Chapter 7 ended as follows:

Health, wealth, safety and peace.

For this to happen all wars must cease.

That’s just one thing, this law will do.

Read it now, this gift for you.


(The fundamental natural law of protection)


No person, group of persons, or government, shall initiate force, threat of force, or fraud, against any individual’s self, property, or contract.


Force is morally and legally justified only for protection from those who violate Article One.


No exceptions shall exist for Articles One and Two.

Chapter 8 begins…

When Craigniton finished his mission statement put to rhyme, he told everyone that they would find a thick sheet of gold foil — either flat or rolled up – in an envelope attached to the under-carriage of each chair. A flat sheet suggested that the crew member stay at his or her work station. Roll-ups suggested that these crew members move out into the main staging area, and think about what happened to “Chicken Little”. Every single person was quite content either way, because engraved into the gold was the refiner’s certification of 99.99% purity, and a weight of 16 ounces.

As CRAIGNITON vanished from view, sure enough, hundreds of balloons – a multitude of colors glowing with brilliant iridescence — erupted out of the vaulted ceiling high overhead, floating down through the rafters into the eager hands of the jubilant crowd. Every balloon came with another message written around its squeaky tight mid-section: “Hit me hard or tap me light, if you use your foil, you’ve done it right.”

Instead of the expected “pop,” each balloon exuded a nearly inaudible hiss, as it first sagged, doubled over, and then, as the last bit of gas escaped, as if chasing the great Craigniton, it, too, simply vanished; leaving behind a fragrance all agreed they had never smelled before, but would love to again – and a card with a letter and number on it. It wasn’t long before the workers noticed that the same arrangement of letters and numbers in a rainbow of twinkly lights now adorned the studio floor. Put A1 and B2 together, and you have two of the 250 standing next to each other. In such a manner, this alpha-numeric solution was deployed without explanation.

An unknowing outside observer might view the trusting crew members scurrying into the spots designated on their cards, as a large group of passengers getting ready to board a departing plane. Yet these faithful employees gave little thought as to the “why” of it, because they were fully engaged in the game-like fun of it. Once everyone was in position, the lights gave it one last twinkle, and were gone.

…to be replaced by a shrill whistle and the holographic image of the trim, vivacious gal blowing it – overhead — where Craigniton’s image had appeared. A close-up view of her face confirmed how well-matched the bubbly tones and breathtaking features, as she asked all the folks now standing in rows to simply follow the arrows each time they heard her whistle. The first of the following 250 high-pitched cues sent each of those standing to a work station occupied by a comrade intently watching the proceedings. Thusly paired, everyone exchanged names, hugs, job descriptions…while Patty Page’s “Tennessee Waltz,” Debby Reynold’s “Wish I knew,” Doris Day’s “What Will Be, Will Be,” and other nostalgic melodies floated softly amidst the gala gathering.

By the time #250 rolled around, the fourth hour had already flown by – but none let fatigue keep them from enjoying the royal feast that followed…or from wondering if their whistle blowing drill sergeant was “THE ONE.” Amidst such speculation there was nary a groan in the house when our gal from above demurely informed that she would be coordinating the second half of the hug fest on the morrow. After all, those in line still had each other to greet and meet, as did those situated in their work areas.

Despite the added charm of our mysterious young maiden, the regimentation would have been well-received anyway, because oneness ruled here. By enabling all the studio crewmen an opportunity to meet each other close up (eye-to-eye and body-to-body), and to learn first-hand what everyone else was doing, strengthened that shared sense of being one. Those who were notoriously self-conscious and uncomfortable under similar circumstances found even the hugging to be extraordinarily easy.

Many felt that Master Key sits and silences – recommended, demonstrated, and embraced by most as a daily ritual — with the physical, mental, emotional, spiritual clarity resulting – were responsible for this first-in-a-lifetime ability to connect so intimately.


As CRAIGNITON stood and surveyed the bubbling activity down below, it was as if he had hopped onto a time machine and transported back a month to when he, Craignito, then, and Subucon, now, first made their secret descent into WWS: World Within Studio.

Now, however, he stood alone, in an alcove specially built just for him. From this perch he could see everyone down below, and everyone down below could see him, if they had cause to look. However, at this moment, his entry was completely unnoticed by everyone down below. This sudden flurry of activity signified that the moment they had been waiting for, preparing for, longing for, would be soon. As it turns out, three of the four weeks CRANITON lay in what appeared to be suspended animation, were spent in similar repose by the entire WWS crew — in silence, looking within to make sure what they were about to do — each with their own essential role – no matter how seemingly big or small it might appear – would be handled as if the world itself depended upon it. They had all made the journey deep into the world within, found their unique gifts, and were absolutely grateful for the connection made through their subconscious to the Universal Mind. Such joyful bliss would have been contagious; but in this group, it didn’t need to be, because everyone had already caught the contagion. Overwhelming waves of joyful wonder greeted each worker as he or she took his or her first step onto the radiant studio floor that day. The harmony of oneness instantly filled each mind, heart, and soul; erasing any lingering trace of lack, limitation, disease, danger, difficulty or whatever trouble might be frightfully hanging on – for very few chunks of what was once solid cement had managed to make it this far.

So incredible were the waves of love, of bliss, of joy, they were suddenly, serenely transformed into a perfusion of harmonious sounds and colors and tastes and smells and delicious tingling excitement, as CRAGNITON’s presence took full advantage of the “state of the art” Obi-Wan Kenobi HD holographic projection the studio had prepared for this occasion; but far more significant the diamond crisp concert-hall audio designed to capture every vibratory nuance of the speaker’s voice empowered CRAIGNITON’S first word: “WELCOME!

No words can come close to describing the effect that an entire month in direct contact with the Universal can do, did do, to the way this single word was delivered — but no one missed a single syllable. Everyone had instantly stopped what they were doing, as all heads, and all eyes turned in complete unison, as if one, to the empty space before CRAIGNITON’S projection had even appeared to fill it. As difficult as it might be to find factual basis for such a supernatural display of unrehearsed behavior, the fact that it did occur is undeniable — recorded for all eternity by the best of the best devices in existance, and the sworn testimony of the 500+ in attendance that glorious day (but requests for such testimony — not a single one).

This welcome was followed by another, then another, and another…Welcome John Lancaster, welcome Betty Baumgardner, welcome Pete Rosenthal, as, on and on, around the room he went.

When asked what seemed special about CRAIGNITON’S address, some of those answering said there was excitement, joy, love, faith, hope, in the musical tones of his voice – even though the deep baritone that was recorded does not sound musical in the slightest; some said it was, clear, decisive, calm, peaceful, deliberate, sustained in thought, unwavering, confident; a few thought it was laughingly funny, while others completely serious; all agreed it was warm, friendly, comfortable – as if you’d known him your entire life; some were amazed to feel their backaches disappearing as he spoke, others their headaches disappearing — until they were gone…

After CRAIGNITON had welcomed every person by first and last time, including their particular role – completely from memory without any sign of technological assistance, and after letting all his great crew know how humbled and privileged and grateful he was for the honor of leading what was to come, everyone knew by the way he said what he did, that it wasn’t just CRAIGNITON speaking to them, it was the Universal – and this is what was said…