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Achieving Limitless Affluence on the

Playground of Ordered Possibilities


Copyright © 2018 Martin Tabat

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To all who have given up on Everything,

embrace Nothing,

and have become One with the Universe.

Infancy, our natural state, was overflowing with Effluent and bounded by limitedness and want. We need simply to divest ourselves of Everything to once again reclaim our birthright to Nothing.





Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4



The history of religion is replete with charlatans, messiahs, false prophets, and snake oil peddlers who dazzle the naïve masses by spouting nonsense with authority. The more ridiculous their phony claims, the louder and more exaggerated they become. Their pontifications fall like manna from heaven over enthusiastic mobs clamoring for spiritual sustenance in their dismal lives.

These metaphysical swindlers, despite the many academic abbreviations before or after their names, do not preach selflessly, but selfishly. Their intent is never to enlighten and release the disciple from the nest of a narrow, parochial worldview—as a parent bird drives its fledglings out to test their intellectual wings in a forest of manmade dangers and distractions—but to expand the nest to encompass ever more wing-clipped acolytes chirping for another wormy piece of nonnutritive, semi-intellectual gruel.

The answers to life’s Questions are never presented with finality. The finish line is always moving and out of reach, just one more pronouncement away. Enlightenment is a process, a path one must continuously follow. And, of course, the deceitful guru is the only one who can illuminate the dark and mysterious path…as long as the student buys the next book or attends the next seminar—you don’t want to trip over a missed step.

It is rare, indeed, that the infinitesimal tick of one’s short life should coincide with the tock of a true sensei. My life, and this book, is the proof of that providential coincidence. I have had the incomparable honor and distinction to accompany the preeminent Dr. Popache on his travels for six glorious months. I was blessed with the singular assignment to faithfully record and publish the great man’s teachings. What follows is the only authorized document recounting his speeches to the masses and his personal musings during our one-on-one conversations.

Dr. Popache is not one of the rabble of false teachers elbowing to be first among the lot. In fact, he prefers to be the lesser of all and lead from behind. He refuses accolades, abhors the spotlight of publicity, and rejects becoming another social-media sensation. He prefers that his words are shared personally—eye to eye instead of electronically, i.e., pixel to pixel.

His confidence in his message—rather than the number of his social media followers or the size of his bank accounts—has endeared all, including myself, to his company. I never once heard him raise his voice in all our time together.

While I recorded for posterity the genius’s teachings in the pages to come, I feel it my responsibility to relate my personal impressions and illuminations from my time bathing in the warm glow of The One Who Will Never Be Equaled in Spirit or Intellect.

At first, I was one of the skeptical: Popache is just another fraud, I thought. A deceiver disguised in holy cloth, a fiendish wolf hiding fangs behind a delicate turn of phrase. But slowly, by his gentle touch (which I shamefully admit I first recoiled from) and from his nonjudgmental gaze, the once sturdy, protective walls I had built around my heart and mind—my bulwark against the modern world, constructed from the clay of suspicion, cynicism, and bigotry—slowly began to melt and dissolve under the warm, forgiving rain of his philosophy.

The doctor is a simple, nondescript man of average height and build. At sixty-three years old, his dirty blond hair is thinning. Gray strands dapple his eyebrows and color his temples. The corners of his mouth twitch as he talks, sometimes curling into a playful smirk, other times turning down and adding gravity to his words. If one happened to stand next to him at a bus stop or pass him in the aisle of a local grocery store, none would suspect the infinitely sublime intellect residing within that very ordinary human vessel. Yes, everything about Dr. Popache’s appearance is perfectly unremarkable—except for his eyes.

It took me many weeks to train my eyes to stop diverting from his gaze. Initially, I used my writing pad as an excuse to look away. On walks, I pretended to be distracted by a bird call or the sun coruscating through the breeze-fluttered forest canopy. Imagine trying to focus your vision on a cloudless summer sky. Dr. Popache’s eyes are that blue and that deep. It is disconcerting, at first, to look into eyes that are focused on some plane in front of you—while examining the very heart of your soul and staring at something in the far distance behind you—all at the same time.

I pronounce, as a former skeptic-turned-believer, that Sensei Popache has been to the mountaintop and held audience with the sun from its rising until its setting. He has descended to the deepest gorge and discussed the meaning of time and space with the tiniest, tattling brook.

What better form of Understanding of our world than the Knowledge of the liquid that lives in our air as vapor, becomes fog and clouds as it condenses, rains down on the rich and the poor, carves the landscape via fast-flowing rivers, and splits mountains in two when it freezes in cracks and crevices? Water’s singular master is the sun. A hot solar stare will make water evaporate. Hiding its face will make the vapor condense into rain.

Water exists in all things, plant and animal, and tickles elements and minerals from inanimate stone through its light caress. By its nature, water is polar, thus electric and magnetic. It conducts the impulses that spark our imagination and generates the lightning of earthly storms.

Einstein believed that the laws of physics must be the same everywhere in the Universe. Thus, a true, rich, and deep understanding of the actions of single molecule on Earth makes the entire Universe as easy to comprehend as a child’s picture book. All things on Earth are interconnected by the action of water and its disciplinarian, the sun. Dr. Popache’s unfettered communion with this interaction allows him to link a raindrop on Earth to an ice crystal in the most remote recess of the Universe.

The greatest seer of all time, Bleen, once famously said, “Nothing does not play Pinochle with the Universe. Maybe that’s why the Universe feels so alone. Or, perhaps, Nothing is afraid it will lose.”

But my words are fluff and stuff, destined to disintegrate into nothing while the words of the most eminent Ekard Popache will live alongside the words of Bleen until the end of time.

Let’s listen to the teacher.

M. D. Tabat


A long time ago, on a planet far away, a young student questioned its Bleen mentor: “As you have taught me, unrestricted Effluence will generate limitless Affluence. With unlimited Affluence, I could comfort the unfortunate, direct their unbounded gratefulness to Bleen almighty, and convert even more of my fellows to its teachings. I beg you to share your secret so that I may become as immensely Effluent as you.”

Reclining on a plush divan in the heart of an opulent mansion, the mentor flicked his hand and yawned. “Affluence is an unbearable burden and should be avoided as the most dismal affliction to befall any being. I have sacrificed my life and soul to bear this torture in order to relay that fact to the faithful followers of Bleen.

“The state of Effluence is the goal. Let flow from your stores all of your acquired spiritual, intellectual, and material sums. But without direction or drain to accept that river of stuff, it shall pile up at your door and drown you.

“Consider me your drain, your sewer. I humbly accept my personal damnation under the flood of your Effluent in order to enable your salvation. Steer your Effluence toward me and encourage everyone you meet to do the same and I can guarantee your salvation in the sight of Bleen.

The mentor folded his soft, pink hands over his thick waist. His eyes rolled to the ceiling and began his lesson. “There is a story of a travelling salesman and two Goddesses. It starts when the salesman’s car breaks down in front of a farm house. Two Goddesses answer the door. One was in charge of Wisdom and her name was Shurishtashmarti. The other was in charge of Money and her name was Luckshminame.

“Well, when the salesman was noodling with Shurishta, he knew every secret of the Universe. But as Luckshmi stomped around in a huff trying to get her turn, his bank account dwindled. When he picked up on Luckshmi, his riches grew exponentially, but his mind became duller than a box of Shishishishtarian rocks.

“As a below-average salesman, he had never known the slightest wealth or even average intelligence. But now, with a taste of each, he was determined to retain both.”

“Did he succeed, master?”

“Of course. He used a bit of his expanded smarts to convince both Goddesses to have a threesome. Then, before they knew what happened, he bolted out the door, pants around his ankles, and tossed a bomb back on the house. That salesman became the richest and smartest person in the galaxy.”

“Is there a moral to the story, O Insightful One?”

“The moral of the story is, ‘Chasing Knowledge without a dime to invest is just as much wasted effort as having Wealth without the smarts to know how best to use it.’ So to achieve true happiness, strive to be poor and dumb or rich and smart, but don’t settle for anything in between.”

The student closed his eyes and meditated quietly on the teacher’s words.

“Oh, and another thing,” the teacher said. “If you come across a couple of Goddesses in a farmhouse, thank Bleen and go for it. After all, you don’t get many chances to fool around with one Goddess, much less two.”

And now let us recall the sublime Ninth of the Nine Nuisances of Bleen.

Success is a fickle mistress. No matter how hard you strive, struggle, or persevere to seduce her, she will often prefer to bestow her gifts on your lazy brother-in-law instead.


Countless insightful and sublime thoughts pop into my consciousness like fart bubbles in my bath. None, however, have been deemed profound enough for a bumper sticker.”

Ancient Utaalk Saying


Effluence is Everything

Effluence is the personal experience that occurs when all of our unfulfilled needs, unmet desires, and dank, dusty, and puerile wishes are released from our fanciful imaginations and evaporate into Nothing.

When we reject Everything and let it all flow away, we experience unending revitalization and euphoria. Effluence is the real effort of shedding the Effluent of Everything.

Effluence is the personal spiritual and conscious action by which we realize our connection to the reality of Nothing and the unreality—or, more correctly, the negative reality—of Everything.

The Everything of the Universe began as Nothing, and Nothing still contains the Universe. To become Nothing is to become part of something even larger than the Universe.

Nothing is the only reality. No other reality is as real as Nothing.

And here, to assist the novice in appreciating the reality of Everything and Nothing, I sing the 652nd verse of the Song of Bleen.

Truth and Untruth,

Fact and Fiction,

Are Nothing and Everything.

Truth and Fact are Nothing.

Untruth and Fiction are Everything.

Nothing is singular. Everything is plural.

There is only one Nothing; Everything is all the rest.

Nothing will make you sane; Everything will drive you mad.

When we have settled into an understanding of the sublime nature of Nothing, then we attain a rich understanding of Creation and our place in the Universe. But if we cling to the apparently-real-but-ultimately-false notion that we are really part of Everything, then we risk losing ourselves.

Bleen clarifies this point in the illuminating First of the Eight Errors.

Your lives, your thoughts, your relationships, from this moment to the next, are simply the representation of infinitesimal and random collisions of atoms and molecules that have not the slightest interest or concern for your situation—the little bastards.

Everything uses the same atoms to create a star, a person, a belch, or an idea. All of those despicable atoms, torturing our senses day and night, remind us that there is absolutely no way to fulfill our tiniest need or desire through any of our willful actions.

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