You have it, mark my words. Yes, you have the millennium virus. There is good news, and there is not so good news. The good news is that the virus is beneficial to you (and the rest of us as a byproduct). The not so good news is that only way to stop its growth is stupidity. That means most of you will never experience the virus developing into full flower.

Now when most of you read the word "stupidity," all kinds of little reflexes start firing ranging from "who does he think he is to call ME stupid" to "how did he know that about me?" I know this subject well for I am only now beginning to shake off the fog of stupidity and allowing the millennium virus to flourish in what's left of my gray matter. You are not alone in your stupidity. In fact you have company that numbers in the billions.

What is stupid anyone? As Forrest Gump's mother told him, "Stupid is as stupid does." We can surmise from Mother Gump's aphorism that to possess stupidity one must be in action, ergo, stupid is not a state of mind but is a way of acting. In other words, we have to work at it. Who in his or her right mind works at being stupid? The answer is most of you.

Now that I have your attention and you probably feel insulted (your choice), let us look at the word "stupid." My dictionary's first choice of a definition is, "in a state of stupor; dazed, stunned; stupefied." Gentle persons, this is how most of you go through your day, day after day. The millennium virus has lain dormant for past millennia. Yes, it is true that sunspots or extra terrestrial induced radiation activated the virus in some folks, myself for example; however, for most of you, thick layers of brain fat kept anything from penetrating into that inner core where the virus lay gently snoring. Now you know the cause of tinnitus.

"All right, Vex, what is this millennium virus you keep raving about while neglecting to define?"

That is a fair question and deserves an equally fair answer. The millennium virus is that tiny spark of the Divine that exists in every one of us from serial killer to saint. The virus is the key to all of that for which we yearn. It is the gateway to all that we need to know to be fulfilled as humans in this existence. What do most of us do with respect to our spark? We ignore it. Oh, sometimes we breath a tiny bit of life into it when we take time to really see a sunset, a mountain, the rebirth of Spring, or a baby's unabashed smile. Once in a great while we may even do something for someone with no expectation of what we will gain from the gift. Sometimes, rare though they may be, we actually look at another human being without judgment or criticism. Mind you, it does not happen often, and we can usually quickly crush those thoughts. Thank goodness!

If the virus were to become pandemic, then governments would tumble, economic systems fail, and religions forgotten. How terrible! Who wants to live in a world full of peace and harmony? Not you. "How can you say that Vex, why everyone wants that kind of life…don't they?"

My reply to that is, "Show me the action." We are far too busy manifesting curling irons and four irons to pay much attention to our inner selves. We are so fortunate that our inner selves possess enormous patience. If my outer self had been my inner self, it would have fled for the high country decades ago rather then lay at the bottom of the swamp that inundated most of my life. Most of us are simply not aware and choose not to become so. We fill our days and nights with ritualistic activities and deny that there is anything but martinis and mushrooms. We run on automatic. We are so invested in vainly attempting to ally our fears that security becomes our sole occupation.

I think that the advent of the third millennium is a big deal. Think about what has happened in the last two millennia. Humanity has "risen" from caves to corporations. (Although there are some who, with good reason, say that really is not progress.) We made incredible attempts to master our environment. Why? We feared our environment and wanted to control it. A modest hurricane, earthquake, lightening bolt, or a Great White Shark in the old swimming hole lets us know that we really are not in control.

We are not "safe." Never have been and never will while wandering around dazed in human form... this is what it's all about. Wake up. Hello! Duh! Spirit never intended for us to be consumed with building a better mousetrap. Spirit intended that we see mice as our brothers and sisters. Look who's winning? There are more mice than humans, and they have been around longer. In our search for "meaning," we want signs and symbols. Well, friends and neighbors, it don't get any more symbolic than the signage on the calendar that says "2001." We have made it this far even after having cleverly dreamed up the technology to eradicate humanity from the Earth.

So let's celebrate, but hold the six-pack and the pizza. Let the inner spark of your Divinity shine through the fear and muck of everyday life. See who you really are. Look in the mirror and see beyond the five o'clock shadow, the wrinkles, the perceived imperfections, and discover a magnificent Spiritual being uniquely blessed with free will and choice. Use that gift to open yourself to the possibility of who you were born to be: a fulfilled expression of the Divine who takes the time and the effort to see the Divine in everyone. Do this and there will be no need for security. Do this and all that you truly need will be forthcoming. Infect others with the millennium virus.

A plague on all of us.

H. Vexson is a black sheep offspring of an established East Coast (USA) lineage that predates the Internet and who heavily invested in Xerox and Apple at the right time. After graduating from well-known ivy prep and collegiate institutions, he was struck in the head by a mallet in a polo match. Although his team did win, he experienced an epiphany, sold his ponies and the Bentley, and sallied westward to California. There he garnered some minor fame in establishing a chain of aromatherapy stores named Smell This, garnering him a small fortune and establishing independence from the East Coast Vexsons. Forsaking the family traditions of Republican conservatism, he is a Libertarian, writes bad poetry, and lives quite comfortably where he may view the ocean and the mountains as well as the poor souls going to and fro their "jobs." If you wish to have a personal communiqué forwarded to him, please do so in care of the Editor of this magazine.