__ UPDATA __
__ A Different Kind of Network: 'Crazy Fred' Expands His Reach __
More than two years after we last checked in on Frederick Lenz, his web continues to expand. The 46-year-old cult leader (nicknamed Crazy Fred in high school) who has variously declared himself a messenger of Vishnu, an avatar of Shiva, Atmananda, and Zen Master Rama changes tacks as frequently as he changes spiritual identities.
Conflict may be the only constant for Lenz, whose expanding empire has been met with a chorus of criticism about his penchant for controlling the lives and incomes of his young and impressionable followers. Last year, Warner Books dropped plans to publish Lenz's book, Surfing the Himalayas: A Spiritual Adventure, after learning of his cult activities. (The manuscript was picked up by St. Martin's Press and later savaged by critics.)
Yet the book constitutes a mere fraction of Lenz's recent output. His true calling du jour lies in the business arena. Indeed, the erstwhile "Yuppie Guru" is hatching new business ventures both domestically and abroad. He told a small group in Los Angeles, which had shown up for a book signing, "I'm just a computer-software designer, a businessman."
It doesn't end there. According to splashy advertising spreads in publications such as Rolling Stone, Lenz has again reinvented himself this time as a "composer/producer." The ultra-glossy shots reveal a chicer, hipper Lenz who has apparently given himself a complete makeover (his jaw is set with the self-satisfied cockiness of a seasoned rock star and he sports the obligatory sunglasses and leather jacket).
According to Jim Picariello, a devout Lenzie who left the cult a little more than two years ago, "initially, people joined seeking compassion, but came to learn that Lenz's brand of spiritualism was equated with money and power." Fear and "phobia indoctrination" were Lenz's means of manipulation, Picariello claims, adding that monthly meetings with Lenz were a "karmic slate cleaning whether you'd screwed someone over, or lied on your résumé Š Lenz wiped your slate totally clean." But, says Picariello, Lenz also warned his youthful acolytes about the horrific "slap back" they'd receive if they left the cult: a karmic punch in the form of cancer, a fatal car accident, even insanity.
TeamAlliance, TeamSource, Client/Server Connection, Wall Street Forecasts Ltd., Retail Forecasting Systems Inc., and Interglobal Seminars Inc. form only a partial list of the companies bearing Lenz's name or fingerprints. What clients of these companies often don't realize, according to some who have retained their services, is that Lenz stays in close contact with these employees, who report directly to him or his high-level emissaries.
A self-proclaimed Buddhist, Lenz looks every bit the mogul, with bodyguards, two estates, a fleet of cars, and chartered jets. Perhaps industry watchdog Wendy Vandame, editor of New Jersey's Consultants' and Contractors' Newsletter, has stated it most plainly: "It's more than a cult story. Now it's big business."
- Kristin Spence
__ [Original story in Wired 2.01, page 52.] __
__ Crypto Catalog __
The book the National Security Agency wanted never to be published has been published again and it's better than ever.
Two years ago, Bruce Schneier produced Applied Cryptography, a megavolume of codes, techniques, and politics that leveled the playing field, giving everyone access to the best cryptographic algorithms and analysis available. This information was formerly relegated to obscure academic papers, élite conferences, and NSA files.
With the second edition, Schneier has done it again. Nearly 50 percent longer than the original, this volume contains algorithms from the former Soviet Union and South Africa, the latest on Clipper, digital signatures, and digital cash even detailed case histories. It's an unparalleled education in cryptography. [Original story in Wired 2.11, page 126.]
[Original story in Wired 2.11, page 126.]
__ Secret Agents __
General Magic started when a small cadre of Apple refugees set out to develop machines that would do grunt work for their master like sifting through mountains of data to find the right answer. The company may have begun with the Web, but it first looked for answers via its expensive little communicators, which do clever things such as buy theater tickets or make business appointments through the innovative Telescript platform.
Now Telescript speaks the language of the Net. It can send out personal agents over the Web to compare pages or select information from them. One demo, currently up on the company site (www.genmagic.com), sends an agent hunting around the real-estate listings for the perfect home. Meanwhile, would-be code masters are downloading the free prerelease of Telescript tools to make their own Web agents.
[Original story in Wired 2.04, page 102.]
__ Sats Are Out, Cells Are In __
More than 150,000 truckers in the US use satellite or cellular communications to manage the logistics of keeping their rigs full and on the road. But where most companies tout complex war rooms as their nerve centers, HighwayMaster Corp.'s marketing materials show a driver talking to his family on a cell phone.
Truckers can receive calls and dial out from their cabs for about 53 cents per minute. Granted, that's a bit more than you'd plunk down at a pay phone, but as drivers are paid for literally every minute they're on the road, the costs do even out. In a business with a constant shortage of drivers, many long-haul companies believe that keeping employees happy is just as important as keeping them efficient. And cell phones may be the perfect solution.
Considering possible advantages of HighwayMaster's cell network versus rival Qualcomm's satellite system, Parry Desmond, executive editor of Commercial Carrier Journal, says, "There's no difference in how well each system carries data, but HighwayMaster aggressively markets its voice capability as a warm-and-fuzzy thing."
[Original story in Wired 3.01, page 118.]
