I venture to say that the 1940's will go down in future ancient history as one of the most violent decades of the century prior to the Age of Information. Carnage dominated throughout, would continue througout the remainder of the century in a series of 'police actions' and 'coup de tats' that would leave the world in righteous riot, clawing at each other's jugulars by the end of the Millenia. Humanity was warned five-thousand years ago that this would be the case, this of the chaos coming to climax at the turn of the second milenia from the death of the avatar Christ. Everything was foretold, yet humanity harbored the capability, however latent, to alter history at any time, but instead insisted on one final apoplectic apocalypse, one last ugly holocaust prior to the End of Time. "What the hell. It' Fate. It's destiny." This was the attitude of the world leaders at the time. They all just chalked it up to Fate, and that was that. This will make them fools in the eyes of history, of course. Because even though things will change, history will continue. It's written in the molecules, now and forever. T'was ever thus, I guess, but there's always hope. Lots and lots of hope. Love, hope and the pursuit of happiness, that's what keeps humans going forward, that's what organized them from the muck in the first place. That which is God equates to ultimate Wisdom and Love. This is not a possibility, it's a probabiltiy, a potentiality to occur. And a good one, at that. Humans, they harbor the latent potential to become that which is God, to become a single band of light, if that's what they choose to become. Or they can choose anhiliation, an idea they fiddled around with in 1945. 1945 was the Great Reality Check prior to the end of time. It set a fuse to burning. They stand at the crossroads between immortality and self-destruction, with the world leaders thinking of the coming holocaust as unalterable Fate. The Truth, of course, is this: Humans have the potential to do whatever it is their mind tells them they can do. Let me explain: First off, neither the chicken nor the egg came first. Everything became in that hyper-micro-nanosecond that was this particular big bang. Chickens, eggs, men, women, everything was conceived in this incredible moment of expansion some 26 billion years prior. That little, highly-dense piece of matter, washed over by a scalar wave, that was this universe. All of it, matter wise, at least. The energy was a potentiality to occur, which was realized by the scalar wave. Scalar waves are massive waves radition, that create big bangs. That's precisely what happened all those billions of years ago. One moment all the matter in the universe was in one piece, then: BOOM! As I said, that's where this all started. Now, humans are made up of little pieces of this matter and that matter both billions of years old, with all that history written into the code that is the their molecular structure, their architecture, if you will. And this molecular architecture emits a frequency. Frequency is everything. Frequency, in fact, is what binds humans to this particular dimension. Frequency always comes into play on one level or another. It does this because of the molecules whispering between one another, constantly rebuilding the shape of the object, the body, of which the consist. Sort of like like a TV screen, but with three dimensions. We're redrawn in time and space, but much faster than 72 lines per second. Much faster. Humans live much closer to light than they imagine. Indeed. And these molecules, they find the blueprints of the body from the Dianucleic acid, or DNA, which in turn takes orders, makes changes and maintains consistencies, from the RNA, or Ribonucleic acid. RNA, that's what binds us to this particular set of frequencies, commonly known as time and space. But the thing is this: RNA, they're flexible. Really. RNA is the machine language of the human mind and body. It is specifically constructed with spaces betwen the nucleic code that allow for the production of over 10,000 different kinds of Amino Acids, specifically constructed and combined to blend a multitude of acidic outcomes, outcomes that benefit the survivial, the progressive adaptation, the evolution of the being under it's charge. Much of this activity originates in the highest part of the brain know as the Telencephalon, a thin membrane laid gently over the mammailian brain and most active in humans, primates and dolphins. Dolphins actually are a little smarter than humans, but they humor them. Yet in Dolphins I digress. We're talking about humans. The Telencephalon, that's the connection. That's where humanity is headed, day by passing day. The Telencephalon is the transmitter and the receiver of the body and spirit. It's the gateway between the physical and hyperphysical, or transphyscial worlds. The Telencephalon is the way out. It sends and receives the frequency that binds us together, connects everything to that which is God. As I said, frequency, vibration, resonation binds everything. Everything. And to change the being, all you need to do is to learn to change the frequency, learn to access the machine language of the RNA, and change the code, if you will. It's that simple. You do this by focusing, luminating and unattaching, of course. The possibilities, the probabilities, the potentialites are infinite and bounded only by the frequency, by the resonation of the individual. Just like this particular universe. Humans can do that, too. No joke. I'm telling you all this about resonations, because my next avatar, whom I found toddling about on the streets of Liverpool, he would turn out to be something of an oddball, but loveable. He would become a devoted man of Peace, a gifted musician, and a dreamer. A man of the Proper Vibration, if you will. He would be brutally murdered, of course. And it's said that they never shoot the guitar player. Phooey. I found John Lennon playing with a metal hoop on the dirty cobblestone streets of Liverpool. It was 1943, and the war machine was in full swing. Everything was covered with soot, so everyone had to wear black, or be smudge-stained all the time. Everything was black, bleak and depressing in merry, old England. As I said, I found him playing with a hoop, or, rather, the hoop was playing with him. A frail boy, meekish pallor to his pale skin, he looked honed from extraterrestial world. He was dressed in black, aged 3.14 years, of course. I watched him wobbling along the cobblestones. He made me smile. Four pennies left in my pouch, and I now took one from it, leaving three. Three. The sun broke through the clouds momentarily, intense rays of spectral light breaking the gloom, making rainbows and banded chards of bright, unwaivering light. It was beautiful, slightly surreal. I flicked the penny in his direction, he let the hoop roll on and stopped watching the penny flinging the the air. It was a high, lobbing flick. I was getting to be a pretty good flicker, after all these years. We watched the penny together, bonding in the grace and beauty of its flight. It reached a peak, hung for a moment suspended in midair, then began the descent toward his palm, now opening slowly, slightly reticent, somewhat recalcitrant. He caught the penny, closed his hand. His world expanded with the force that created this universe, as usual. "Lovely Lennon the Looney, arise now and become the laughter alive only in the hearts of mistrels, the Egg Man, the Jester Royale', the Shinning Bodhisattva of Liverpool, that's you little Lennon. Picture yourself fast afloat on a river, with perilune seas neath ambergris skies. Some bodhisattva appears right before you, a man with the sky in his eyes. He flicks you a penny, it sails quite slowly, it hangs in the air aloft like a lightwave, then lights in the palm of your hand. Rock and roll bandsmen appear on the scene gyrating over your head, reach for the coin with the ruminant glow and you're gone. "Lennon learning light with laughter. "You're the dreamer of the lot, John, your weight is definitely one of the worst, as it has always been for the prophetic fool. You, my lad King of the Prophetic Fools, teach them what it means to dream, teach them the power of imagination. Never let them forget the love the flows within us all, and that this love is the compliment to the Wisdom of that which becomes God, as two lovers bond and complete the connection between matter and energy, power and ground, negative and positve making the complete and simple circuit, as everlasting peace ensues. Remind them of this peace. You'll not be alone, but you'll be very lonely. Such is the life of any great spirit. Remember now and forever, lucid laughing Lennon, that we're all part of that which is the Great Endpoint the Ultimate Conjunction at which point we all know that which is God, become God, for but a moment, until the Great Expansion comes and we begin the process again. "This has been going on for quite sometime. "And you are now a keeper of the flame. "Keeper of the Dream. "Visionary, Luminary, Dreamer. "Imagine yourself immortal." And then I vanished, leaving him standing there slackjawed, swaying in the sooty-addled wind of Liverpool, as flock of pigeons rose to flight, suddenly, spontaneously, as if startled by a sonic boom. It was something like that, of course, but better. Much better. _ _ _ Being on that side of the globe, and with a few years to kill, as ususal, I swung on down to Israel to speak with Abraham, Father of the Israelites, whom, like Jesus, was sitting on a hilltop in a war-weary country watching the denizens tear each other to shreds. He was a little less sensitive to their plight than Jesus on the surface, but it hurt him deep down, as naughty children hurt any self-respecting parent. It's incredibly embarrassing. So old Abe sat on a hilltop looking out over Tel Aviv, his hand in his beard, rubbing his chin; his wrinkled brow furling in frustration. He was not a happy immortal, never was. "Hello, Abraham," I said. He didn't move. He was stone. "Pi," he said, remaining motionless. Certainly, he was a Father of Stoicism. There were others, of course. "Abe, you obsess over these people for nothing. They will live and learn or die trying. Worry gets you nowhere." "I know." "Then why do you let it bother you?" "Because I made them this way." "It's not your fault." "Fault? It's entirely my fault. I was too hard on them." "You didn't have a choice. All religions are hard on their followers." "Too many rules. Made it simpler for them, that's what I should have done. Allowed them some happiness. Instead I make them obsessive, compulsive and fanatics for revolution, or just downright fatalistic." "All in all, they're a good People, as all are good People. The same problem exists in every society. The symptoms vary, although that, too, is changing." "It didn't have to be this way." "Yes it did. Humans come to understand the truth of fire, which will lead them towards learning light." "And they will," he said. "Indeed." Abraham moved. He was an amazing man of great stature, with big hands, wrinkled face and a long curly, grey beard. He moved like a god, with grace and dignity and the weight of the world heavy upon his back. "When was the last time you travelled?" "The last time I left. The last time I took some time off? The last time I left the place they plastered Jesus on the cross. That was the last time I took time off." "You really ought to get out more." "Why? What's the point? Why should I? It's the same everywhere. You said that. Everywhere you go, more people, more bloodshed, less caring and compassion. Kids play marbles in the chalked-in outlines of the slain that litter the streets daily. Once again, mortals have become desensitized to the plight of their brothers, even about my children, your children . . ." "I don't have any children, yet. I'm a virgin." "Well, you ought to have at least one." "I'll think about it. There's always immaculate conception." "That's for wimps. Bring him in like a man and make him suffer like a man. Have you suffered, Pi?" "Once, before I was three. Since then, the suffering's been there, but it's a different sort of suffering." "Weight of the World?" "Weight of the World." "Aye, we share that, if nothing else." "But all in all, you suffer for awhile, then you get tired of suffering, and you learn, or you sink and start again. That's the way things are." "And they just don't seem to figure that out." "Once more, Rome must fall. Once more those Great Walls must come tumbling down," I said to him, slightly enigmatic. "That's what they said the last time." "Right afterward, if you think back, they said this: 'encore! encore!" "It's a good trick," he said," but a civilization can only do it once." "They do take forever to grow, these civilizations." "It's enough to make you wonder if there's anything going on up there or not," he said. He loosened up a bit, began pacing the plateau. It made me happy to get him away from his perch, if only for a moment. "There's something going on up there. It just takes humans awhile to catch on." "You're being nice." "No, I'm speaking the Truth" "Look at them! Oy guval! This of the rock throwing, this of the shooting, and the bombing. If I hadn't been so headstrong when a young God, I would have made it easier on them, so they'd have a chance. Too many rules. It makes them crazy. Everyone's gone off kilter everywhere. Something's out of whack. I played a part in all that. They'll mention my name when they shoot Rabin fifty years from now. They'd say I'd want it that way. And perhaps that was the way it was to have started, thusly shall it end, with blood in the streets, and perhaps with the streets vaporized all together. What a beautiful way to mark the end of linear time, don't you think?" "It's a probability, not destiny." "It's close enough." "Close doesn't count with atomic holocausts. They either happen or they don't." "The visionaries, they saw it. All the visionaries all the world over saw the same thing happening at the same time. They all wrote about it at the same time. We wrote it for them. Do you remember, Pi?" "I remember as though it were yesterday." "It was, was it not?" "Of course." "Young Gods -- we were such virile, opulent bastards, were we not? Were we not the Masters of the Universe?" "Still are, in our own subtle ways." "Ah, yet we cease to exist in the eyes of humans. Once again they become blinded by the pursuit sedintary pleasures, rather than focusing on the Great Unwaivering Light hovering about them, all encompassing, waiting to take them on to greater levels. Yet still they revel in piles of dung, hidden in towers of stone and glass to shield them, to bind them to the planet, when the real game is beyond. " "Believe me. I know. I'm working on it. I've unleashed a fine set of bright new avatars. Two of them are directly responsible for the beginning and the ending of what they'll call the 'Second World War.'" "Hitler and Einstein." "One to start and one to end. I see you keep up on current events." "I do what I can. This Einstein, though, he gave the world the power to destroy itself." "He smiled when he said it. Look at it this way: Humanity needs to have the option of destroying itself, so it can decide against it. Only then will the world proceed with dignity, grace and vision, or vaporize itself in a giant ball of fire. " "I know that. You know I know that. We've always known that. Dignity, grace and vision, or BOOM! we wrote all that down, word for word, and look at the desctruction wrought from out words, written so long ago. Five thousand years later they use our words to make war. They cry out for the apocalypse as if it were a sporting event." "If it weren't for atomic weapons, they'd be whapping at each other with sticks and rocks for the next ten-thousand years. This way, everything, everybody dies. Nobody wins, or everybody wins. That's part of the deal. That's Universal Love and Wisdom. That's over-coming the beast within with intelligence and loving which leads to ascension, and doing so at any cost. " "That's what I'm afraid of. That's sink or swim. They'll take everybody down, rather than learn to live together. Isn't that just idiotic?" he said, tugging wildly at his beard. "I'm right there with you." "All conception and no vision, that's humans for you. Visions all around them and they stand there, flabbergasted, like sheep caught in the headlights of an on coming train." "Only the smart sheep survive," I said. "That's the way it ought to be." "The smart sheep head for finer pastures." "Like the Mayans." "Good people, the Mayans." "Damn fine People." "They got out." "Everybody, all at once." "That's the best way." "The only people left I imagine, were the ones who couldn't learn light." "And you see what happened to them," he said, slowly working his way back to his stoop looking out over the Promised Land. "Abe, I've got some time. Let's go see the Mayans. I was just there with Jesus around the turn of the century. They've really got it going on. Big, Bright sun, they are, just a few million light years away. The nova they've become is quite spectacular." "I'm sure it is. They were a good People." "So we've said. Let's go see them." "I can't leave. Not until they learn." "There's nothing you can do." "I'll stay and die with them." "That's counter-productive." "The whole damn world's gone counter-productive." "It' a phase." "It's a very dangerous phase." "Granted, but if they can't learn a simple concepts like love and wisdom, well then, let them blow themselves to smithereens. They make that choice. That's Freewill." "I know, I know. See, that's the thing. We made it sound like there was no such thing as Freewill. We made it sound as though there were these rules that one followed, and these rules only, and if you didn't you wouldn't make it. Well, that's wasn't altogether the truth now, was it." "We were young." "But we, everybody, all of us, we screwed things up. That, 'no other god before me', business a few of us wrote in -- that was going to far." "It was necessary for Moses, for Muhammad and whatnot to say that at the time. Their followers were both massive groups of savages in an even more savage land. We had to tell them that. It was the only way to get them through." "The repurcussions of that desert ideology have caused much bloodshed." "Only by self-proclaimed proxy, only by agressive infantile regression." "Call it what you will. The result is the same." "If they can't get through theaevum phase of evolution, then there never was hope for them to begin with," I said, "it's just that simple." "We didn't make it sound that way. We made it sound complicated. It's not complicated. It's the most natural thing for a human to do, yet all this time we've told them that it was next to impossible. That was a foolish error in judgement. Imagine where we'd be if we told them the truth." "They weren't ready for the truth. There would have been total chaos." "There will still be total chaos. All we did was to prolong the agony." "There's a chance. The potential for success exists." "Shrinking into the distance day by day." "Time and Space are relative. You know that. They will make it, as they have always made it. It's the way they're wired. " "Cease to lecture me, Pi. You have your job, your destiny and I have mine. Mine is with the Hebrew race. They aspire to me, and I must always be there for them. I'm their only link with God." "I understand, Abe, you've got your weight. You can't blame me for trying." "You're one of the good Gods, Pi." "I do my best." "If anyone can pull humaity away from the brink, it'll be you." "Me and the Arbitrary Constant." "And where would we be without that," he said, placing his right foot up on a stone, turning once again towards Tel Aviv, turning once again to stone, "Where would we be without the Arbitrary Constant?" "Still in the caves, bonking each other with rocks and running from fire." Abraham looked out over the city. Several shots rang out. A group scattered, two lay motionless in the street, several small wisps of smoke drifted up from the city. "They're still in the caves, Pi," he said, "They won't leave the cave for the Paradise before them." "They're looking for the words that set them free," I said. "They're waiting for the someone to show them about learning light." "Looks to me like they're just looking for a good fight." "They're frightened, that's all." "They should get over it." "And they will." "Sinking or swimming." "Preferably, probably, swimming." "Like the Mayans," he said, nodding. "I should have done it more like that." "Look at it this way," I said, snickering, "If they fail, there's always the next time." Abraham grimmaced, said nothing. I became slowly immaterial as he stoically turned into the stone upon which he stood. That was just his way of caring, I guess, but it still made me sad. Gods enjoy incredible capacities for empathy. It's what we live for. _ _ _ On August 6, 1945, humans lost their innocence to atomic weaponary. They lost it in true barnyard fashion, burped up from the Detroit steel belly of a B-48, a weapon of wild intensity made from a simple quantum expression given to the world, initially, by one of my avatars, Albert Einstein. This was a crushing blow to the Father of Relativity, who ceased giving away secrets then and there. He was embarrassed in the extreme, of course. The bomb burst near the ground, a little bit of matter became a whopping ball of energy, vaporizing everything in a mile-round swath. The world would never be the same. Ironically enough, this weapon came from the nation who's primary prophet, Jesus Christ, preached this: God is Love. And as one who has a personal relationship with that which is God, I feel inclined to ask: Where was the love in that? _ _ _ Catching a tradewind off the coast of Africa in 1948, I drifted along the jetstream slowly making my way to the Caribbean Sea, and my next avatar, a man of great inner strength and peace and beauty. He would express himself through music, of course. Rhythm, and music. Rhythm is the skeleton upon which each note, each tone hangs, like garlands in a warm summer breeze, like a wave washing upon a sandy beach, like the trees swaying slowly in the tradewinds. That's rhythm for you. Waves within the wave, keeping time, holding it all together. As I moved along with the whistling current I felt the molecules whispering amongst themselves. The wind telling stories, sun speading molecules, each with a particular history, the same history, sharing information in the Great Collective that becomes a universe by and by. That's the way information is passed on -- through changes in the wind, in the sun, through the electromagnetic resonations produced by the universe, galaxy, earth, and every other thing. As the frequency changes, so evolves the system, the planet and everything on it accordingly. It's all one Big System. And a change in one part of an interconnected system ultimately changes everything else throughout the system accordingly. Like this: When a scalar wave washes over the universe, depending upon the angle at which it intersects, a change in the resonant qualities of both systems oocurs, a change in the orientation occurs; resulting in a change in the galaxies of that universe, which results in a changing of the rotation of the planets the solar systems within the galaxies, to a greater or lesser extent, which brings about physiological changes to every system within that system which, in this case, would be everything on the earth. RNA receive this change of frequency through the telencephalon, as I said, and begins changing the production of Amino Acids, which alters the code of the RNA, which sends the changes on to the DNA, altering the body accordingly. And presto! Evolution or extinction, depending on the extent of the change resonation, and each particular specie's systems ability to adapt to the frequency. Some species make it and some die out. Dominant species never remain dominant forever. That's the first rule of evolution. Within the bounded, but infinite confines of humanity, however, there exists a road to autonomy, there exists a means of defeating the great Heat Death of Entropy. It's commonly known as Perpetual Motion. Humanity has obsessed over Perpetual Motion since the invention of the wheel. The wheel was inspired, of course, by the idea of something rolling on continuously. All the information of civilization as a reslut of this invention, rose from the visions contained in that singular moment of inspiration whispered forever between the molecules, like a secret. All you have to do is listen. Your molecules will tell you all there is to know. Because Perpertual Motion, the potentiality for such, and the requisite blueprints exist in every single molecule in this universe, and every other. And the only finite state machine on this particular planet with the potential to reach a perpetual state of being above and beyond the phenomenal plane, moving from finite to infinite state machineliness, as it were, is a human being. Humans, through focus, luminosity and unattachment harbor the power to become a focused beam of unwaivering light over time, if that is their intention. Humans have the power to fulfill each and every one of their intentions, the greatest of which would be realizing that immortal band of energy. It's that simple. Just ask the Mayans. Just ask Bob Marley. Bob, he would say it best when he said this: We know and we understand, the mighty God is the living man.
In the shadowed corridors where ink meets code, Kevin M. Cowan weaves a tapestry of sound and silence, a symphony for the digital age. His words, like whispered secrets in the night, unravel the mysteries of the human condition, while his music echoes through the labyrinthine alleys of the soul, a haunting melody that lingers long after the last note fades. As a technologist, he dances with the ghosts of machines, conjuring worlds where the line between reality and illusion blurs, inviting us to ponder the unseen forces that shape our existence. In this noir-zine realm, Cowan's creations are both mirror and mirage, reflecting the beauty and melancholy of a world forever on the brink of discovery.
Kevin M. Cowan is a writer, technologist, and artist whose work spans novels, AI development, drumming, and filmmaking. From his fiction roots in Nebraska to experimental media projects and cutting-edge AI, Kevin blends storytelling, sound, and code into one creative continuum. Explore his world — one story, rhythm, and idea at a time.
Music. Video. Visuals arts. All composed or curated by Kevin.
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