Smartystan

Metal chopsticks sat on the corner of the bento box. Vestin Go had polished off the contents just a few moments ago. A glow came from the window of his high rise luxury apartment. He played video games to keep his mind active and focused. Then the phone rang.

“Mom, hey. What’s up?” he asked.

“You know you don’t come around much often….” Marsha Go reminded him.

“ No ‘hello, how are you?’ Just prepare an itinerary for a guilt trip.”

“I mean it.” Her face had been plastered on the wall with the highest quality picture and the sound boomed from all around.

“Ma, if you’re going to try to get me to––”

“Don’t ‘Ma’ me!”

“You can call up Harrison or Leona. I’ve been busy. You know, making the money that you’re spending.”

“Must you be so selfish?”

“Yes, I must. And are you not selfish for thinking about getting a percentage of my fortune?”

Marsha bit her tongue.

“Goodbye, Ma.” He switched the screen off and continued gaming. His phone glowed again but a text message appeared this time. It was from his girlfriend Cynthia. He called her.

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to say ‘hi.’”

“No you didn’t. What is it this time? Fifty Thousand? A hundred thousand?”

“No, it’s not like that. I just want to see you.”

“Okay, I sense a dollar amount attached to this call.”

“Alright, I need about seventy-five thousand. I can pay you back.”

“Think more on the lines of just keeping it. I don’t need it back. Were you and my mom in cahoots on this?”

“No, I haven’t talked to Miss Marsha in weeks.”

Go looked at his figures for his cryptocurrency. The stats reflected that he earned about twenty-three million dollars that day.

“I need you to know,” he said, “I don’t mind giving you money for drugs. I know that’s what you use it for anyway. That’s why they’re legal. Just keep the money and don’t worry about repaying me.”

“I love you so much, Vest’.”

“Goodbye, Cynthia.”

Go possessed the temerity to be impressed by his own ability to handle the women in his life. Something deep in his soul said that he had to be the provider. He sensed that there could be a split between the ave guard and the Smarties. Both Marsha and Cynthia spoke for the average. It may have been a defect in Go’s ability to interact with his own mother and Cynthia. A quiet rage began to boil in his mind. He felt like he could give his mother the universe and Cynthia the city, but to experience the feeling of him being unable to enjoy his money after the government of the United States repealed the federal income tax and made Smartystan an official country unto itself, he felt bereft. An emptiness wrapped around him like a cool wind and haunted his mind like a specter. This inner turmoil only drove him to work smarter. It only gave him the impetus to continue on his life’s journey to create, build, make, and produce.

Go walked around his apartment. He saw the achievement awards on his walls for being the best blockchain trader. Everything sparkled as a learned machine dusted, cleaned, and fixed all of the elements of a spacious place.

He could only wonder what it was like to be average. In his mind, it probably felt like being someone of exceptional morality but lacking in areas deemed to be valuable in the market. Years had passed and most of the careers that people had as janitors, maids, and even construction workers and teachers had been replaced by learned machines like the ones Belinda had made. If he could just be normal, okay, regular, would he be happy? He threw the thought out the window of his mind. He knew that he could be happy with his billions of dollars. That’s what always perplexed him. Why do you have to be happy and poor? Can’t you be happy and rich?

He looked at the time. His dry cleaning had been up and ready. A learned machine delivered his clothes to his front door. As he took in his belongings, Go knew that he could see for the future what it meant to be part of the stages inside and outside of the country-state. It appealed to him while peeling back the thin layer of plastic protecting his clothes to know that everyone could be made whole in their own way. While wrestling with that thought, he wanted to keep watching his profits rise. The figure showed thirty million dollars. A grin curled around his mouth. This was the rush. This was what made him so happy. It was the money, of course, but more importantly, how he generated those funds.

The three others in the Fascinating Four waited on him to clock out of his time spent trading. Drs Strong and Frampton and Belinda all wanted to just go to the local bar in what was Newark, Delaware and relax. Go signaled a driverless car and told it to go to Spotson’s. When he met up with his friends, they noticed that there appeared to be something off about him.

“Talk about it, right now,” Belinda commanded.

“It’s alright. Just some concerns with money and the ladies in my life,” Go said this without an ounce of being glum or soliciting sympathy. His words seemed to just be true, pure.

Dr. Strong looked at Go. “Son, I’m still out here dating low mileage women. When my mother died, I thought she would be the only woman I’d ever love,” He shrugged. “Then, I thought, ‘I’m the prize’ these women may get my love, too. But the cost would be on them.”

In her seat, Dr. Frampton drank a martini. “Vestin, It is my estimation that you’re gonna be alright. Keep making that money and your values will be able to pick up on the fact you’re so productive.”

“How little you know my mom and Cynthia. I love them both, but I just think they’re trying to manipulate me out of my billions. That’s all they’re good for right now.” He finished his saké in one gulp. “I needed that.” He motioned towards the synthetic life form and asked for more drinks all around.

“What I mean, what I’m trying to say,” Go started with just a few sips this time, “is that there is a way that we all deal with the values in our lives.”

“Trust me,” Belinda said. “When it comes to family and money, nevermind the fact you’re gonna pay for everything. They’re going to go out of their way to burden you with the fact that they mean ‘so much.’ In reality, they just want you to give up the ducats.”

“Just remember to remain that beacon of hope for so many people that subscribe and follow you. Never forget that you’re supposed to be the one that must be rationally self-interested. They’re not selfish. They’re showing the pretense of selfishness. They’re concerned about themselves but only by living on your labor, your mind. Never lose sight of that,” Dr. Frampton sipped from her second martini.

“Now that all of that business is out of the way, we’ve got work to do lady, and gents,” Belinda chimed. “We’re going to be taking on the members in the halls of state in a few weeks. We’re going to need to defend the formation of Smartystan based…well, on merit.”

“The meritocracy angle is pretty relaxed once you consider the amount of people that cross into the place each month. They didn’t pass the test. They didn’t show an aptitude for an instrument or a skill as a basketball player or ballet dancer. We, however, allow them in because it is rooted in the ideal of exceptionalism. They want to grow and know what it’s like to be here. That’s the toughest part to fathom.”