My career in Hollywood began in acting, quickly moved to screenwriting with some immediate success, which led me to my winning awards for Playing Solitaire.   After that, I wrote and Directed several test Pilots for television.   I was the first to shoot a 3-camera Sitcom in Hi-Definition.  And was accomplished enough to gain mentorship by two legendary Hollywood Icons:  Barry London former head of Paramount Studios, and Freddie Fields, who Produced many award-winning films.  It was through these two legends and others that I learned all the ways of studios and agencies.   What I experienced was the simultaneous bliss of creating entertainment, and the shame of how Hollywood conducts business.   My refusal to accept the dirty underside of Hollywood might have constrained my rise, but the Integrity gained from it led to my inevitable challenge to restore the honor between the creative and business sectors of the Industry.    

The above explains why I spent years collecting dozens of high-value feature films and television-Streaming media.   So how did this lead to the greatest analysis of Blockchain?    

In 1995, the book Killer Apps opened my mind to a new potential, not just for entertainment but for quality of life.   Being a science geek at heart, I used what knowledge I had of Physics and Electronics to study it.    Killer Apps is on the simplest level just Apps being able to talk to other Apps and make expanding decisions based upon shared data.  On its highest level, I discovered ways to deliver much more.  Apple, Google, and Facebook led the world in Apps, and in an interview they stated that Killer Apps will have such a great impact it would have to come from outside their business framework – that it would come from a new entity that could pivot fast, accelerate, see so far beyond any tech giant it could not be bought out or copied, and would be worth $1.4 trillion as it expanded to influence governments, media, health, defense, Cloud, and education.  In a chance meeting in Century City, I found out I was way ahead of Apple in my vision.   

By then I had spent many years helping orphans in Asia. From Korea to Thailand, I devoted any extra time and money to this cause.  In my travels, I got first look at how China would rise as an entertainment leader of the world.  Their Social Media giants Tencent and Alibaba were more impressive than Facebook.  I saw the future.  Knowing Hollywood would betray China like it did all previous foreign nations in deals, in 2015/16 I spent 10 months crisscrossing Asia.    I gave away my knowledge to confidentially help some funding sources get around problems and negotiate better deals or write better screenplays.   

Bitcoin made its debut in 2008, and I was in Japan around that time, so I tracked it. Year after year, I kept wondering when someone would announce the obvious:  the true potential of Blockchain, and what was required to achieve that lofty goal.   By 2017, I realized no one knew what they were involved with – not really.   It was my research into Killer Apps that gave me the advantage. When combined with knowledge of Hollywood and experience in Asian nations, and what I learned about global Markets from my Father, I realized no one could match what I could deliver and prove.  I altered my professional path beyond just film to technology. 

The clarifying moment came when I realized in 2018 that we were creating an organism-environment and for the first time we could be aware we are doing it.  Already I knew the potential of Blockchain could only be realized if it was built on a “grand Philosophy” that merged Eastern and Western Philosophy.   This was the only way to ensure Virtues and breakthroughs on a higher level if and only if this all started with original organism that were “exactly right” and did not deviate from this.  A good analogy is that our Universe exists only because a couple dozen Laws, Rules, Constants, Planck Units, and elements allow the Fields that create reality.   They all work in concert, entangled and emergent.   So it must be with Blockchain.    

Crypto-Integrity-Tao presents the reality created by the proper balance of Philosophy, Scientific Proofs and Hypothesis, Strategy, method of engaging through Media, the actual White Matter in the Media tidepool, and essential starting technology elements soon to be released.   This works in tandem with Creativity First Films which will deliver the games, Apps, films, and more immersive Media that delivers the rewards to young users.  This is “spirit.”

Yet, it all streams back to joy … something experience within us … unique to each person … and one of the most powerful mediums for scale of all this is the Entertainment arena.   Complex visions and Sciences are delivered in films and media for decades, in simplified forms it becomes actually fun to experience and adapt.  Therefore, it comes to the point now …  I present to everyone the expanse of my discoveries, simplified into the most magnificent force in civilization: “Story.”    

Scott Hadley Morgan
Author of C.I.T. Analysis
Award-Winning Director-Writer of Film
Creator of Crypto-Integrity Tao and Creativity First Films

17SHANGHAI STORY
Click to enlarge
16-SINGAPORE
Click to enlarge

SCOTT MORGAN

Director/Producer/Writer

Filmography

Scott Morgan spent over 25 years working in film production for 25 years, primarily as a screenwtiter, then moved up to Director and Producer.    His work advanced under the mentorship of several Entertainment Industry Icons.    

The last five years, Morgan has devoted to the healthy union of the Hollywood and Chinese film and media markets, which now steers the future of all media investment and consumption.   His opening of a studio hub in Singapore begins his process of deal making with China for Hollywood productions.    

“My credits aren’t big …

but my vision formed through experience — mighty.”

DIRECTOR+PRODUCER

PLAYING SOLITAIRE

(35mm Film)

Winner Best Director

Los Angeles and New York Film and Video Festival, 2004

Winner Best Short Film, Las Vegas

Winner Best Actress – Liz Hyun, Las Vegas

CLUB FIJI

Sitcom Pilot

Hi-Definition Comedy Pilot – 2006

SAM N’ ELLA’S

Sitcom Test Pilot

THE VIOLENT KIND

Feature Film

Hi-Definition Feature Film – 2003

First To Combine Animation with Hi-Def Action

CRACK-WHORE DODGE BALL

Sketch Comedy, Two Skits, 20 Minutes

Hi-Definition Television Comedy Format

BOXING GOD

35 mm Short Film, 14 minutes

on

What Drives Us To Create?

SCREENWRITER

Playing Solitaire – Film

The Quest – Jean Claude Van Damme First Draft

Cupid’s Bow – Test Pilot, 2 Episodes

Club Fiji – Pilot, 3 Episodes

Sam N’ Ella’s – Test Pilot

Boxing God – Short Film

The Violent Kind

Mentionable Hollywood Icon Clients and Mentors

Freddie Fields – Glory, American Gigolo

Barry London – Co Chairman of Paramount Pictures

Formerly repped by ICM, Gersch, Justin Dardis, William Morris

Hospital Hell

I returned to Vietnam, excited to complete my final efforts. I had chosen a trio to help. In Vietnam, many husbands leave wifes and kids for younger girls. But alot of it is the desire to escape the burden of support.

I had met Vicki, Vietnam name of Tham. She looked 12-14 but was 17. She spoke perfect English and was selling postcards on the street, which is pretty low to Viets. She took me to her old home area, District 5, bordering the Chinatown slums. You’ll see pictures. Her mother decided she did not want to work so she pulled Tham from school. I met Tham’s teacher, and he said that she was one of his best students in the Internet and English and Chinese. Then Tham introduced me to her friends, not to help them, but to show me how real Viets live. But I met the coolest kids and adults. One mother and girl bonded with me immediately. The girl is 4. You’ll see pics. She has no dad so her shyness and then desire for familiarity was clearly presented. So I came back to set up a bank account for them. I told them I would send them 25 dollarars each week. The mother must spend it with the right respect. My interprettor layed down some rules, now what to spend it on, how much tro dedicate to a savings account. Anyone who knows how bad I am at managing money will laugh when they hear I gave advice. This is enough money to ensure the girl goes to school, and a dentist, which is simply not done here. Teeth are rotting black by 20. Some is due to candy or raw sugar cane the kids eat or drink as a sweet drink. The mother already knew the girl should not develop a taste for it. But she promised not to let the daughter eat any. And she got a toothbrush, and must teach the girl to brush one minute every morning and night. The reason for this is because the successful Viets or Chinese as much as they can restrict all top jobs for Viets with good teeth so as not to give a bad impression to tourists or foregin investors. The child must learn English, Chinse,and Japanese in school, ,and the Internet. In the six days I was gone, the girl had already learned to say about 5 sentences to me. I then took the girl on her first shopping spree. That meant buying two outfits, two shoes of slightly larger sizes, and some other clothes. She had to go to my hotel with me and my translator Tham. This is the first time she had ventured out of District 5. She’d never seen such a big foyer, and was amazed it was bigger than her house. We explained to her that over 1,000 people live in this house. She slapped her hand on her head this was such an unbelievable idea. And, she loved the smell, which is the smell of “clean.” The bathroom was an adventure to her. Then she was taken home and I had to leave. All day long I was suffering intense hot flashes and 60 seconds of nausea. I was afraid I had some bacteria in me. But after two hours of deep nap, I woke up all right. Most nights, 4-5 hours.

Now, on this morning, a Concierge had clipped out a picture that appeared in the paper of a little boy who had a tumor growing over his eye. It made him temporarily blind, but if not cut out, would kill him. He needed donations for a 10,000 dollar surgery. So I figured I would find a translator and go. I had an address the newspaper provided. This is what happened. Brace yourself.

The address was a hospital. When we drove up in a taxi, I was surprised to see that it was a fortress with a 12 foot steel wall and barb wire top around it. The guards looked at me with amazement that I was going in. I felt this was just the usual Viet surprise at help. The translator looked nervous. She showed the picture to a person working there. I saw people watching me in a strange way. We were pointed to this one building. Third floor. As I came close, I saw inside, and felt that idea that flashes through you moments before something bad happens, like a car accident. As I entered, the smell blew away anything repulsive I’ve smelled in my life. It was the smell of infection. People, dozens, sleeping in not just in the halls on towels, but in the stairs. They reached up as I walked past. When we got on the third floor, which was an exercise in perserverence, I found myself in the tumor and chemo ward. Two nurses for hundreds. No medicine. They just listen to pain all day. The nurse hurried to us. The translator explained, but the Nurse interrupted and told her I must get out of there as quickly as I can without running. When we hit the stairs, I saw why. Word had spread an American was there. They must have thought I was a doctor. The stairs were a rising sea of people in misery. For the first time in my trip, on the last day, I found myself realizing I was in a very bad situation. This was going to get worse. As I walked down, they reached out. As I did not slow down, they clutched at my clothes. The stairs felt like an insane asylum to me. My only concern became my escape, and keeping their hands away from my face.

We hit the open square. What I saw looked like Night of the Living Dead. People who could not move fast were gravitating toward me. I had 100 yards to cross to the guard, who had no desire to step off his safe zone. Others waited for me to make it that far. I realized the wall was to keep these people away from sight and the general public. As I neared the gate, desperation for my attention grew, and the crowd became more driven. My poor interprettor was embarrassed for her people and a bit afraid, but more for me. I finally made it to the guard stand. The guards then surged up to separate me from the people clinging to me. As I sqeezed out the door, several slipped through in my wake. One of them was the boy I was searching for. As I got into a taxi, I shoved 10 dollars into his hand. Other hands shoved in the open window, clinging to me if they could, until the taxi drove off. I embarrassed myself by taking out the sterilzing disinfectant and scrubbinng my whole body with it — face and hair too. My clothes too. Luckily I had not gone close to the wards that were not broken bones or non infectious disease. You never, ever want to visit this place, or if you come to Asia, you MUST buy emergency evacuation insurance. Never let yourself be put in a hospital. Never. I do not think an American would live a week here. No sanitation. An operation? Forget it. Die intact. I saw scars shown to me to slow me down and give pity, across chests, on stomachs or hips, or necks, huge tumors growing out of month old surgical wounds — it was beyond what any movie could conjur up. Joyce insisted I get travel emergency insurance, and now I am glad and know why.

In Apocalypse Now, Brando’s last words were “the horror … the horror.” Of war. I have seen the horror of overpopulation. Of a country of people so populous that they cannot care for their sick. From this Dante’s Inferno of hospital hell, will spread the plague that will kill hundreds of millions. I see it clearly. Hundreds. Not thousands. But hundreds of millions. I cannot imagine how they slowed SARS at all. This was not a bad hospital it was a normal one. I am so thankful that Joyce shot me up with just about everything, and that I had the disinfectant on me. I feel fine, three days later. But will see her for a full check up just to be safe.

I do not know what line was crossed, what mental wall broke down that is there solidly with orphans, but not with the people in the hospital. The orphans had a sense of self, or even of ego and pride. They would not rush me, paw at me. But this was lost in these people. The Viets are strong. But all was lost within those walls. Now I see a bit clearer when the Viets are baffled by a Westerner “choosing” who to help. How little we know, how much we think we know. Our confusion is obvious, yet we think not … naturally.

I am back on a plane now. Will land in a day.

For the first time on this trip, after the hospital, I say be thankful for what you do not ever have to know, more so than what thanks you have for what you think you know. The fish who lead must have a degree of callousness, a desired blindness, for those fish lost at the end of the school to the Great Predator, Hopelessness.

Thailand Orphans

The Internet was down on my last days in Bangkok in my hotel. So I could not inform you all of my trip to the orphans until today. In part because the Internet here at the Sofitel would not connect to Hotmail for some reason. The following is not a pretty picture, though overall it should not leave me, and you, repulsed or even with pity. It is just the way it is, not just here, but other places. Realize when you are reading this that it was never meant in the beautiful balance of nature for all of us to tread water at the top of the lake. Some make homes on the bottom of the lake. Which is an analogy I like. For if the excesses of the upper classes of the world pollute the streams, the ones touched least are those in the dark bottom. Their life makes them much better survivors then we would probably be, though I hope we never have to find out. I’ll open this door to their lives for you.

As I mentioned, I decided to go to the orphans that very few others go to. I chose to go to the two orphanages that are on an island. I guess you could liken it to a leper island, in consideration that you cannot freely go there or get off the island, and the people are put their for their own hope of a near-normal life as much as to keep them from others. But the island is just a quarter mile from the mainland. The first orphanage was built to house children born deformed or “incomplete.” The other is for orphans who would be found in other orphanages by their pimps or brutal parents. Thailand has a very good infastructure to aid orphans and the people we call disabled, which they call in the categories that fit them: deformed, retarded, mental, crippled, etc. There is no room for political correctedness. The kids don’t even like it. They know they are different, and want a classification to identify as their own, because it helps them rise above it. It is a Thai tradition to give a little bit of charity, so the regular donations help the government support them.

On the first day I was on the water, it was very choppy, and so hot and humid it was unbearable. But on this day, I lucked out. They cut a sort of plant along the river regularly, and it floats on top of the water, reducing the waves. So the ride was easy. Hot, but easy.

When I arrived, I was surprised to see what looked like a Southern California grade school. Very well put together. No trash. All kids in uniform, except the most deformed that could not fit clothes. You will see downloaded pictures soon. Not at all like Vietnam orphanages with dirt floors and broken buildings that almost looked bombed out. I was lucky in that my visit coincided with “Children’s Day” which is like our Mother’s Day. My treats became special gifts for them. I was told that I could not afford to help all the children because of the sheer numbers. I was advised to pick five to help, that had a chance to leave the orphanage at 18 and find a good job. I was disappointed I could not make enough impact on so many to help them all, but their advice was correct.

The first orphanage holds approximately 394 (I think that number is right) severely deformed children. In Thailand, there is a drink that women can drink to abort a baby. Only the poor use it, because it can kill the mother. Prostitutes are forced to drink it often by husbands that are living off their sex trade. If the baby does not pass through miscarriage, it is born with unimaginable deformities. The most common are legs and arms that resemble crab legs, very long. Others have misshapen heads. Soft bones is what they call it when others are born with arms that grow in strange twists. When I walked into the open cafeteria, where about 250 of these kids were together celebrating, the vision hit me like a wave. In the US I had been to a handicap school. Nothing prepared me for this. You can’t smile, you can’t cry or look away. Everywhere, everywhere … no visual escape from it. It took me a full five minutes for my brain to settle down. I was near where all the kids roll up for their presents, so they all checked me out as much as I checked them out. After videotaping and talking with directors, I went on to the small classrooms in the other building. They divide the classes into mental development, so 4 year olds might be with 15 year olds, learning to draw, or speak, or write. They form cliques. Many could walk. I watched several waiting for a friend who climbed the stairs more slowly. When he kicked off a shoe in a spastic attempt to reach the next stair, they all cracked up laughing and so did he. Another one came down to put on the shoe, and they eventually made it up both flights. The ones with able minds have a chance. I saw a boy about 12 with a torso bottom like a squid who drew comic drawings as amazing a Frazetta. Their art room is as impressive as a mini gallery, with most drawing sharing the concept of peace with nature. They all have wheelchairs. The ones who can somehow walk on their limbs dedicate their whole lives sometimes to pushing a friend who cannot roll his or her own chair. You will see a boy with a head bulging and back humped bend low to frequently lift the crab arm of his friend back onto his lap so that when he rolls it does not get caught in the spokes. And the one pushing you can see has pride he can do so. They passed out hats and a toy to each child that was mentally able to understand the day. Some of these kids don’t really grow up, but instead just squash out to fill their chairs if they have soft bones. But they are all clean, with fresh clothes, due in part to the large staff of slightly deformed who chose to stay on here and clean beds, clothes, and each other. Then I went to the part of the orphanage that is “hard to see.” It is where the children cannot manage any controlled movement enough to get by. I was led to a two-part room about the size of a 4 car garage. Lying on two mat configurations were children born with both mental and physical deformities. They appeared like squid, about 20 in one group, about 12 in another, tightly together and overlapping. Their eyes rolled around in their sockets, their mouths drooled, their limbs appeared useless. But I was wrong. After spending some time down on their level, I saw that they were taking care of each other. I watched one slowly, with great determination, crawl over the two feet to another friend and put his leg under his head so that the other could see and breathe better. Others were communicating with each other, helping feed or just touch with a purpose. I saw another spend ten minutes helping another one sit up so they could hold on to each other. Two managed to get onto a swing. But my favorite was a boy that at first I thought had no control over almost violent swinging back and forth of his shoulders. and he would repeatedly jam two or three fingers into his mouth. He was blind, but otherwise mostly formed correctly. But then the teacher pointed out he was sitting between two speakers. He was DANCING. He could not walked, but loves the music. Then I saw his face was not in anguish, but pleasure because this was his dance hour.

After this two hours, I picked one boy who had soft bones. His name is Jammee. He is a computer wiz at 12. He was very peaceful. And met me and learned that I would pay so he could go to a normal school. He was very happy, but kind of timid and nervous he would gross me out. He has left the orphanage before and knows more about his difference than most. Biut we got along well, and I let him return to playing “bump the wheelchairs” with the other kids.

After that, I went on to another boat. This one took me to the island where kids who ran away from brutality, or from their pimps, or drug addict parents, would gosothat they could not be found. A 25 year old crippled computer wiz was teaching a class of 14 girls computer skills. The rule is, once you come here, you cannot leave until you graduate with a skill. So they learned either computer,hairdressinng,fine sewing,or English translator degrees. There was an area for single mothers, many of them prostitutes that ran away instead of taking the abortion drink. I adompted one of them, which means giving $30 month so they put it in a savings account so when they leave they can pay one year of rent. That is a lot of money to them.I also adopted the one girl who was best in her class in the computer, and was learning Java. The class of girls who formerly were pimped by their parents or a stranger ranged in ages of 10-20. They were not kept apart from the others, but their history made them more natural friends. I did not see much AIDS on the skin, maybe 4 cases. Most were hidden in their own area I was not allowed to visit.

By the time I left, I was exhausted. WE had bought new clothes, enough for 40 kids, and candy and cookies to break the ice. The heat and constant need to stay on top of translation really wears on you. That night, I treated myself to a great buffet at the Penninsula, which is kind of funny now that I think of it. My biggest meal after seeing this.

In the long run,there are four people I am sponsoring: Jammee with the soft bones, the girl computer whiz that I think is called Deek. A three year old girl living at a house of one of the directors. And another boy. that was away in a normal school. Some will get more than others. A step back from the experience, I do not feel pity. Or greatly changed. More informed and perhaps evolved. Maybe it just puts the world in a slightly clearer perspective. Maybe it shows me the smallness that one person can do in such a populated world. The constant daily attention to translating my goal into a reality among people who need so much was slowly wearing me down. In addition, as a foreigner, you’re always trying to understand in a cultural way what is going on. I would have waves of hot flashes, or nausea, or body aches that I prayed were not the first signs of a serious illness. Bujt I realize after my first full night of sleep that it was fatigue. So many things I wanted to do and people I wanted to interact with made for a day that started at about 7 and ended at midnight. And I think that seeing this poverty or human frailty breaks down the protective ego or some other mental department that allows our bodies to concentrate on work or sublime goals or even just our selfish demands on the world, our bosses, our friends. Slowly, that erodes. And you are just kind of raw and moving through a kaleidescope that you do not even WANT to see unscrambled some of the time. Other times, you flight to pull it into focus, so you can stop feeling so damn different, because the point is, I am not. I just have a little more money. The poor were as compassionate as I was, as vulnerable. lBut closer to it all. And they were fascinanted with what I was doing. Our understanding of charity is a luxury that they cannot truly feel because they lack our guilt, our successes, and our awareness of the world. I do not feel any need to do this attached to the Vietnam war. I guess the best is way to describe the different concept of charity is this. To them, charity comes from the vague, subconscious realization that we’re all suffering together, some more than others, but at the same time, none of us is suffering or focusing on suffering. This is life. This is our world and we want to make our piece of it a better place. To us, we see — “you’re suffering” so I will help. But if I were to ask who is a happier people, it would be a tough choice. Maybe their happiness is rooted in ignorance. So that makes it a Faustian play in a few levels. The Second Book of Faust was written by Goethe, considered by many to be one of the most genius men to ever live. He spent time in an asylum as his desire to translate what his mind knew into what others can understand drove me into fits of insantiy. Goethe was the only doctor in town. The people worshipped him, and felt he must be so happy, beyond their understanding of the word, because he was intelligent and rich. But he was unhappy because he realized that the more he knew, the more he would be aware that compared to God,he knew relatively nothing. And even worse, was that he could not explain what he knew well enough to the people to lift them from ignorance. His world was tortured knowing he could never find total happiness. So the devil appeared after betting God that in three lives, he could trick Faust into saying that he was fulfilled. Faust was tricked, but God saved him. We are Faust. They are the happy. But we can find our moments of fulfillment and still not have to forsake our hard earned knowlege and evolution as a capable, smart, competing human with a soul and a conscience. They joy they feel in Viet life is all around us. But some of us are not destined to feel it. Just as some of them will never know easy food,or good doctors, or the world.

Now Vietnam is so different from Thailand. It is my favorite Asian country,ahead of the ones I visited: China, Hong Kong, Macau, and Singapore. The people are amazingly exciting to be around. Scientists discovered recently that in a school of fish, the same fish always lead. I thought that was a given. But others are better adept at dodging predators, some at eating food after it’s been spun around be the school ahead of them, others like to watch behind them. The lead fish though know the terrirory best. We know the world. We are the lead fish. They want us to be the lead fish. And are proud to be good following fish. They want to surpass expectations of them. And other countrie

Thailand is not at all the same feel as Vietnam. I missed the Viet people when I leave but not the Thais. The Thais are so tourist oriented that it’s kind of like visiting any tourist trap. Not so sincere. A little impatient and pissed. But always smiling. The Viets are truly fascinated and excited about the world they are just now allowed to know about. And they want to have fun with the new wave of visitors. So I decided to cut short my stay in Bangkok and return to the motorcycle jammed streets of Saigon. Overall, if I were to describe the overall effect of this trip on me, I would say it made me feel younger. Discovery … adventure …. adaptation … thrill … novelty … wonder … innocent joy …. so easy to forget as you age, overwhelm someone with the desire and stamina to indulge in it.

That is probably a good place to end this e mail on Thailand.

Another text will describe what I did upon my return to Vietnam. Be prepared for a story that makes the Thai experience with the deformed kids in Thailand seem like a pleasant dream.

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