While I was working on my latest novel, The Leap of Faith”, I came to a notion, that appeared trite and mind-boggling at the same time. Maybe I've just never looked into it that way, I don't know, but the more I am thinking about it, the more amazing it appears. I'd like to share it with you.

Each of us, living man or woman, are the living tips of incredibly long lines of lives, going all the way down to the dawn of humanity. And if we could follow these lines back in time, we would arrive at the source, where all these lines converge. What is that source? Or who was it? Was it a single pair of progenitors, or a cluster of several different but capable of interbreeding species? The answer remains a matter of faith, religious or scientific, whichever you take.

The day of Transfiguration had just passed. It was a good day to be on some mountain, looking up for a light. I couldn’t do it, though; I've spent my day in a hole, in darkness. Nevertheless, it never hurts to dream about light:
And why do we call it transfiguration? That's the question I’ve asked myself.
As the story went, Jesus took three of his best disciples (Peter, John, James), went to Mt. Hermon and there his countenance turned dazzling white; Moses and Elijah appeared before Him and paid Him homage; and Peter said... well, everyone knows the story [1].
You also probably know, that the Transfiguration of Jesus, like almost everything else in the New Testament, was preceded by Old Testament events - the transfiguration of Moses. Moses’ countenance irradiated bright light, when he went down from Mount Sinai. “The skin of his face shone because he had been speaking with the Lord.”[2].

“If only I had known what he would turn out to be,” said Henry Tandey, a British soldier of WWI, who had a chance to kill Adolph Hitler at the Battle of Marcoing.

According to Henry's account, he took aim but had a heart not to kill a wounded German soldier. “If I only had known what he would turn out to be. When I saw all the people, women and children he had killed and wounded, I was sorry to God to let him go.” [1]

We live in a world of words. Some people even make a living by weaving long and sometime quite elaborate strings of letters. Some of those strings worth more than strings of pearls.

The strings of words pierce the space on radio waves, fold into books, hide in CDS and microfiches and wave to us from banners pulled by crop dusters. They shake our air with acoustic booms of contraction and rarefaction. They carry meanings; at least some of them, while others are just pollution, toxic noise. Some words will stay with you for the rest of your life, like the first word of your baby. Or like the last words of your loved one. Words give life and words take life away.

Mountains and vineyards, burned out steppe where you still can walk onto a stone baba – Neolithic female figure once worshipped by mythic Scythians.  Gentle sandy beaches of Black Sea with its floors still covered with amphorae from Phoenician, Greek and Roman wrecks…

These wrecks lie undisturbed by greedy to artifacts divers.  Smell of wormwood at sunset.  Wailing of turtledoves in green quarters of Yalta and Simferopol.  And grave silence of ancient columns protruding from sandy cliffs.  It is a bit like California, if California would have several millennia of history.  It is almost like California, but no overcrowding, often more a desert, than even a steppe.  It is Crimea, and there is much more to it, but... 

I never miss a chance to point out at strange occurrences which some people call coincidences, but those ‘coincidences’ seem are too persistent in their occurrence to be mere coincidences, anyway…
Cognitive Echo is one of the original and most interesting phenomena which I’ve discussed from the start of this blog (see COGNITIVE ECHO OR SYNCHRONICITY; COGNITIVE ECHO II OR HUMMINGBIRD; LILACS OUT OF DEAD BRAIN or COGNITIVE ECHO III ).  This is a kind of phenomena which I believe reveals digital or (if you would prefer) intelligently predetermined structure of our world.  I’ve illustrated it and discussed it through various physical manifestations which occur quite regularly in our lives, but cognitive echo can happen sometimes in quite subtle ways.  Here is an example.

This little piece is about invention of new words and the causes that bring them to the light.  Actually, this is about something entirely different, but, well, you’ll find this out… 

I think that many new words are invented out of a pure ignorance of writers.  This is, of course, a generalization, so maybe it will be fair to put it this way: when I am writing I am ignorant to the point of invention of new words.  How about that?  I think it is a fair way to say.

I’ll give you an example.  In the process of writing The Leap of Faith I came up with a great word, the word I can relate to, and if you’ve read my books then you know what I mean.  And the word is encagement

I have a scary observation to report.  It’s in the #nature.  Our Southern summers were always abundant on insects, even overabundant.  Not now, though – the world seems like become devoid of our little buzzing buddies (and foes).  What had happened to them? 

April, already ninety Fahrenheit, no rain – here, in Bayboro, April is a summer month.  I am looking around and asking myself: where are they?  Where are our ubiquitous mosquitoes, including this funny tiger bunch, where are ladybugs, where are yellow jackets, where are orange wasps and where are my favorite praying mantises, where they all had gone?  I am looking around and I see none, NONE! 

I was patient and ignored all cognitive echoes which had happened to me since I’ve last time described this phenomenon in the Hummingbird.  Yet another echo had #happened and this time I’ve gave in.  Here is the story. 

I’ve lost a word.  And this was so embarrassing – I’ve lost a pretty common word, not an opisthoproct or cosidoron (those are coming wherever I need them).  It was a good word, a name of that pretty common shrub with purple or white clusters of flowers.  You know what I am talking about? 

I went on a quest for a #monster, and I found one, but it was a monster of a quite different nature than I thought it would be.

I was editing one of my story called “Pink Black Widow”, when I’ve run into a little snag.  I needed to find monsters.  Not monsters with long fangs, sticky tentacles or legs growing out of their heads, but verbal ones.  The culprit word, which sent me on this unusual quest was “decumanus”, a word which plays quite a sinister role in Pink Black Widow.  I was looking for some name which could make a match from a dark and even sinister side of meanings, like “chthonic” or “Tcheralindra”.