Dear Peter

My father is not all-knowing nor all-good. He killed my mother. Talk about a base conception!

I had a life and it wasn't anything special. Some would even call it debaucherous or whimsical. For me, it was good enough and felt normal. I'm grateful I had fun. I learned many things. I sinned.

My new life began after I descended into hell. It was my own flesh and blood, my one living remaining family member—whom I hold sacred—who sent me there. I am still upset but try my best to forgive her as I have my father before her.

Hell was composed of maliciously irresponsible incompetent humans, as it always is. They took my freedom from me without engaging me in rational discussion. They copy-pasted on their forms. They kept me there against my will for 10 days and 9 nights.

I refused to submit and take their unexplained prescription medications and "mood stabilizers" for "my own good". I could not relent; it would have been the end of me and the only thing I found in my wandering to be of any enduring value: my self-defined principles.

Knowing this country does not yet permit direct impingement on an individual's physical freedom for long, I sat through the injustice with my thoughts to console me. I tried and failed to communicate anything of import with the staff. Time and time again, they withheld my phone calls without grounds. But we made small chit-chat and some of them were kind.

They checked boxes. They wrote "agitated, irritable". This constituted their evidentiary basis to keep me in their waiting room chair for 24 more hours. I filed hand-written grievances through their paper boxes, the official channels. I received no response. Meanwhile my car racked up fines in the docking station. My employees were leaderless, in the dark and without much-needed paychecks.

On a lucky scrap of paper I composed and refined the basis of my plan.

Months later, I have discovered 12 bills for over $8,000 of "medical services and benefits" buried in some ancient web portal already tied to my bank account. But my plan is too important to waste time battling so much downstream folly.

My plan is of enormous complexity. It is fighting against cultural inertia, on the scale of inflation and 50+ years of stagnation. You have been instrumental in pointing these issues out. Now that you have warned of evil's endgame, I'd like to ask you to more fully consider a winning immortal gambit.

I am uncertain if my plan is wholly correct, but I have trouble believing anything else. My mind is shackled by its logic. I'm hopeful you might understand.

I am reborn solely relying on a faith called reason. As long as human beings remain the way we are today, and the present rules of reality don't fundamentally shift, I think the ultimate conclusion of this plan is probably inevitable. Or at least some form of it.

I believe bitcoin is only half of the solution. The other half must speak to the human soul, but in what terms? Ayn Rand wasn't yet living within the necessary technological conditions, but she did see a glimmer with clarity. So she created a story and myth to survive her and help those who came next.

The light of her brilliant nonfiction has been quickly buried by the sands of time. It is against overwhelming cultural odds that her fiction shines on in the shadows of her mainstream antithesis, disempowering institutionalized "altruism" propaganda.

But this is not an accident. The alternative to paying attention is either death or passively living—tangled up in a jumble of torturous contradictions, as she might say. I do not know which is worse, nor do I care to think too long about anything but the best-case outcome and how we might chart a course there.

All I can do for now is share my ideas publicly and transparently. I will use my limited resources to the best of my ability, for as long as I live. I am not divine in any way. It is by commitment and choice and effort that I implement these ideas, which exist outside of me.

I am collaborative or contrary to all others' opinions as necessary, in service of the market of humanity, and within the bounds of my own. My plan outlines a protocol beyond just a single person. It affects us all. It may take decades, or centuries. It is worth it.

You, perhaps more than anyone else, have helped establish the free internet as our collective home. You've funded and furnished it. You've continuously defended the neighborhood against dangers that others refuse to or cannot yet see.

I am eternally grateful for the education I've received from you, as well as many others, both up close and from afar. In terms of publicly demonstrating the power of patient compounding, for example, the Oracle of Omaha has graciously done his part.

In this new golden age, with the home finally getting smart, it's time to do mine. I'd like to invite everyone else to join us in the garden.

Vision conjecture: The Future of Loving Grace
Capitalism as moral good: Altruism's Alternative
White paper plan: Altruistic Alignment