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---- Faini, Vincent D. Faini, Christianity, Conversations with Neo, Adventures in Marine Biology, Most People Talk Bullshit: One Primates Search For Intelligent Life, Phoenix Michaels, Touch of the Beast: Brent Fletcher, Requiem for a Midlife Crisis --- --

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“On the debris of our despair we build our character.” --- Emerson

I am telling my story for the purpose of achieving personal redemption, to cleanse the horrors I have endured and the evil I have done. Like most people, my life has been unremarkable for the most part. I have had lived through both good times and bad times.

In many ways however, my life has been unusual and eclectic. I have experienced the wonders of mystical states, the rapture of love, the power of compassion and empathy for humankind. I have enjoyed the pleasure of walking with nature, and those rare instances of joy when I have worked in unison with other people towards a common and noble goal.

I have also experienced from my earliest childhood till the present, a life filled with dysfunction and unnecessary suffering. The bad parts of my life have been a hodgepodge of pain and sharp regrets. From the earliest years I have seen or experienced spousal abuse, divorce, parental neglect, inadequate education and ignorance, the violence of assault, poverty, sexual abuse, child abuse, starvation, homelessness, pissed off creditors, sexual deviance, adultery, infidelity, addictions, the temptation of drugs and drug abuse, disability and disease – the downfall or death of many friends and close relatives that had suffered from one or more of these social maladies. Most of these maladies had almost taken me down permanently. I have endured all of the painful emotions that accompany the social maladies that I have listed; such as: fear, depression, aloneness, guilt, paranoia, anger and rage.

I have sometimes suffered the usual feelings that come from such a life, such as: self-loathing, unworthiness and a wide medley of insecurities.

All in all… a type of life too many people endure. Overall, despite all of the bad times, I had fared pretty well with no more than the usual generic insecurities and dysfunction, which a lot of people suffer. To my credit, those negative aspects of my personality were not the cause of suffering for others – no, my problems were minor burdens for me. Until fourteen years ago, my innate optimism and zest for life had saved my life from any bitterness of upbringing that some people would have insisted to marinate in.

Thankfully, my positive qualities had served me well.

Ironically, it was the routinely accepted features of both the people we know, the communities we live in, and the public bureaucracies that are supposedly set up to serve us, that had been my undoing. Yes, it was with the commonplace; that I have witnessed the dysfunction of many organized social contagions generally accepted by society as normal.

I was buggered by the banal. Fourteen years ago my descent into madness began. I tumbled down a path of despair, disability, extraordinary mental and physical suffering caused by an assemblage of misfortune and the evil intentional misuse of power by a handful of people. These people cowardly hid behind the insulation of a mindless bureaucracy and the United States Justice Department. They conspired to methodically disassemble the lives of a handful of common citizens –loving people who believed in the American dream and justice for all –they purposely broke the law for their own personal satisfaction.

I was one of those people. Several of my friends and coworkers were also naïve’ victims by people and a system gone mad. My journey before the fall began from the light; from happiness and a productive life – where I have experience the mystical, the meta-physical and then spiraled into hell – to a place of hatred, insanity occasionally peppered by fits of psychosis.

Because I was purposely forced into disability and homelessness, deliberately driven insane. I burned with hate and yearned for vengeance, thereby obsessively seeking the destruction of roughly two-dozen people. My pain, my insanity drove me to unspeakable evil, led me to shameful transgressions.

Regardless of my sins and what I had hoped to achieve –what I would certainly have achieved – that is if a swat team had failed to take me down; it is certain that I would not have survived both emotionally and physically beyond another year or two.

The fact that I am telling my story is a testimonial that I had managed to survive. Perhaps it was divine providence…perhaps it was pure dumb luck. I owe the fact that in the last of my dark years…I managed to hold on to the few shreds of humanity because of a handful of loving friends. They knew of my surface problems, but even they were not aware of how far I had bottomed out. These handful of people I had purposely kept my distance from during the bad times for a variety of reasons. Some of them simply would not have been able to help in the manner that I really needed; some of them were overly burdened with their own sorrows and problems, I did not dare add mine to their plate. A few of them were in my estimation at the time involved in shaky endeavors or they were involved with loved ones that were involved with such things and I was loathed to even contact them for fear that the F.B.I. or the Justice Department would take them down in the wake of their investigation on me. Nevertheless, it was my knowledge of their love and support of me that helped me to hang on by my fingernails. I owe a lot to my mother, my stepfather Jay, and many other assorted relatives, John Aberant, Paul Harclerode, Brian Anderson, John Mullen, Marybeth Reagan, Debbie Pansire, Jon and Chris Lynch and their mother, Kevin Lipps, Dr. Ron Lechnyr, Dr. Randall Lorenz, Jim Schmolke.

To Larry and Jule Cherosky for allowing me to crash on their floor and use their shower when my garage and Gym shower was not was not convenient to use, and special thanks to my good friend Phoenix who has been and continues to be a strong positive influence in my life.

Most of all, I owe my life and my recovery back to the light from a friend that I had met almost twenty-five years ago.

It was then that I nicknamed him Neo. (Not to be associated with the character in the now popular cult-film of The Matrix).

The fact that I gave him this name is totally coincidental, unrelated and is; in-of-itself another story.

Neo is a remarkable man –a type of person that I wish I had as a father or a mentor when I was growing up. Without him, I would be dead, and perhaps more than a handful of people also.

Without going into too much detail, He helped me to take on the task of examining everything in my life, both the good and the bad. He made me realize that there are certain themes that are threaded throughout anyone’s life; threads that converge to form a type of tapestry with specific patterns of both high functioning and dysfunction, with regard as to how we deal with the both the exterior world and our interior psychological terrain.

To facilitate my healing, I had to sequester myself for a very long period of time, often retreating into wilderness areas for a type of intensive spiritual boot camp. It was during my self-exile, that I used many techniques of recovery, some of which I learned growing up, some that Dr. Lecnyr had taught me; and other less known methods of which Neo had showed me. These techniques were used to detoxify my body and mind from the physical and emotion poisons that I had accumulated during my life.

I had to do a type of scandisk and then a defragging of my bio-computer, to reorganize my mind and emotions, to prepare myself for my new mission in life. This mission was to strip my psych clean of all illusions both good and bad. Illusions that I created myself and the ones installed in me from society; some of these illusions were mechanisms I created because of my needs, and the illusions that other people, friends, family, lovers, and coworkers built to control me as they use them to control most people in their sphere of influence.

To accomplish these tasks, I had to use specific meditative techniques along with hypnosis so that I could adequately regress back to my earliest memories.

To try and remember and draw out everything and then recapitulate all the incidents of the external world and my interior self which affected me profoundly. It was with this method that I would be re-experiencing the good and the bad of my life: and then make assessments with both my inner-child and logical, compassionate adult mind.

Neo taught me that it was not enough to simply meditate, regress, and remember the important parts of my life; no, it was much more difficult than that –I had to painstakingly write down all of these memories and then go over them in aching detail. I learned that I had to give words to any mindless emotions of my memories of experiences. I had to think and feel appropriate thoughts and emotions to words I had assigned.

For me, this has been extraordinarily brutal. It was painful to relive many of the experiences of my life and was made more difficult because I lacked the basic skills of writing.

Regrettably I suffer from many holes in my educations and perhaps even my intelligence. My initial skill level of writing was much like an ape. My writing was, “Yo!” “Shit, shit”. “Yo, yo”. “Fuck.” “Hey dude”.

Then I learned to string two or three monosyllable words together and form simple sentences. “Hi, how are you?” “I am fine.” “The weather is fine.” “How is Aunt Lucy?”

Within a short time, I learned to string together a few polysyllable words and even combined two separate and discrete thoughts in one sentence. “The rain in Spain; falls mainly on the plain.” From there I learned to string sentences together in paragraphs, but at this stage anyone could see that by nature I am a non-linear thinker. Initially, while I struggled to recover from mental illness and minor brain damage, you could see in my writing that my thoughts rambled and my syntax looked as though Yodi, an Amish man, and a mentally deranged person was conspiring to write down my memories.

After years of struggling, I hope that I have finally learned to write adequately.

During my story, you will notice – as many of my friends and relatives have noticed – that both the flavor and skill level throughout the book varies. I think there are several reasons for this. The first reason is that when I started recapitulating with my first memory, my skill level at writing was far less than it is now; also, when I regressed back to my earliest memory, there was the tendency to color my writing with the emotional and mental development I had at the time of specific memories. Obviously, some of those memories were also tainted from the proficiency of adulthood during the time of writing… there was no escaping this.

Some experiences lend themselves to different flavors of thought and therefore the flavor, cadence and content of both the memory and the writing is different.

Different memories have different emotional impact; some are light-hearted others are dark, bizarre and dysfunctional.

I have found that some of my friends tended to enjoy the writing of the light and whimsical stuff, while ironically, some people tend to like the way the diseased and deviant parts of my life reads.

I think that also, sometimes when I was writing, I was either inspired, or lazy and tired. Anyway, it has all been part of the process.

My second toughest task is how best to present my life to the public...and let me tell you why.

My story below as described on the cover is a quasi-pseudo-fictitious autobiography. The reason why I call it this is manifold. Initially I wrote this book with the intent to tell the world of the tragedy and travesty of both our legal system and personal social system that have destroyed the lives of several people... some quite literally. Because of the intentional harm that a handful of government managers had committed on me and my coworkers and because of the betrayal, neglect and apathy of our coworkers and Union,

I felt that this story begged to be told. It needs to be told so that I can reach closure. So what has happened to me, to a few of my friends; may be avoided by others.

I initially wrote this book because I wanted desperately to put many people and their past sins in the public light.

I wanted to see them rightfully humiliated and shamed. I wanted to see them stoned. There was a time that I wanted to see them crippled and killed and I wanted to be the one to do this to them.

I no longer want to shame or humiliate them. I had to step back and decide what is the most important thing that I want to accomplish. My main objective now, is spill out my whole story…the whole truth, so that other people will not suffer as we had suffered, so that other people will not be in danger of losing their lives. So that other people will not lose the ability to provide for themselves and their families. So that other people will not descend into the pits of spiritual hell and the bleak torment of madness that I had suffered and battled for years.

I am faced with the necessity of telling the truth, especially the fact of baring my sins, bringing out all of my current and past skeletons. There is the temptation for most people who write about themselves, to write a vainglorious account of a perfect and noble life. In truth my life, just like me is anything but glorious, perfect and noble.

Once I had admitted this to myself, the next temptation is to write a bland vanilla version of my life – a kind of Jack Web’s “just the facts, Ma’am” account minus both the less than noble stuff or the heroic and noble or noteworthy stuff that almost all of us can draw upon ones experience in our lives. This of course would be a slanted view of a life –truth mixed in with lies. Lies by omission, but lies nonetheless. For someone like me, there is also the tendency to want to be politically correct.

Meaning to water down the language actually used, to minimize the baser not so nice or godlike aspects of us, to spare the tender sensitivities of many of the ersatz souls out there.

With all that I want to achieve, I am faced with the difficult task of how can I write the truth. How can I confront the people and organizations that need to be confronted both publicly and privately without hurting anyone; or at least keep their pain and humiliation to a minimum?

I have chosen to take this tack…not because of legal considerations of being charged with slander or libel; I have so much documentation of video and audio interviews and legal documents that even if I was to divulge the true names of all of the characters in this book, I could easily back myself up in a court of law.

To get my point across and to have any hope of achieving my political agendas, I must tell the truth.

First I had to start off with being honest to my self and truthful about myself. This means, I had to be absolutely ruthless and unsparing of all of my transgressions, my flaws, my less than noble behaviors, even the dysfunctional and deviant aspects of my life and personality.

For the most important purposes of my agenda, I had the dual task of applying the same criteria to all the important events of my life, be they negative or positive and to the people in my life that have played a part in my journey.

To accomplish this task many of the characters in this book have been created from a compilation of two or more people, and some of the characters describe are actually only one segment or facet of a particular person in my life.

For instances a person in my actual life may have so many different and incongruent facets to their personalities that in this book two or more characters may represent them.

In addition, I have also included the life stories of a person that I have named Vincent Lazarus Chimera. (I choose this name and anyone familiar with biblical stories and Greek Mythology will understand the implications I am trying to get across). He is a real person whose real name is of course not Chimera, but who coincidently also went to Upper Merion High School just as I had, joined the military, moved to Oregon and also worked for a Federal Agency of which I will not name. He and I are approximately one or two years apart in age. He also is one of the few people in my circle of friends that also knows Neo and by the nickname I gave him years ago.

The character Vincent Lazarus Chimera represents much of what he and I have experienced in our own lives. Some things written in the book he has experienced and I had not; while other events I have experienced and he has not. More than a few we have both experienced one time or another.

Since we are roughly the same age and our lives do coincidently coincide the timeline of events that we share is mostly accurate and the events are certainly accurate.

His life story parallels mine (and many peoples) in many ways. He has also suffered from and observed many of the dysfunctions of which I and too many other people have also suffered.

It is because that many of the dysfunctions and stories listed and described throughout this book are so common place as to be accepted with almost a bored resignation by most humans that I am also compelled to write this book with the permission and encouragement of the guy I will call Lazarus.

It is our hope that our story conveys our frustration with the apparent lack of intelligence of the human primate as both individuals and a race as a whole; and the willingness for humans to bullshit each other and themselves for a variety of reasons that does not serve anything healthy or logical.

Throughout this book, not only will I be outlining the struggle for the character Chimera in his quest for intelligence while navigating through the bullshit and endeavoring to develop his own sovereign sentience; but also I outline from both memory and historical archives the appalling lack of intelligence utilized by our species as we create one cluster-fuck after another… threatening our very survival as a species. This appalling lack of intelligence continues to this day by evidence that much of the evil humans create today is the same fare we saw growing up.

Evidently, the human primate is incapable of learning from history.

This book is not intended to depress you with the obvious facts of our evil and dysfunction, but, also to share with you that we are also capable of both good and higher noble purposes. It is my belief that we are capable as individuals and as a collective the ability to transcend our normal reactive protocols, to evolve towards higher functionality and to merge mystically with God, our Creator, or the Force, or whatever name that suits your tastes; a message that Jesus and many of the greatest spiritual teachers throughout history have tried to teach.

This is what I also try to impart with the various stories described throughout the book. However, I must warn the reader that to achieve our higher-end potential, we have to pay a price. We have to give up fear, self-loathing, hatred, jealousy… the entire medley of negative traits that hold us back as individuals and as a collective species.

I would even go as far as to say that our very survival as a race requires that we accomplish this task collectively.

Many of you will know doubt ask or wonder why I have written this book in such a divisive manner; using Chimera as representation of both my mystery friend and me, while also compiling true people into one or two characters or diluting individuals into two or more characters.

The answer is simple. As I have already mentioned, we do not want to humiliate anyone that are or have been in our lives. This allows everyone the benefit of plausible denial. The people in real life who may be recognized as the characters or a facet of a character within this book can claim that it was my mystery friend Chimera’s experience and not mine or vice versa. (Although more than a few instances real people in both our lives are being described).

I decided to write this book using a certain recipe.

Basically the recipe for this quasi-pseudo-fictitious autobiography is ninety percent unadulterated fact, 3.33 percent name changes, a dash of 3.33 percent fancy, and another dash of 3.33 percent you will have to figure it out for yourself.

To help you make your own decisions, on what is what. I recommend that you go to the back of the book and see the list of my statements and assertions that have been examined and confirmed by a professional polygraph examiner.

I hope that reading this book will allow you to learn the lessons that I have so painfully learned.

Special acknowledgments to: my editors, writing mentors, and friends, Brent Fletcher, Phoenix, Eric Bisbocci, Celina Hicks, Roy Stover, Jim Schmolke, Tim Bloch and Lindsey Stallone.

“There is only one thing that I dread: not to be worthy of my sufferings” --- Dostoevski

A very special acknowledgment, apology and thanks to my friend and mentor Neo

This is not his real name of course, and the fact is… I really do not know his real name. That is because he liked to live off the grid and suffers from an obsessive need for privacy. Even when he often worked at different jobs… because he loves to learn new things; and it was at these many jobs that he would use aliases. According to him, he was born in Australia, and then became a citizen of the United States. Because of my affection for him, I feel the necessity to point out that Neo did not use aliases to defraud the government out of taxes, (He showed me his pay-stubs to prove that he paid the maximum taxes required by law up front, since he believes strongly that all citizens should pay their fair-share). He has demonstrated the type of character and integrity that pretty much rules out that he is wanted by any law-enforcement agency. I just have to take him at his word that he prefers to move on and off the grid of society at his convenience.

Sixteen years after I nicknamed him Neo Americano (This is another story in-of-itself and I would be interested to see how many people could guess as to why I gave him his first and last name), the movie The Matrix came out. Of course I had a field day with new ways I could rib him. Before the movie he would say he liked to move on and off the grid. After the movie, I like to mention perhaps he liked to move in and out of the Matrix. With him I abused the theme of the movie to the point of his nausea... especially his.

After he saved my life and helped me to start my road to redemption, I was so thankful for his help, his mentoring and the many life lessons he taught me; that I wanted to honor Neo by acknowledging him. I wanted to tell the world of what a remarkable person he is. He gave me permission to write about him, since I would be using his nickname and because their is no danger that anyone would find out his true or original legal identity. When I put him in many of my writings, I shared these writings with a handful of my friends because I needed their help and advise to correct my grammar.

Needless to say, because of the many amazing things that I have recounted about Neo, my friends were more than just a little curious as to whom in the community he was. My ex-fiancé’ and a few of my friends has actually been introduced to him, (Not by his nickname), and because of my writings some of them think they know of whom I speak. They have actually approached a few people and asked, “Are you the Neo that Vinny is writing about?” Or “Did you really do such and such amazing thing that Vinny told us?” Neo became very angry with me for talking about him.

The original deal was that I would only write about him and then refuse to make any reference to him outside of my writings.

He made me swear an oath and I failed him. I just couldn’t help it. When my friends asked dozens of questions, things just slipped out. As I said, Neo is a very private person, and hates any attention towards him and at times, he has trouble tolerating the company of most people. Since he rarely invites people to his place and since most people only know of him what he wants to show; he is able to leave the company of people that drain him without the inconvenience of bothersome phone calls or visits from people requiring his energy or time.

When I failed him, I almost ruined his carefully constructed persona that he holds in our community. Because of this, he instructed me that I was not to write anything about him in any manner. I begged and pleaded, because the life lessons I learned from him are of great value to me, and I believe they can be helpful to other people. Since I am the type of writer that has trouble relating things that I have not experienced, seen, or heard of others, I had no idea how I could write my story without telling about his and my interactions.

After much pleading, Neo capitulated to allow me to talk about him, but only if I agreed to two items. First off, he asked me that if my story ever sold that I would give twenty-five percent of the proceeds to charity.

I readily also vowed that I would give an additional twenty-five percent of the proceeds making this a total of fifty percent. He also stipulated that I must allow him put me in a deep hypnotic state. He wanted to put me in such a state and cued my mind that it would be impossible to talk about him what-so-ever outside of my writings. In fact, if I was questioned by anyone, I could not write the answers to the person questioning me. Our story comes through my writing at times when I need to tell a life lesson that he taught me or other people.

Since the hypnotic trance, I actually have a type of aphasia that will not allow me to mention anything about him out loud, even in an empty room or alone in the wilderness.

It is due to my newly acquire aphasia that some of my friends now believe that Neo is a figment of my imagination, and I must say this makes me less stressed and Neo very happy. A few of my friends however, still are trying to dig around, because they remember the many times that I had been secretive as to who I was visiting or where I was going… even years before my descent into madness and even before I started stalking people.

So regardless of the constraints put upon me, I just want to say, “Thanks Neo! Thank you for being my friend and mentor. Thank you for saving my life and helping me on my quest towards redemption for my sins.

Tonight I was going to go Postal… and there would be no turning back.

Neo Clenched his teeth, and in a spot on Clint Eastwood imitation he whispers, “If there was a lot more love in the world, it seems to me there would be a lot less dying.”