I'm sure we'll be able to do something. $400 million isn't a lot of money these days. Yes, that's how much cash Siris Capital is hoping to raise. So, Frank Baker, Peter Berger, and Jeffrey Hendren need our help.
O Master, who on earth are these awful puppets of which you speak?
O my child, they are men! Frankie, Pete, and Jeff are the co-founders of Siris Capital. They exist in the world, and they genuinely need our help. Siris Capital isn't phantasmagorical nonsense dragged from the depths of my subconscious.
But that's what the punters want!
Oh, do they? Do they really? Do they want to see Frank Baker wandering in the lonely darkness of my soul, and his soul, the astral area, which we share, as we are connected? And would they be happy if Peter Berger and Jeffrey Hendren could be seen swimming in the waters ... of ... my ... eyes, an illusion, a trick of the light, or something real, it could be quite sinister?
Well ...
Let me explain a few things to you. This isn't a game for me. I have to work very hard just to keep myself under control. Shards of the rock of my consciousness could fly off. I'm always talking: 'I have no control' and so on. That's not the truth. Not the whole truth. I do struggle, that's obvious, but if I really had no control, the entire world would know about it. I would spill out beyond these words. There would be physical actions, and consequences. People would get hurt. Imagine the flesh and the blood. More than twisted names and damaged thought-forms on the plane. It would be the souls in cages, God's robots, the man and woman in the street. Carnage coming to a reality near them! City of London, urban safari, and I would be the hunter. They would be animals, my animals.
Thank God they're in America!
Who?
Frankie, Pete, and Jeff.
They have nothing to fear from me. I want to help them. They need our help, our help, our help. How many more times? $400 million is not a lot of money. We can get it. I mean, my readers can get it for us, and for the Siris guys. There will be a 10 per cent administration fee, of course.
It's only fair you make a bit. You're not a holy saint - yet.
I will have to pass 10 per cent of my end on to Big Herb, and another 10 per cent to the ghosts. I'm looking at $32 million, if it all goes to plan.
O Master, will I get a taste?
You don't need money.
I like to have it though. I find it comforting.
Whatever.
O Master, who on earth are these awful puppets of which you speak?
O my child, they are men! Frankie, Pete, and Jeff are the co-founders of Siris Capital. They exist in the world, and they genuinely need our help. Siris Capital isn't phantasmagorical nonsense dragged from the depths of my subconscious.
But that's what the punters want!
Oh, do they? Do they really? Do they want to see Frank Baker wandering in the lonely darkness of my soul, and his soul, the astral area, which we share, as we are connected? And would they be happy if Peter Berger and Jeffrey Hendren could be seen swimming in the waters ... of ... my ... eyes, an illusion, a trick of the light, or something real, it could be quite sinister?
Well ...
Let me explain a few things to you. This isn't a game for me. I have to work very hard just to keep myself under control. Shards of the rock of my consciousness could fly off. I'm always talking: 'I have no control' and so on. That's not the truth. Not the whole truth. I do struggle, that's obvious, but if I really had no control, the entire world would know about it. I would spill out beyond these words. There would be physical actions, and consequences. People would get hurt. Imagine the flesh and the blood. More than twisted names and damaged thought-forms on the plane. It would be the souls in cages, God's robots, the man and woman in the street. Carnage coming to a reality near them! City of London, urban safari, and I would be the hunter. They would be animals, my animals.
Thank God they're in America!
Who?
Frankie, Pete, and Jeff.
They have nothing to fear from me. I want to help them. They need our help, our help, our help. How many more times? $400 million is not a lot of money. We can get it. I mean, my readers can get it for us, and for the Siris guys. There will be a 10 per cent administration fee, of course.
It's only fair you make a bit. You're not a holy saint - yet.
I will have to pass 10 per cent of my end on to Big Herb, and another 10 per cent to the ghosts. I'm looking at $32 million, if it all goes to plan.
O Master, will I get a taste?
You don't need money.
I like to have it though. I find it comforting.
Whatever.
