From the day my eyes first saw the light as a newborn in Alameda, CA (considered an island by virtue of a man made estuary that runs between it and Oakland), I must have emerged a stubborn little handful. I distinctly remember how much I loved crawling, damn I was fast, and refused any attempt to go upright, arguing my case quite effectively, because I  was already speaking quite fluently by the time I decided to give in and let them have their way. “Them” being my dad, also named Loren, my mom, Harriet, and my sister, Kandis, who came on the scene 2 years and 5 month after me – although she didn’t have any say in the matter – literally or figuratively. Talk about resistant behavior, just between you and me, for someone who would be voted by her High School graduating class as the female counterpart of the cutest couple, she was, in Junior High, still sucking her thumb on the sly.

I was 4 when we moved to San Lorenzo about 15 miles down the road. Although I was the valedictorian at Sunset High, the penultimate highlight during this period actually took place 4 years earlier at Bohannon Junior High. Standing on our football field encircled by the wild gleeful cheering of 7th and 8th graders, I was the only player between the guy, who had just caught a pass, eluded our most sure-handed safety, and heading full-tilt for pay dirt on the last play of the game. When my feet left the ground, both arms went up as if in tribute to the bright blue Autumn sky, one hand clutching a fluttering white strip of cloth. It was the last time I played organized football, but pulling that flag meant I hand quarterbacked my team to the League Title – undefeated.

I’ll move more quickly now. After obtaining a Bachelor’s degree in Nutritional Science (1971) at UC Berkeley, spending 3 years stationed in Germany for the US Army, returning (1974), going back to college, getting married (1979), working 7+ years in a warehouse (1984), getting divorced (1985), going back to school for my Chiropractic degree (1988), practicing a few years, I was working in my own office, when nearly 3 decades of playing tournament handball  tortured my body – my right hip, specifically – into screaming: “Enough’s enough!”, and I retired around  the turn of the millennia.
What follows are my answers to profile questions posed upon my entry into a premier 8-week course of selling on Amazon, called ASM – the Amazing Selling Machine.

Howdy, Everyone.
Loren “Crazy Craig” Taylor, here. I’m 66+ going on 5 (I would say: “2”, but that’s a bit too terrible, even for me).
– Where are you from?

I came from where I currently am: the SF Bay Area in California.

– What’s your experience with selling physical products?

Going back about 4 decades takes me to the beginning of what I consider my Dark Ages. I had just returned from a three-year tour of duty in the Army, where I was stationed in Southern Germany. While enrolled at Cal State University in Hayward, I met my later-to-be wife, who talked me into selling Amway products. Having quit school to work in a warehouse, I was doing pretty well selling to my co-workers, when my marriage fell apart (which is probably the best part of this dark period of my life, because I never should’ve married this gal is in the first place) and thus ended our so-called business (regarding which, by the way, my ex never sold a thing).

That’s about it.

– Why did you join this community?

About two months ago, I had the very good fortune of being connected with Anik Singal. Before I knew it, I enrolled in his Inbox Blueprint affiliate marketing program. A week or two after that, I became a founding member of his Profit Academy; and a week or two later, found myself joining OMG Project X, which specializes in seo marketing, using the Google platform. This is all occurring while living on SSI retirement income, mind you, plus an additional $250/month for a TVP/3000-Year-Old Secret teleconference that I cohost.

So, when Anik brought ASM to my attention, I immediately became fascinated. The opportunity to join soon became irresistible; so, when I discovered there were still enough funds remaining on one of my credit cards – well, here I am!

– What are you looking forward to?

Having a ton of fun (I notice that “ton” is a word that’s used a lot, lately), while making a ton of money (see what I mean?); and, of course, interacting with all you good folks (or “bad”. That’s okay — because it’s all good, one way or another.).

– What else are you looking forward to?

See how sneaky I can be? I bet you didn’t see this as one of the guidelines that Matt gave us.

Using everything I receive from Anik and his Profit Academy ASM Team (Anik is throwing in an additional $20,000 plus in bonuses to be part of his team within a team – and if you are not a part of this, you have a right to be envious), and ASM Academy, to further the spread of awareness of something very special called the Prime Law.
Believe it or not, when the Prime Law is added as an over-arching Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, it will return our government to what it was always meant to be (to what all governments are meant to be, really): protection only! It will remove men and women from the governing process (something that has never happened in the entire history of the world), and simply by doing that, transform the entire world to a world free of poverty, disease, terrorism and crime, unemployment, lowered standards of living (no matter, where in the world you might be living), poor education, and unnecessary fear of all kinds – including the one associated with what is currently happening: America’s fall into insolvent bankruptcy.

The 12 Visions Movement, the TVP, and The Prime Law will make everyone rich – including the poor!

And then my last page, the finishing touch added to my ASM profile.


If it’s not due to some sort of unfortunate neurological and/or psychological disorder, I believe there is a lot of value in returning to our “child of the past”. The use of badges as stepping stones signifying higher and higher levels of ASM Academy Achievement carries me all the way back to Brother Buzz, a television show that first aired in the SF Bay Area in 1952 (I was five at the time); that used animal cast of marionettes to promote the humane treatment of animals – and, specific to the reason for mentioning it here, I fondly recall a pyramid of stairs, 7 or 8, leading upward. To climb each stair meant reaching a new level of learning in the realm of cat care and pooch pampering — which, of course, carried over to the treatment of all our animal friends. At the very top of the stairs stood the heavenly Golden Rule. Kids need to learn how to treat each other, too, because what goes around, comes around, and what goes on in the “grown-up” world is hardly a good standard to go by – if so-called “reality TV” is any indicator. I’m starting to judge. Don’t mean to. The minutes I’ve seen; too few to mention. That’s enough.

And the next thing I know, the ASM badges of glory are carrying me back into my past once more – not quite as far this time though – to my Boy Scout days. These are the days I spent some of my free time feverishly stalking the elusive merit badge. I could picture myself like a general with all those metals dangling off a starched khaki scout uniform. However, instead of signifying a significant achievement that would collectively enable me to reach the highest ranks of scout hood, each one became a flashy reminder of what should be, but never would be. If only I hadn’t nearly drowned twice, wasn’t now (now being then) so panicky afraid of water higher than my chin, and could swim 50 yards. 50 yards – that’s all. That’s what stood between me and first-class. It may have just as well have been 5000 yards. I couldn’t swim. My fate was sealed. I was forever destined to be second-class – a second-class Boy Scout.

Despite this thorn, magnified by my super-competitive adolescent boyhood ego, that got so big I buckled under the weight; turned in my canteen – I think – but kept the knife. Was it simply a matter of time intervening; or, perhaps, my ability to rise to the challenge, overcome my fear of deep water, and in a handful of years, plus a finger or two, become a half-decent swimmer. Side stroke, backstroke, breast stroke, the Australian Crawl – I could do them all – even jump off  the high dive.

Heck, it took  more than a decade longer, at least, before moving past the shyness, caused a knee-jerk reaction, sent me running to hide in the men’s bathroom at the High School, end-of-year, freshman class picnic; when the puckered lips of a cute girl named Heidi, on target, aimed straight at mine, got way, way too close. Oh, the embarrassment. Boy was I glad Heidi had moved away that summer – thus eliminating the possibility of a sophomore confrontation, face-to-face.

… or, perhaps, whatever else it was that happened in the half-century plus between now and then. What a fine filter it has all turned out to be: the time, the tragedies (I know. Quite a traumatic childhood, huh?) Don’t know for sure what it was that buffed and shined each and every memory this way. Making even the rotten seem golden. And the rest? And the rest, even better than that.

I will leave it at that. This was to be, when my pen first touched paper (actually, when my finger fist hit a key) A SHORT BIO. Has it been any of that? Haven’t written a whole lot of bios in my 66+. This sudden gush of verbiage that swept me away.

If that’s what just the thought of earning my first ASM badge of accomplishment can do. That’s a good sign. A very good sign.
Looking forward to coming back here to add info more in align with the purpose intended.  Thanks Matt.  Thanks Jason. Thanks for the inspiration. And my feet are not even wet yet.

Since it’s probably before your time, that and Jason, you may not be familiar with the statement made in one of Clint Eastwood earliest films, “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly”, which was: “We don’t need any stinking badges.” For the purposes of that movie that character’s statement may have been true. Here at ACM Academy, the polar opposite is true.

“Hey, badges – stinking or otherwise – here I come! I’m gonna get you.”

I’m still coming…and that’s, in part, the why that takes the mystery  out of the reason for joining MKMMA.

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