about quantity.
There is only one law, the Universal Law of Good and Bad: Good wins, and Bad loses. In fiction, Good always wins, and in real life, the winner calls himself Good, even if he won, thanks to bad behaviour.
The majority always wins. The majority of humanity feeds on instincts, on being selfish, on defending their own way of life, no matter the consequences, with desires like being the best, doing as little as possible, having more than others, being overweight, making selfies, getting attention instead of giving it, dominating other inferior species, who are not as powerful, violent, and greedy as we are… We chose Hitler democratically and we still choose Presidents who build walls instead of bridges. TV can be an excellent medium for education, but every viewer prefers to watch the channels with sex 'n' drugs 'n' rock 'n' roll. We could find so much satisfaction in helping each other for free, but we have been taught only to move when we get paid for it. We fulfil our divine desires of gluttony, greed, lust, pride, sloth, wrath and envy. Humanity is nothing but animals, dressed in Armani. The evil we're facing is our own apathetic society, and we're all looking for a hero to fight it because we're convinced there's nothing we can do about it ourselves. All we need is an idea: fight apathy with empathy, fight ignorance with education. But fighting bad behaviour is bad behaviour itself. There had to be a better way…
As a spy, I had to obey orders. My government told me to follow their politics of the Law of the Jungle. The majority is always right. I was wrong. I know that now. One man can't change the world. According to Nelson Mandela (a man who changed the world, all by himself), only education can change the world. The spy had to die, to give birth to the teacher, the writer. Blood had to be turned into ink. Bullets had to be replaced by kisses. The story had to be told. The readers can write the next chapters, together.
The pen of the writer might be mightier than the sword, but no pen is mightier than the bomb that destroys our planet, launched by a democratically chosen leader. Humanity will follow its path and nobody will be able to stop them, not even if that path leads to destruction. The Universal Law of Good and Bad will, in the end, be right: if humanity is stupid enough to destroy itself, then it's a Good thing for the Universe to be without us, and if we learn to find a better way than the Law of the Jungle, it might at the end be a Good thing too. Mother Nature always wins; her story will always have a happy ending.
I wanted to save the world, but that's no longer necessary: the world will always save itself. That's a reassuring thought. It gives me the chance to focus on other goals. I've found a new dream: being on the side of an amazing woman and doing what I can to make her happy, as a little payback for all the happiness she gives me. Perhaps it's not as epic as saving the world, but it's at least as fascinating and fulfilling.
That's the effect I aimed towards when I started to write my story. Show And Tell. The Power of Love is stronger than the bomb that can destroy humanity, and it's the only weapon we have against our instinctive hatred that wants to launch that bomb. In the end, Good will always win. Until that moment, I prefer to fill my days, kissing Frieda.
I only had to write half of the story. My spiPhone automatically grabs every word of spoken conversation, translates it into a text file, and saves a copy every 15 minutes on my secret backup space in the cloud. The other half was hard work, but it was nice too. We, men, we like to see the result of our work. Over half a million words, that's quite a result. Seven novels, it makes me proud. I had hardly any time to write them. I contacted Frankie 'Florence' Nightingale, the publisher from Gibraltar. We met in «The French Formula». She showed her interest, but only if I'd finish the complete series within seven weeks. "The audience has a short memory, and we want to use the publicity from the fight…", she said.
For reasons of personal security and protection of my loved ones, I couldn't write under my own name. Apart from Malik, I only knew one writer, Ronaldo7, the one who started that fight during the Poetry In Motion Contest in Brest and now has to spend the next 3.000 years of his life in prison. I told Frankie I couldn't do any publicity tour and she could keep the royalties that are usually paid to the writer because all I wanted was to have as many readers as possible, to tell the world about the secret powers of the happy elite minority that tries everything to make the majority unhappy. She took the bait.
Today is the last day of the seven weeks. I just finished the final Read&Edit-session and I have one hour left to write these final words, save the file, and mail it via a secure satellite connection to Gibraltar. Strange. Usually, a spy story ends when the spy dismantles the time bomb just seconds before it explodes. I have one hour left to activate it, to finish a story that might start a worldwide revolution, no, evolution (or become the biggest joke in human history). I trust it will be a hit: people love to read about secrets; they love to look into the kitchen of Central Intelligence and see how they cook up plans. My flops will make it a bestseller: humour is the most wanted genre, and hardly any writer risks hor neck to write it. Why bother? I write under the name of somebody else; everybody will laugh about him instead of me, ha, ha…
Frieda and I don't need the royalties from these books. We give them to the people on Haiti, who need them more. With my savings, we've bought a boat to live on. We organize fishing trips for tourists, which pays for what we need. We have an ocean full of free fresh fish, we have a garden full of biological vegetables and fine fruits, we have solar panels for our electricity, and on my spiPhone, we have all the books and music we like, for free. We don't have problems, so we don't have to pay taxes. Clothes…? We're just married. Why would we need clothes?
"Are you ready? We have to go to a dancing class, and after that, we have our first karaoke lesson."
It's Frieda, my wife. She kisses me behind my ear and asks what I'm doing: "I'm done. It's finished. Well, almost finished. I have one final loose end, one final question to answer. Please, give me five more minutes…"
I have one final problem to solve, the Enigma of Life: which side should we choose? Prose or Poetry? Left or Right? Democrat or Republican? Socialism or Liberalism? Working class or Leading elite? Voters or Governments? Motivate with the carrot or with the stick? Emotions or Reason? Black or White? Vegetables or Meat? Woman or Man?
The answer is simple. It's the same answer for each question: both. Don't pick sides. Together always wins. A good meal combines meat and vegetables with pasta, olive oil, fish, and a tiny bit of salt. A good government does not choose between its poor voters and its rich voters but finds solutions for everyone, helping the poor to work for the rich and the rich to take care of the poor. There is no superior race, except when that is 'The Human Race', the sum of all those unique individuals who all have their qualities and their vote and the right to contribute something to a better world. Extremes are bad. Truth is balance, Human Qualities, doing it together, one for all and all for one. Good literature taught us that, and before we learnt how to write, we had songs and legends with the same purpose.
The Secret of Life is to find a balance between the head and the heart. Let our logic control our animal instincts to avoid them becoming the extreme Seven Deadly Sins, and let our positive feelings motivate our brains to make the right decisions. That's not a matter of culture or religion. That's a matter of education. It's love (consisting of Trust, Respect and Commitment) that should be both the motivator and the goal of the concept Humanity.
Love made me give up my old dream and love made me find a better one.
I chose with my brain and I chose with my heart: I needed somebody to love and I needed somebody who would love me. I needed to get married; only together, man and woman can save the world. And that's what I did, well, I asked and she decided to save my world, saying: "Yes, I do." Women always have the final word.
The answer I was looking for all the time was just one four-letter word: love.
Love can save the world. And my role in that process is not to fight for it but to write it down, as it's not the soldier but the teacher who brings love, as it's not bombs but education that makes our planet a better place.
My parents taught me love, giving it to me and everyone around them, every day. All I had to do was understand. It took a while, seven missions and a lot of stupidity, but without the suffering of the voyage, the destination has no value. If you haven't experienced the Bad, you can't appreciate the Good. I needed each step to come to where I am now, on a tiny island in the Pacific, next to the most amazing person I know: my wife Frieda.
I no longer have the need to save the world. When the world is smart enough, it can save itself. And when the world is stupid… It won't need saving.
Intelligence is not the capacity of our brain; it's the skill to learn, to understand the importance of new information and the benefit it has for the situation. If intelligence would be the same as knowing a lot, Wikipedia would be the most intelligent creature on Earth. Intelligence is the skill to change, to learn from our mistakes and find a better solution. Military Intelligence found out that one brilliant Napoleon could be defeated by a bunch of allied Generals, working together: at Waterloo, Darwin's fittest was defeated by a better idea. Giving all the power and all the profit to one person is not a good idea either. Sharing the responsibility and sharing the benefits that come with it, that's what leaders should stimulate and voters should learn. Love is a verb.
Frieda doesn't allow me to finish this story. She whispers in my ear: "We have to go. We have a dancing class. You promised to do better this week. It's your mission to avoid stepping on the toes of Mrs Snowden. And after that, we're going to sing karaoke, Gangnam Style." She nibbles my ear. She tickles my neck. She wants to be kissed. But she'll have to wait; I have one final mission to end: this chapter, the final chapter of the final story of a series of events that I had to tell to the world, my final effort to save that world, or at least an attempt to make some of the people who live on it a little happier. I have to finish this. My publisher has a deadline. I try to explain it to her: "Frankie says…"
She doesn't listen. She doesn't want to listen. She wants that kiss.
I escape from her lips: "Frankie says…"
Women always have the last word. She puts her finger on my lips, smiles mysteriously and whispers in my ear: "Frankie says… No more!"