Wisdom has built her house; she has hewn out its seven pillars.  She has prepared her meat and mixed her wine; she has also set her table (Proverbs 9:1-2).

If I had an unlimited supply of investors, I would like to develop a night club in Amsterdam and call it Club Wisdom.  Ideally, we'd buy up the Concertgebouw -- the city's massive orchestral theater -- and trick it out with all the coolest lights and sound system accessories on today's market.  The building is situation on one of the city's main thoroughfares, too, across from the broad, grassy field of the Museumplein, and it's surrounded on every side by monumental buildings like the Rijksmuseum, the Van Gogh Museum, the Stedelijk Museum, and a handful of important diplomatic embassies.  In the midst of such grandeur, Club Wisdom would command an audience.  The building itself has massive stone pillars stretching up from the street to the gilded triangular gable -- making it immediately reminiscent of a great Greek temple.  Perfect, really, for a place like Club Wisdom.

At night, we'd have seven high-powered, high-intensity spotlights to blast columns of light up into the clouds.  From anywhere in the city, thus, the columns of light could beckon crowds of clubbers every night (but especially on the weekends).  We'd play a blend of world music -- wise music.  We'd have a top-of-the-line bar fully stocked and serviced by experienced bartenders able to serve the highest quality mixed drinks and a small-but-extremely-fine selection of hors d'ouevres.  And here's the real kicker:  entrance to the club, drinks, and hors d'ouevres would all be completely free.  Club Wisdom would open its doors every night and let the masses pour in (which is why, of course, such a large venue as the existing Concertgebouw would be necessary).  It would be the coolest, freshest, finest club in all of Europe -- coming to be known as a tourist destination in and of itself.

There'd only be one condition for entrance to Club Wisdom:  club patrons would be required to leave their simple ways and forfeit all rights to enter other clubs and concert halls in Amsterdam.

This sacrifice, honestly, would not be too great -- getting to experience all the finest in music, refreshments, and entertainment for absolutely no cost -- but it would be a firm prerequisite for any visitors to Club Wisdom.  The experience of Club Wisdom would thus become exclusive.  And perhaps other clubs around Amsterdam would figure out means of counter-promotion:  ratcheting up the volume of their public relations, individual marketing, offering stolen and secret pleasures... But if anyone would dare to join the party at Club Wisdom, they would never desire to go anywhere else or dabble in the foolishness of those simple ways ever again.  Surely, though, such an experience as Club Wisdom would take the city of Amsterdam by storm, wouldn't it?  Wouldn't you try to be one of the first in line for entrance to Club Wisdom?  Or not?