"Go to hell, Howard."

Howard was taken off guard and unsure whether he'd heard Alex correctly.

"Excuse me?" Howard replied.

"You heard me. Go to hell!"

"What is it now, Alex? Are you having a tantrum of some sort?"

"No, I'm just letting you know right off the bat that I'm not helping you. In fact, if I'm going to help anyone, it'll be those people out there busting their asses to expose all of the immoral things you've done and are trying to do."

Howard spent nearly eighty years of his life learning how to respond rationally and unemotionally to whatever he encountered. He'd mastered the "cremation of care" long ago. But Alex's words stung, and warning signs that Alex would not join him were becoming impossible to ignore. His only son, and everything he imagined they could accomplish together, appeared to be slipping away and desperation began to set in. Howard needed this relationship. He needed someone to teach, someone who looked up to him, someone he could trust unconditionally. For a split second, he wondered if a desire to love and be loved was making its way to the surface after a lifetime of suppression. It was a thought, and he strangled it before it could take a single breath.

"Calm down, Alex. Why are you talking about morality again? We've been through all of this. Stop saying these foolish things! Stop being so weak! How can you expect to—"

"I'm sorry, Howard, but you're the one who is foolish and weak," Alex replied. "You're living in your own illusion. I hate to break the news, but you're not a lion. You're more like an out-of-control cancer. And that's the big problem with everything that you and your psychotic 'dominant class' has planned. Even if you do manage to create your so-called New World Order and gain total control, you'll just kill the host that you feed on. Then what?"

"Alex, please stop and listen—"

"Have you ever thought of it that way, Howard? Lions don't rule the world. They don't even rule a single herd of animals. Their numbers are kept in check by natural forces, and, unlike you, they take only a tiny percentage. They take only what they need, and they actually serve a legitimate purpose in nature. You and your kind take more and more and more. You're never satisfied, and your desire to dominate everything in the world is far more irrational than the emotions of the so-called inferior class. There is something missing in you. You are not a fully-formed human being."

"Alex, I know that reality is very tough to accept. I, too, had some difficulty when I was—"

"Reality? You want reality? This is reality: A world filled with your kind would devour itself, and that's why it will never work. You've wasted your life trying to create something that, even if it's finally born, will only commit suicide. That's not an 'emotional' argument; it's a fact!

"And here is some more reality: you were either born broken or something broke you. I'm not sure which, and I honestly don't care. All I know is that you're not going to break me. I will never join you. I don't give a shit about your money or the other 'opportunities' that you can offer. When I go to my grave, I'll know that I nurtured, rather than murdered, what it means to be a human being. That might not mean much to you, but then again, neither will all of that money and power when you're just another corpse rotting in the ground."

Alex had finally turned the tables. Now it was Howard who struggled to find a coherent thought. He fell back on the script that had already failed him, and this time, it backfired miserably.

"You don't understand how foolish they are, Alex. Somebody is going to control them; there is nothing you can do to stop that. All you can do is make sure that you are not a victim of their gullibility. You are either part of the dominant class or you are part of the dominated. There are no other choices."

"Sorry, but I don't buy that either," Alex replied. "They don't lack intelligence; they simply don't know the scam. What happens when they learn the scam, Howard?"

"That's the point, Alex. They cannot learn. They don't want to learn. They want to go on believing that the world is exactly what we've told them it is. It comforts them. They are too self-absorbed and cowardly to face the real world. They are too ignorant to comprehend why they should even try! Don't you understand what I am saying? They are irrational; they cannot reason."

"If they can't reason, it's only because you intentionally impaired their ability! But never mind that; how about this? If they're so damn cowardly and stupid, if they're such mindless idiots, come out and tell them! Go on national television and explain who you are, what you do, and how you do it. You won't because you can't. Every scrap of power that you have depends on deception."

Before Howard could take a breath, Alex continued.

"You told them they were smart, witty, and well informed. You told them they controlled their own lives. You programmed them to only trust the 'authorities.' Well, if you really believe they're so ignorant, tell them the truth! No need to explain any complicated details of the system. Just tell them what you've done and how you view them. See what happens."

"And that would increase our advantage in what way?" Howard asked.

"It wouldn't increase your advantage; that's the point. It would prove that you don't really have one. If an entire lifetime of your deception and brainwashing can be destroyed in a single instant, then I think you're drastically overestimating your so-called advantage. You rely on the fact that 'deception provides what the truth denies.' Fine, but what happens when you reverse that? What happens when it becomes 'The truth denies what deception provides'? I don't think you can hide the truth forever. I don't believe that most people are too stupid to see the truth when it's put before them. More importantly, I don't think you truly believe that they are either, or you wouldn't work so hard to hide it from them."

"Alex, you are making a terrible mistake. You are going to rush out into the world waving the truth only to discover that the people you are trying to help do not want to hear it. Their lack of intelligence isn't the only barrier that you'll have to overcome. They are too busy, distracted, selfish, and impatient to seriously look at any information that challenges what they already believe. But your biggest obstacle, the one that is nearly impossible to get past, is their psychological need to protect their world view. They have a deep emotional attachment to the lies that they believe. When you attempt to expose those lies, they will attack you."

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that I will be attacked for pointing out what you are doing to them?"

"No, you will be attacked for attacking what they believe."

"What exactly does that mean?" Alex asked.

"Public education empowers children. Therefore, by opposing it, you will disempower children. Government takes and spends money for the good of the nation. By opposing this practice, your greed weakens the nation. Wars are fought to secure human rights and protect the innocent. Your opposition facilitates both the destruction of human rights and murder of the innocent.

"We can easily thwart any attempt to undermine our institutions and policies by framing arguments in this way. By doing so, we not only confirm that the beliefs they hold are correct, we also confirm that they are morally superior for holding them. These are viewed as emotional assets, Alex. When you try to take them away, it will be you, not the dominant class, who is seen as the enemy."

Alex felt himself slipping a bit. He'd felt strong and confident up until this point, but Howard was gaining ground. He decided to quit while he was ahead.

"Howard, I've heard enough of your bullshit. It always sounds convincing at first, but if I think about it for a while, I can poke holes in it. They might believe in your institutions and policies now, but that will end when they see the truth."

"You are in way over your head, Alex. You have no understanding of basic human psychology. When you challenge their deeply held beliefs, especially beliefs they use to define themselves as moral human beings, you will not be heard. They have nothing to gain by seriously considering what you have to say."

"They have the truth to gain!" Alex yelled.

"At what cost, Alex? Think! You are asking them to shatter their deepest convictions about what makes them a good person. You are asking them to trade 'being right' for being wrong. They won't do it. A simple ad hominem attack will satisfy 75 percent of those who don't want to consider your claims. If we create a media rebuttal, regardless of how weak it is, that will satisfy nearly all of the rest. I promise you, in the end, 95 percent will be happy to ignore you. You have no idea what you're up against, and you are being completely irrational. You cannot achieve what you're aiming for, Alex. You will sacrifice yourself and benefit no one in the process."

"It ain't gonna work, Howard. I don't care if I'm being irrational. I don't care what I'm up against. I don't even care if you're right about only 5 percent being interested in the truth. Five percent of the world's population equals hundreds of millions of people. That's a lot of goddamn people, and I'm more than happy to stand and fight with them! I will never serve you or your pathetic class!"

Howard felt an emotional pain shoot through his entire body. It was the first time in many, many decades that anything approaching true heartache had shown itself. In the past, he would have driven it down the moment it tried to emerge. But not today. Today, he let it well up inside him. He let it overwhelm him. And in that instant, he realized, as painful as it was, that he was experiencing the most deeply meaningful moment of his seventy-eight years. He felt a flash of pride for his son, followed by fear, and then even more pain. He was human, if only for a moment—and then it was gone.

"Good-bye, Alex. . ."

"Good-bye?" Alex asked with indignation. "Is that really all you've got to say for yourself?"

There was no reply.

"You mean you're finally done lecturing me about how irrational I'm being?"

No reply.

"What about this laptop, the headphones, and the books you sent? What am I supposed to do with this stuff? Am I supposed to give it back?"

Silence.

"Howard? You still there?"

After a long pause, it sank in. Howard was gone. He'd vanished as quickly and unexpectedly as he'd arrived, and he'd taken Alex's connection to the dominant class with him. Slowly, Alex removed his headphones. And for the first time in his life, he felt the darkness of the illusion surround him.

Just a moment ago, Howard was real. By extension, so too was the "real world," with its predatory dominant class. Alex had a living, breathing enemy that he could point his condemnation at and throw his arguments against. He had someone to defeat. Now, it was just Alex sitting alone in a cold, damp basement. The enemy had disappeared and left no trail. Even if he wanted to, Alex couldn't prove that any of it happened. He'd already checked his bank account statement; there was no record, no proof, of the massive cash transactions. The laptop, books, and headphones still in his possession could be purchased anywhere. They proved nothing. Not even the audio that Alex had recorded could prove Howard's existence, let alone the truth of his unbelievable admissions. Any twelve-year old speaking through voice-morphing software could have made those recordings.

Alex's sense of power and self-righteous indignation, the sound and fury that was so loud within him just a moment ago, fell eerily silent. It all seemed so clear and easy when he was chastising Howard. It was as simple as right and wrong, good and evil. The battle played out in his mind like a movie with the final scene clear as day: Millions upon millions of angry citizens standing up, destroying "the illusion" and holding the master manipulators accountable for their crimes. A new decentralized system, one that could never be manipulated by a tiny group of psychopaths, would be created to replace the old. Cooperation instead of coercion. Truth instead of lies. If he listened closely, he could almost hear an inspirational soundtrack playing in the background.

But the movie in his mind had conveniently skipped over the current reality. Currently, the illusion was still firmly intact. Currently, the dominant class was still firmly in control. As for the millions of people that Alex saw himself standing shoulder to shoulder with, they hadn't yet assembled. There was no deafening roar of a focused and determined crowd, no united voices drowning out the apologists for centralized power. No, it was just Alex, alone in the basement; the only sound playing in the background was a slow and steady drip, coming from the slop sink's faucet.

Alex intended to confront the most powerful, far-reaching, and well-organized system of human manipulation ever created. That he was woefully ill-equipped, ill-prepared, underfunded, and outgunned had somehow escaped his mind until this moment. On cue, Howard's distorted voice rang out in his head: "I tried to warn you, Alex. You cannot stop what we have planned."

Alex struggled to find an empowering rebuttal, but not even Joe Riggs could bring down their system by himself, and he wasn't Joe Riggs. He was plain old Alex Watson, a middle-aged nobody living in his mother's basement. But nearly as soon as that self-defeating thought entered his mind, another thought replaced it. He spoke it into the basement air as if Howard were sitting directly across from him. "You're right, Howard. A person like me can't stop what you have planned, but that's OK because I don't have to. In the end, the truth is what will ultimately bring you and your system down."

It was a start, and that one encouraging thought quickly snowballed into a handful of others. Alex captured them as quickly as he could:

First of all, I won't be fighting this alone. All of those whistleblowers, independent organizations, and ordinary people I found online are also fighting. They're all allies. By Howard's own admission, there are thousands of authors out there fighting. They are allies. Every single human being who refuses to be ruled by a morally inferior class of sociopaths—allies. And anyone who was once conned into supporting these lunatics (or is still being conned) is a potential ally.

I don't care what Howard says. If his kind didn't fear the consequences of the truth, they wouldn't censor, cover up, and lie about everything they do. We can defeat them, and they know it.

Alex still felt some uncertainty, but he'd managed to move himself back in the right direction. By speaking and proving the truth, by exposing undeniable facts, he knew that he and his allies could poke holes in the illusion. They could create doubt in the minds of the believers. They could get them thinking, questioning and discovering on their own. The truth, like fire, would ravage the dominant class.

We just have to keep lighting those fires, one by one, until we burn the illusion down. We have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Alex knew exactly how he could light some fires. Ironically, the idea came from Howard himself. He'd write a short book about the "Law of Power" and the maxim that "deception provides what the truth denies." Contrary to Howard's wishes, he wouldn't write as an apologist for the dominant class. In fact, he looked forward to doing the opposite. He couldn't wait to undermine the poorly reasoned, hypocritical rationalizations that they use to justify their crimes.

Although he had plenty of material to begin writing immediately, Alex decided to spend a few more weeks looking into and verifying other topics he'd come across. But a few weeks turned into a few months. A few months turned into a few years.

Each gigantic lie that Alex uncovered only seemed to expose a thousand more lies beneath it. Every time he tried to wrap up his research and begin writing, he discovered another handful of topics that needed a closer look. Once again, the note taped to his computer began to taunt him. Though it reminded him every day, "You will research and Write the book," deadline after deadline came and went without a single page.

Originally, Alex promised his mother a copy of his book by Christmas of 2009. She finally stopped asking about it after Christmas of 2010. That's also about the time she began sneaking down into the basement each morning to check on him. He wasn't shaving or bathing as often as he used to. He'd lost a lot of weight and begun ranting about "crazy conspiracy theories." Because she feared he might be losing his mind, she also took it upon herself to invite a new person over to play cards with the girls—a fifty-something bearded man that, supposedly, they had met at the donut shop. He liked to ask Alex a lot of questions. It was painfully obvious that the man was a shrink. Alex just played along. He had far more upsetting things to confront than his mother's good intentions.

After about two years, Alex's friends finally stopped trying to drag him out of the house. Many of them took his snubs personally, and that upset him. He never wanted to hurt their feelings. He only hoped that, when he finished the book, they would finally understand. Besides, he convinced himself that he was doing them all a favor by not accepting their invitations. Alex wasn't drinking anymore, and nothing that he'd want to discuss would add much "fun" to their fun night out.

After reading more than 100 books, and after poring over an additional twenty to thirty thousand pages of online documents, after countless hours of video and audio and thousands of hours trying to process and organize it all, Alex made himself stop. He could work for a hundred years, and he'd never uncover it all. He could write a book a hundred feet thick, and it would still come up short.

On November 1, 2011, Alex began going over and organizing his hundreds of pages of notes for the last time. On November 10, 2011, he took the sign off his computer. It was no longer necessary. He was writing the book.