Flightless Aquatic Bird Publications is an old-fashioned family business. One cherishing an unquestionably trustworthy old-fashioned family history. Envisioned a long time ago by a visionary (a man, of course)*, the story of Flightless Aquatic Bird Publications is the story of this one great man and his visionary vision.
After gestating in the womb for sixteen months, The Supreme Founder was born during a solar eclipse on a mountain top under a triple rainbow as two shooting stars passed overhead. It was a cosmic event never to be repeated. And one the ancients said signified a new age of enlightenment. Many men travelled from lands near and far to see the newborn king. All of them wishing to kiss his angelic baby feet in order to be blessed with the gift of divine knowledge.
Eyewitness accounts from impartial devotees describe The Supreme Founder as a wunderbaby. All testifying that he had broken in and ridden a horse before he could walk (walking an act he mastered an hour after his birth). A further twenty-four hours after his birth, he spoke eleven languages and, in his first attempt on an official pro golf course, hit eighteen holes in one. A sporting achievement never to be repeated.
The Supreme Founder wasn’t just privileged with talent. He also lived a privileged white upbringing because of his family’s vast white fortune. But this came at a cost. His parents, determined to shield their son from the ugliness of life, kept him confined within the walls of their vast estate. Nevertheless, The Supreme Founder’s childhood was filled with unmolested joy. As a curious child, he would gleefully brandish the imported labour via a blistering branding iron. There, his love of the printing press blossomed.
An ample weekly allowance from the family estate had afforded him the time to lead a decadent lifestyle. By the time he was a young man, he had grown weary of most worldly pleasures. Extreme self indulgence dulling every sensitive organ on his body. It made him ponder if there was more to life? He yearned to see what lay outside his pleasure prison. So one day, disguised as a beggar, he snuck out of the palace and explored the city streets. While exploring, he encountered three aspects of life: the old, the sick, and the dead. All embodied within an old sick prostitute he met. Despite lacking the comforts The Supreme Founder enjoyed, the prostitute’s eyes shone with contentment. This puzzled him. How could she suffer yet be so happy? It was an attitude that would make anyone jealous. But before she could pass on her wisdom, she died mysteriously in his clutches.
The experience was troubling. It made him question the fragile nature of life. It made him fascinated in the human condition. It felt like a divine force was advising him to flee around the globe. To make a new start and find answers. The night before setting sail, the cream of society threw a celebration in his honour at one of Chinatown’s finest opium dens. However, he was hesitant. Chiefly due to the hook-nosed elites who controlled the media. At the time, they ran fierce propaganda campaigns which railed against the ‘Chinese corrupting poison’. But he was too clever to be brainwashed. So, he sampled some opium. Breaking bread with Mongolian marauders, sharing spirits with Siberian shaman, swapping stories under starlit skies with Bohemian Bedouins, all adventures he experienced while burning the midnight oil.
This experience shifted his consciousness. He now felt god dissuading him from traveling the world and instead persuading him to travel the internal world of his psyche. God was asking for humility. For The Supreme Founder to follow his guiding gift. So he surrendered to that divine feeling in his aching stomach. He knew that his opium studies would require complete dedication. But soothing an addiction to knowledge was worth any price for a science junkie.
It was in those three years studying himself in that opium den that two momentous revelations occurred.
The first revelation: we are not alone.
Deep in that den, The Supreme Founder spoke with a supernatural being. A spirit named Globnok. Globnok hailed from an advanced, lost, prehistoric civilisation known as Atlantis. The Atlanteans were a wise race that had inhabited the earth. They had sent Globnok, their chief high priest, to tell The Supreme Founder he descended from one of the twelve families of Atlantis and was the saviour of mankind. As a descendant of skilled storytellers, The Supreme Founder, through his inherited gift with languages, could spread to the masses the word of Atlantean knowledge and wisdom. Mankind’s only hope for salvation. Globnok foretold of high-speed internet access, affordable personal computers and the empty lives of people distracting themselves, hoping to escape their gnawing sorrow. This all confirmed to The Supreme Founder that he was special, and his purpose eclipsed everybody else’s.
Soon after the first revelation came the second revelation: He was broke.
His family, now under the mind control of the evil Annunaki, had cut off his allowance. The evil Annunaki were the enemies of the Atlanteans. Their sole goal was to prevent mankind’s awakening. They feared The Supreme Founder’s ultimate form. His true potential. So wielded their power to cut his funding. The reason his parents gave was not to finance his suicidal opium addiction. But he saw through their Anunnaki lies.
Nothing, though, was going to stand in his way. The Supreme Founder would realise his quest to save mankind. Luckily, he was a natural entrepreneur. He surveyed the economic landscape for business opportunities in order to have the best financial platform to continue his mission. This involved an in depth SWOT analysis of future growth markets. Confident that his homework was flawless, the decision was settled. His venture couldn’t fail. So he launched his business as a ceremonial magickcian.
The Supreme Founder by birthright was a natural Atlantean magickcian. Globnok had tutored him in the ways of Atlantean magick. However, he was mysteriously drawn to one branch of the art. The art of black sexual magick. An art he would excel in. His mighty magic wand could whip up a vortex of sexual elemental energy so intense that he could make any woman squirt within a one and a half kilometre radius. The news spread across the lands of his legendary prowess. As a result, a harem of young, wide-eyed, consenting bohemian women followed The Supreme Founder wherever he went.
The side hustle of practicing magick allowed him to pursue his writing. It was during this period that he sent off many works to various publishers. All who rejected every single one of those works, as they didn’t have the gift of sight. However, The Supreme Founder wasn’t bitter. He saw these gatekeepers as unfortunate Annunaki puppets dwelling in the darkness of untruth. They would not stop him, though. Nothing short of societal collapse could stop him.
Suddenly, the war broke out. Society was collapsing and there was a sharp downturn in the demand for ceremonial magickcians. This, combined with his lack of publishing success, left The Supreme Founder struggling to make ends meet. He needed a reliable nine-to-five job. Compelled to spread his message of peace to the world and put food in his stomach, The Supreme Founder accepted the role as minister of information in Germany’s war effort. It was there, in Germany, that he worked alongside a talented writer named Joseph Goebbels. The pair became close writing partners and together created works some said were too good to be true.
In this fruitful period of his extraordinary life, The Supreme Founder flourished both creatively and financially. Not only did he publish many works, but he amassed a substantial sum of unclaimed Jewish gold. Times were good. But all that was about to change.
As the tide of the war turned against the Germans, The Supreme Founder discovered the Nazis were using his written pieces as propaganda. This hurt his feelings. To him, loyalty was everything. Staying would violate his ethical code, so he rejoined the allies. After his peaceful resignation, the fair weather Nazis tried to assassinate him with a dirty bomb. He was wounded, but still alive. Through sheer grit, he crawled one hundred kilometres out of axis territory and into the safety of no-man’s-land. There on the battlefield he laid, weak, waiting for death.
All death needed was for him to let go. To give in. But he knew death was the easy way out. The way of the coward. So, he summoned his inner strength to survive, not for selfish reasons, but for his duty to save mankind. As a natural survivalist, his survival instincts kicked in and he foraged on whatever he found on the battlefield. After six months on an all-meat diet, he had nursed himself back to even stronger health than before. Filled with the strength of a thousand soldiers, he marched through no-man’s-land straight to allied headquarters.
His deep insider knowledge of the German war machine proved a valuable asset to the allies and was key to ending the reign of the Nazis. For his heroic efforts and shrewd bartering skills, the allies awarded The Supreme Founder with thirty-two different medals of honour and bravery. Making him the world’s most decorated war hero.** A war feat never to be repeated.
Post-war, The Supreme Founder sold his recovered collection of unclaimed Jewish gold to finance his writing. One day, after years of toiling unpublished, he realized he may not live to see his work bear any fruit. Globnok’s prophesy of computers, internet and cheap web space was nowhere on the horizon. Rather than invent these lucrative devices himself, viewing them as a waste of his talents, he determined the need for a successor to carry on his legacy and fulfill Globnok’s vision. For this, he needed a suitable host to spawn an heir.
The task was gruelling. A repeated process of examination and elimination. From the agony of selecting a healthy vessel for his seed. To the thorny issue of separating the nameless female from the herd. Followed by the tiring chore of forcibly impregnating her with his seed (for the good of mankind). But after many attempts and misadventures, he finally had twin sons.
In his autumn years, The Supreme Founder’s body had become a handicap to his mission. The time spent in that opium den bravely experimenting with his body in the name of science had caught up with him. But as usual, The Supreme Founder would be the master of his own fate. He would take matters into his own hands. So overtime, he willfully built up arterial plaque in his own aorta, and self-induced a massive heart attack. He didn’t wait, like a coward, for death to find him. He instead went to find death, like a hero. The last act of a noble man who dared to defy the gods.
Free from his earthly bonds and immoral tax obligations, he now operates as a more effective C.E.O (Celestial Executive Officer) of Flightless Aquatic Bird Publications from a greater astral plane. On earth, his sons now manage Flightless Aquatic Bird Publications (strictly operating within the statutory framework of the legal and financial systems bound by their duty to the shareholders as acting fiduciaries).
For one simple reason, to carry on their father’s mission, to save mankind.
*White man***
**Guinness Book of World Records 1993
*** of course