Since the beginning of the dawn of time, science man has longed for the answer to the questions of the mind and the science of thinking. From the French peasant to the uppity French king, men of all walks of life, regardless of how much coin they pocket, have asked these questions: Who am I? Who is that guy? Why am I so unhappy? What is keeping me from the things I want? Why don’t I have a goddamn pot to piss in and Cheurvier, that cocky shit, he has that chapeau down on Napoleon Street?

At last, someone has created a science to answer those questions: Scienetics.

Scienetics isn’t some phony voodoo, like voodoo or psychiatry; Scienetics is a fully-copyrighted blueprint of how the mind works, or fails to work, and how we can kick our own minds in the ass or threaten to pinkslip them if they don’t get back to work. And best of all, Scienetics works.

How do I know Scienetics works? Because I do. I’ve been to every corner of this square earth and seen man in all his various degrees. I’ve slept under trees with the bushmen of the Calihari desert, under the thankless moon and the cold onslaught of desert winds. I’ve rested on the couch of presidents, from Eisenhower to Reagan, until I was politely asked to leave. I’ve shared beds with strange men from the suburbs—you name the type of person, I’ve probably had some sort of sleeping arrangement worked out with them. This is because I had no money for several years.

During these moneyless times, I’ve had opportunity to study mankind, and a lot of women, don’t mistake that. I’ve seen him at his peak and I’ve seen him lying in piss under a bus stop bench. I’ve heard stories of success and I’ve smelled the urine. But any fool can do this. What I’ve done is blueprinted the human brain, and some monkey brains, just for fun; I’ve seen what makes us succeed and what makes us fail. I’ve drawn intricate topographical maps and marked the expensive areas to live in, if we were brain cells. Why? Because it’s fun. And because it’s the science to making us the people we’ve always wanted to be.

Make no mistake, this is no $20 fly-by-night self-help method dispelled by enigmatic gurus with no background in science. Scienetics costs much more than that. Yet it’s worth every penny, because it works. I’ve taken complete idiots, morons, bellowing manchilds with no intelligence and no self-respect, and I gave them jobs working for my brother-in-law. I’ve turned around the weakest of minds, and shown them the way to what the Buddha would call “enlightenment.” And I can call it that, too, because the Buddha never heard of copyrighting.

The secret right here, and this is the only secret I’m giving away before you buy the book, is one thing: the subactive mind. What is the subactive mind? Well, it’s copyrighted, that’s for damn sure. But it’s more than that. It’s also the instinctive, the sub-level reacting part of our personalities that harbors the nastiest and most petty part of ourselves. It’s that portion of our mind that works against us. Freud called it the subconscious, because he was a junkie moron. But where he got it wrong, I’ve got it right.

The best part of Scienetics is, no matter what you’re problem, we can cure you—unlike psychiatry. If you have an IQ of 70 or 145, or higher like mine, we can take you. If you have an uncle who sexually abused you, and who doesn’t, or a bad series of romantic relationships, we can take you. If you have a wallet full of $7 million or $7, we can take you.

And it’s tax-free.

For more of this insightful non-fiction, buy B. Brown Dullard’s book Scienetics.