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What I'm saying is that C.V. Myers is a very interesting fellow to know about if all you want to do is get rich as big and as fast as possible with the least possible effort.

But there's far more to it than that. Because canny Mr. Myers' positively uncanny financial predictions are only a small part of his semi-monthly newsletters. Unlike far too many of his colleagues—who simply spew out recommendations one month and then contradict them the next—Vern always backs his suggested money moves with painfully reasoned analyses of the global and national forces that have influenced him in his decisions.

And that's where ... something larger . . . always seems to take over Mr. Myers' newsletter. That's where the genius comes in. Because C.V. Myers is an Original. The Genuine Article. The kind that have always been few and far between.

Vern Myers, you see, is somehow not quite like the rest of us. He has a freshness, an innocence, an untainted way of thinking that is so honest, so penetrating, so fearless, and—yes—so clairvoyant . . . that it is at once extremely frightening and very, very comforting.

There is an old folk saying: "Them that know ain't talkin' and them that talk don't know." Vern Myers is one of those rare individuals who both know and are willing to talk about it. He's the old Zen master who can float a hair upon the water and split it with his sword. I don't say that.

Vern doesn't say that. His absolutely brilliant and documented record of the past ten years says that. Certain sophomoric minds among us like to state that if you put enough monkeys behind enough typewriters and let them peck away long enough, then sooner or later, by sheer chance—they'll produce an absolutely error-free copy of The Complete Works of Shakespeare.

Maybe so.

But that seems like a rather inefficient way to merely duplicate what one man of genius has already done. Besides—even if the statement is true—we must never forget (as the folks who so glibly make that statement always do seem to forget) that someone is going to have to wade through one hell of a lot of typed-up gibberish before he or she finds that random Chinese copy of of Will's classics.

And the moral of that story is that one wise old elder of the tribe is worth at least twenty million slick buffoons, all their PR agents, all their electronic "progress", all their computers and computer programmers . . . and all the horses they all rode in on.

Or, to get downright nasty about it again: While Vern Myers was divining the economic forces of the planet during the 70's and making vast fortunes for anyone who'd listen to him . . . how much money did your computer-equipped, electronically wired, nationally franchised stockbroker make for you? In real terms? After inflation?

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