The authorities – Zeus and Hades – half-heartedly questioned the legitimacy of my new enterprise, but I reminded them that I was still carrying out my sentence to the letter and that I was not bound by it to forgo anything that did not interfere with my perpetual task. They grudgingly permitted me to go on collecting money; later, they warmed up to the idea as they saw its evident benefits for them. My spectators were so absorbed in watching my performance – discussing it, arguing about it, placing bets on how fast I would get the rock to the top this time or whether I would choose this path or that – that they found no time to complain about Hades’ regime or to riot against it. If you are wondering from where the later Roman emperors took their “bread and circuses” approach, this was it.

          Among Achilles’ friends who were present was Odysseus, whose business sense was as sharp as always. He approached me on one of my descents and offered to act as my proxy and general manager in exchange for a cut of the spectator fees. He could roam freely about the underworld, so he would actually be able to put my earnings to use. After I reached one thousand ascents – for which I received thunderous applause – I had enough money to hire a crew of laborers to pave some of my favorite boulder paths. Later, I had several ramps built for moving the boulder upward, and then several slides down which the boulder would roll to a predictable location. Then I commissioned an awning over the ramps to protect me from the frequent harsh winds and dust. As a result, I was able to accomplish my ascents faster and with less exertion. More was expected of me, of course, and the next ten thousand ascents were accomplished about as quickly as my first one thousand. But the spectator fee was per ascent, so my revenues increased – and the spectators’ interest increased as well. Now they could also speculate about what gadgets I would install on the mountain next, whether they would work, and by how much they would speed up each ascent.

          Eventually, the great heroes – Hercules, Jason, and Theseus – got the idea that it would be profitable for them to compete with me – hoping perhaps to draw some of my crowd and revenue to them. They tried to find other mountains and other rocks, and use boulder-upward-rolling as an opportunity to show off their strength, muscularity, and bravado. Odysseus and I decided to initiate an aggressive brand-name marketing campaign. We became the Sisyphus Rock Rolling Company (SRRCo), with the slogan, “If it isn’t Sisyphus, it doesn’t roll.” Granted, my competitors managed to retain a niche following, but they – having started later – did not have nearly enough capital to match my operations. I began offering my spectators additional perks and amenities – food and drink vendors, bards, dramatic reenactments of my ascents, opportunities to spend a day with Sisyphus, and even Sisyphus action figures for those who came to the underworld as children. In terms of advertising power, the muscles of Hercules could not even compare.

          By the time I finished my one-millionth ascent, I got word from newly arriving shadows that the Industrial Revolution had taken place in the world of the living. I used my now vast fortune to hire James Watt, Thomas Edison, and Henry Ford; their skills enabled me to revamp my operations entirely. I added conveyer belts to my ramps and ordered a plethora of construction vehicles powered by internal combustion engines. One of these had a giant claw in front that enabled it to grasp the boulder and move it upward while I sat in the driver’s seat. I was still moving the rock – in the sense that I was pushing the buttons and my money was purchasing all the equipment used. Besides, the Gods did not mind. Their power had diminished to the point where virtually nobody believed in them or carried out their commands anymore; they were pleased to have someone of my prominence heeding their decrees in even the remotest sense.

          When mobile homes began to emerge during the twentieth century, I commissioned a rather extravagant mansion on wheels, with a claw attached so that it could still move the boulder. Once electronic systems became sufficiently advanced, I automated most of the mansion’s movements. This created considerable leisure time for me. Spectators continued to come to the mountain – no longer so much for the boulder rolling but for the technological variety and material splendor to be found there. Tourism flourished, and I encouraged the construction of unusual monuments, restaurants, hotels, museums, and parks – most of which I owned. Banking was well-established in the underworld by then, and I ensured the automatic growth of my fortune by simply putting much of it into certificates of deposit. I connected most of my property to the Internet and used it to purchase stocks and market products in the world of the living. You would be surprised to learn how many of your world’s businesses I indirectly control.

          I am happier now than when I was King of Corinth. Monarchical power, in retrospect, is not much in an impoverished ancient world. The life of a prosperous private citizen is the one for me. Before, I tried to cheat Death by remaining in the world of the living; now I recognize that, whatever world one finds oneself in, it is possible to create a life there through hard work, will, and imagination. There are some who would suggest that the meaning of life is to strive after unattainable ideals and to fight those who disagree with one’s conception of those ideals. You see where that got Achilles and Hercules and the rest of them. I say the meaning of life is to find one’s rock and keep rolling it upward!