Bored with my life and career in the 1st world, I decided to sell my car and buy a one-way ticket to the Amazon rainforest. This was not the Amazon of free shipping, but the one of uncontacted tribes and incalculable beauty.
So I went there with a suitcase full of cash and mosquito nets. Not that the former was of much use to me there. I made some friends, probably a few enemies and when I returned, I knew that my life was going to be different.
The first thing I did was sell the rights to my story to Netflix, in which the tribe plays a minor, albeit integral role. I adapted some of their finest recipes and opened up a pop-up restaurant in Las Vegas for the hungry gamblers in need of some traditional fare after a night spent losing oodles of money. Then I turned their land into condos. I taught each of them how to use computers, trade crypto, and the tribe is hosting a fairly successful podcast for the Financial Times. Since they had no written history to speak of, I turned their epic founding myth into an illustrated children’s book. Don’t worry, I listed most of the tribal council in the acknowledgments. Their frequent melodic chants are now a hit song for a teen pop star. I’ve considered teaming up with Disney and letting them live in an open-air museum, (no, not a zoo). However, I’m still on the fence whether that would be appropriate.
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