Gift Hub

Curing These Flourishing Jerks is my Theory of Change

I am sitting around in the break room today in the asylum for Indigent Morals Tutors reading A Plutocracy Ruled By Jerks, with scientific evidence that wealth holders are at risk of moral disorders and that the body politic so ruled is no less sick.  This is helping me see why classically trained morals tutors, in the lineage of the Happy Tutor, such as myself are so important not just for America's Wealthiest Families, and to insure the preservation of Flourishing Dynasties, but also for America as a Nation and its very survival as a Republic. Supporting Moralists on the public dole in an asylum, to be ready when called upon to cure corruption in high places, and to restore our nation to sanity, is not a gift, nor some kind of transfer payment, much less an entitlement, it is an investment in the future of our country and the generations to come, for all families rich and poor alike.  You know it is my direct competitors in this racket, the Secular Priests,  who have caused, or at least connived with and enabled all this trouble. What the at risk rich need is OTK discipline starting at a young age and continuing as needed, in the best traditions of a proper Aristrocracy. Which of these self appointed secular priests has ever turned an heir, much less their patron, over his knee? What we see all around us today is the fruit of secular priests, on staff in the world's wealthiest families, or on retainer on an outsourced basis, who bring to bear no doctrine of moral obligation to the poor. Instead, it is all about sorting values cards and pandering (look whose talking! from my role, pandering is a promotion from pimping and that is a rank above a front line professional service position like mine), as if social responsibility were an optional extra in the moral haberdashery of the world's Most Fortunate Families.  I know I am being shrill. We are all jerks, really, in our own way. I am no better than a secular priest. We are all pompous asses in our own way. None of us have any self understanding. We are all blind and driven by vanity, we no less than our clients. Whatever my competitors in this noble trade have done in the name of the holy, I have done worse and for less money. I am just scared what is going to happen to me when they have to close this place, because of the budget sequester, and turn us all out. Living rough on the streets at 16  is one thing, it is quite another in old age.

The Joker Sorts His Value Cards

A few years ago, hoping to advance my career as a morals tutor on the slippery lower slopes of family wealth counselling, I sold a pint of my blood to buy a pack of Values Cards.  These are used to elicit Pappa's and Mother's values and as well as the children's and to bring the wealthy family together in common purpose, preferably Noble. Then you have them write a mission statement, then family governance constitution to run the entities the family controls throughout the world.  This grimy card is Truth. I also have dog-eared Beauty, crumpled Sincerity,  torn Self Knowledge, tatty Good Manners, spic and span Respect for Authority, bedraggled Chastity, thumbstained Discernment, and about 40 others, the worse for wear from years of playing Solitaire in the Dumpster of Broken Dreams. Now here I sit, an old man, spent in mind and spirit, shuffling the deck at a table in the small garden in back of the Sanatorium for Morals Tutors Gone Mad. With the budget sequestration cuts coming, I hear we "indigents" are slated to be turned out on the street without our meds. My next lobotomy is now on hold.  Meanwhile, in the rush of mid-town, the Secular Priests (many are recovering lawyers, therapists, trust officers, or actual defrocked priests) slide by in the back seat of the limousines whispering, "Remember Caesar thou art God." I should have seen it coming. I spent 25 years in low end sales of human services, if you want to call what we did in the scene rooms "services." We called them that. Serving professionals was the official title of our noble trade and we wore little black bowties. It is the same drill. Sell the Johns and Jills what they want to get them through the night. "Give me a penny and I will sing you a song, but give me the penny first," as Swift wrote in one of his own darker moments, as a real priest run mad in the court of Queen Anne.  So the world wags on, as it always has. If only I had had more sense as a younger man. I could have risen to run the pick and pack room chill room in Wealth Bondage, if I had kept my mouth shut and done what I was told by my immediate superior. But then I started reading literature, between shifts, and then on the job, and the rest was one straight slide to poverty and madness.  I should have bought a Tarot Deck, or regular playing cards. Here are your values, Bigshot, go fish!

Women's Pyramidal Giving Systems

"We support the circle by sharing the experiences of the gift of support, the gift of sharing, of feeling valued and appreciated and celebrating with each other as each of our group receives their gifts." - rhetoric cited and dissected in Pryamid Clubs. Via, tm in comment to an earlier post.  See also.

The Perpetual Dynasty

In Hades Ixion rolls his wheel, Sisyphus his rock, and and Tantalus bends his head towards the endlessly receding water. So we here sort values cards, endlessly seeking the Ace that is not there.  Actually, I have no idea what hapens in Hell, yet. But here in the madhouse it seems that way as I watch Fortunate Families and their Trusted Advisors play the Values Card Game.  "My greatest value is Truth," one exclaims. Mine is Beauty, says another. Look says a third, I got Ethics! Sin and Death are the only two cards left in my deck. the others I have long since betrayed. But after the procedure on Wednesay, I may have a better attitude.  Then I can pass on Sin and Death to my heirs. The Kingdom of the one I follow is Eternal.    

The Symptom Bearer

Therapist says that blogging about philanthropy is not good for my mental health.  She said it has caused psychic splitting. I apparently identify with fabulously wealthy people even though I have no money and they do not identify with me, except as a servant or useful tool, and seldom even that. I guess that is why so many of my fellow patients here are Trusted Advisors too. But it is like this big family system. We Serving Professionals to Great Families on the inside are the designated patients, or identified patients (IP), but who is to say who is really sick? If we advisors get better maybe our Flourishing Family Clients will go nuts? The symptoms will migrate. It is how scapegoats used to be burned at the crossroads to heal a sick land. Those are the kind of thoughts Therapist says I have to fix or I will have to stay here and get more intensive treatment. If I thought it would cure my fellow advisors and their clients, I would gladly have my entire brain extracted.

I'm scared

What if Tutor returns and I disappear? Then I will never get out of here.

Hi, it's me

While I am in treatment, I did  ask The Happy Tutor to use my blog to keep you all up to date on my progress from success to significance through the dark wood to Grandma's house, or whatever trip I am on.  I am not Tutor and he does not speak for me. Therapist says he is not real; he is just my alter ego. (Is that Altar Ego?) I speak at Gifthub as the official philanthropy and social impact spokersperson for Wealth Bondage. He does not. He was fired a long time ago for insubordination. He never was a team player. His posts recently are at Gifthub, but are not official Gifthub posts. They are just for the time being. OK? His return is a large part of the reason I am here. So, I can promise you, when I return he will disappear. (It's just me.)

Phil resumes posting under own name

I see that Zuckerberg has an internet org to help the world. This is my blog and this is my post (Phil Cubeta).  I am allowed internet access today on a provional basis, under supervision, for 15 minutes journaling as part of my therapy. Thank you all for the cards and letters. I am feeling much more normal now. I am unable to provide moral tutorials until further notice, but I know many highly qualified people here and can make a referral, if your need is urgent.  I am Phil and I wrote this post. If you agree with me that this post is normal, please let Therapist know, so she can write in her notebook. I miss you all!

Phil's ordination is on Sunday after the Ballgame

To keep you all up to date, I asked Phil during visitation hours at the Sanatorium whether he was returning to sanity. He said, "Be advised, I am returning to sanctity, Tutor." He says he is scheduled next Sunday to to be ordained in a mass service by the Bishop of  Wealth Bondage as a secular priest, along with everyone else in the Asylum, after the Phillies game on the television in the game room. It is sad when madness goes viral like this, particularly when the people involved are critical to the financial success and ongoing flourishing of our leading families. Quarantine may be our best hope until this contagion passes.

Best regards,

The Happy Tutor, Dungeon Master to the Stars in Wealth Bondage

Blogger pro tem, pending Phil Cubeta's release from the Asylum for Senior Advisors to Wealth

I am not Phil Cubeta, obviously

Excuse me everybody! But this is getting ridiculous.  Now some of the wordly wise who think it makes them look smart to be so sceptical are asking if I am really Phil Cubeta under some kind of alias, persona, mask, pseud, or assumed name. Some have gone as far as to suggest that I am Phil run mad, some kind of wierd Jeckyll personality split of from the urbane Dr. Hyde. I can assure you that everything here is exactly as it seems, just like real life. Everything is what it is and not an other thing, as Bishop Joeseph Butler stated correctly hundreds of years ago.  When you lose sight of that you really will lose your mind. Trust me. I have been there. And it is a long road back, if you ever get there at all.

Wish me luck,

The Happy Tutor, Dungeon Master to the Stars in Wealth Bondage.

Blogger pro tem, pending the return to sanity of our paid spokesperson, Phil Cubeta