Throughout the book, Dolnick cheerily insists that her aims are serious: "this *is* a business book," she writes, "and I'm not going to demand that you meditate." But you'd be better off meditating -- nearly everything else that she recommends borders on the insane. In her catalog of the absurd, Dolnick uses every faddish pseudoscience from graphology to witchcraft to feng shui to astrology, laced with random smatterings of American Indian and eastern philosophies. There's advice here on how to choose the perfect crystals and how to create a "psychic mirror" to ward off curses that people might put on you. There's pure superstition: "I try to avoid doing business when I see a horseshoe hung for bad luck (gap side down)." There are pages and pages of advice on which fabrics and colors to wear for different psychic purposes (avoid polyester and orange), and somehow it all has something to do with your seven "power centers," which get clogged and have to be "cleared" by rubbing them with sea salt.
There are warnings that bad people get what's coming to them: "note Michael Milken's battle with prostate cancer."! And she tells the scary story of a "highly competitive female broadcasting executive" with "a reputation for having no heart" whose child was born with a heart condition. "Coincidence?" Dolnick writes. "Maybe, but not likely." With disarming informality, Dolnick explains how to build a "negativity deflector" ("Wear red or silk undershirts for protection"); how to "conjure" a parking space (send a "clear psychic message"); and how to make an audience "calm, relaxed, and reasonable" (sprinkle some lavender around a room). She advises that you stay away from "dolls, pins, and chicken bones." One priceless passage discusses "our psychic heritage," which is apparently influenced by not only our ancestors but by our past lives -- "if you choose to believe in reincarnation." Get that? If you don't choose to believe, then it's not true.
No book like this would be complete without a few look-ahead stock tips, so there's a section on "executive oracles" -- tarot cards, a favorite book, the "I Ching," playing cards. "Can an oracle be wrong?" she asks. "Yes. Not often, but yes." Those sound like betting odds. And you can trust Dolnick: "One of my talents is in astrology and tarot reading," she writes. "I can recall seeing a layoff in one client's future, and then helping to prevent it." Then there *wasn't* a layoff, right? Some talent.
It's almost unimaginable that someone could be smart and capable enough to reach the executive ranks and then fall for this superstitious hooey. There'll be some, though, and they'll be easy enough to detect: They're the ones trying to be unobtrusive while rubbing sea salt on their foreheads, brandishing smoldering "smudge sticks" made of sage, and muttering incantations while carefully placing crystals about the office. And their red silk undershirts will be peeking out.