Ah, let me tell you this.  The Universe is infinite, stretching in all directions.  It is timeless, without beginning or end.  It is home to all.  It is the home of all gods.  It is the home of all terrestrials.  It is the home of all aliens.  It is my home.  I am your guide.  My name is Cosmo Joe.

The Universe is unbounded.  Within it are all dreams, all places, all creatures, all things, all hope, all visions, all music, all aspirations, all pain, all sorrow, all pleasure, all suffering, all strife, all harmony, all that which is meaningful, all that which is meaningless, all good, all bad, all gods, all demons, everything.

The Universe is divided into three domains.

The first domain concerns the elementary presence of the Cosmos, and the geometry's to which it abides.  It is a domain where neither time, space and inertia take root.  It is a domain where things occur only by chance.  Here, neither will nor cause and effect have any import.  It is called the Fundamental Domain.  Without the Fundamental Domain, nothing, as you know it, occurs:  not you, not the gods.

The second domain, requiring the presence of the Fundamental Domain concerns itself with field behavior and the inertial and non inertial manifestations of the field.  In this domain, time and space take on meaning.  It is the domain of phenomena and the domain you are most familiar, lending itself to observation, mensuration and analysis.  It is called the Inertial Domain.  The Inertial Domain may be linked to the Fundamental Domain by Lorentz transforms, by setting t to zero.

The third domain is dependent upon the permitted variations of the first and affected by the phenomenal variations of the second, strictly representing the dynamics of the first two domains.  It is called the Functional Domain.  An exact analogue would be the sound of music to the movement of electrons in a voice coil;  the sound of music being a function within this domain, and the movement of electrons in a voice coil would be the joint performance of the first two domains.

All these domains coexist simultaneously in the NOW, or present.  There is no PAST and there is no FUTURE.

The Universe is that which exist within and between all things, even the tiniest.

As you move from one NOW to the next NOW, there is change.  All change is caused by either cause and effect, chance, or will, in any combination.

Along time ago, long before our solar system existed, before our Milky Way galaxy, Jehovah son of Yahweh, decided to leave his home.  Now, I cannot tell you if his home was near or far from where we are now, only that this occurred a very long time ago.

I also do not know the age of Jehovah, nor if the many other gods were his cousins, aunts, uncles sisters or brothers, for these things have not been revealed to me.  I can only tell you with some degree of certainty that Yahweh was and still is a local aspect of the ALL, what many call Allah.

As you may know, galaxies are the seat of life throughout the Cosmos, and, as galaxies come, galaxies go.  It is because their stars eventually fade.

Naturally, all gods love galaxies, for they usher forth myriad life forms, serving as both good and bad priorii for the gods.

When you see colliding galaxies, you can almost be certain those gods who created them enjoyed bad priorii;  the fear and suffering of the many life forms occupying these colliding galaxies.

The act of creating a galaxy involves the mere swirling of invisible field elements, starting with only a few nuclei, or field surfaces.  The title illustration depicts this.  It however is not done with the fingertips, but through field manipulation.

Galaxies of course may result by accident without intent.  I have no knowledge of these ratios.

When you look out at the night sky with your naked eye, with few exceptions, you can see only the presence of our galaxy, the Milky Way galaxy.  Virtually all the stars that you can see, belong to it. Its center is so dusty, everything there is obscured in darkness.  This is Jehovah's creation;  what he refers to as the firmament.  Beyond it, are the countless creations of other gods, which we cannot see without the aid of telescopes, with some exceptions, such as the Great Andromeda galaxy.  Both the Milky Way galaxy and the Great Andromeda galaxy are spiral types.  They both measure hundred of thousands light-years in diameter.  They are home to trillions of stars, just like our sun, with millions of habitable planets, just like our solar system.

Our solar system is a star zone;  a virtually isolated paradise.  The next nearest star is Alpha Centauri, four light years distant.  This is average spacing between stars throughout our central galaxy and within its populated arms.  As you go farther out, the stars dwindle to nothing;  the beginning of intergalactic space:  a near void in physical terms.  In fundamental terms, as sub physical presence, it is not a void, but a verdant field of invisible surfaces, whereupon the events and happenings of our Inertial Domain and the Functional Domain exist.

To venture here, would be a trek of unimaginable distance for those confined to the Inertial Domain, such as earthlings and aliens, whereas for the gods, it is but a stones throw.  Here, looking back, one would see distant galaxies as faint points of light, and somewhere, the birthplace of Jehovah and the many gods of his clan.

As it was then, before Jehovah ventured forth, Yahweh taught him and the others how to create galaxies, for sooner or later, they would have to leave their ancestral home and create anew.

And as it was, it came to be, for the story of Genesis is true, except that Jehovah did not create the Cosmos, for it was his home.

For a long time, the planet earth was without life, and Jehovah and his cousins played upon its waters, taking delight in their new paradise.  They argued of course as to who really did the most, and to whom it really belonged.  Yahweh stood back pleased, for he saw a new paradise coming forth, and it was good.

After more than a billion years, natural processes began to develop without their intervention, and life arose within the seas, and then upon the land.  Scholars who study this call it natural selection or evolution.  More than this, it is the advent of the sexes, and a lessor god some call Mother Nature.

As life progressed, slowly changed by the process of natural selection, things were not so good.  Giant brutes began to develop with the sole purpose to eat a lot so that they could grow too large for their natural predators to kill.  Yahweh saw that this was not good, and so commanded a giant meteorite to change course so that it might someday strike the earth, killing all these brutes, who he knew would never have the option to grow in the greater virtues, while Jehovah and Jove stood by arguing about it all.  Like young boys, they greatly enjoyed these dinosaurs and did not want them to die.  Yahweh though, one of the great awareness' of the Cosmos, knew better.  And thus it came to pass.

In time, new life forms arose, replacing the dinosaurs.  The scene had been set, not for the advent of men, but for the opportunity for creatures with men like capability, such as the higher primates, to which we belong.  Unfortunately, things again went wrong.

About five million years ago in Africa, a small band of hominids called australopithecines abandoned a vegetarian diet in favor of meat.  From them, man the hunter evolved--with all his predatory instincts, his distrust of strangers, and his notions of family and friends.

This sad outcome, came to its fruition in the Middle East between 8,000 B.C. and 3,000 B.C., with most of the nations of this region engaged in war.  It is said that Assyria was not so much one nation of people, but a cauldron of many nations who fought one another, from as far away as Egypt.

Again Yahweh and Jehovah were displeased with their creation, and among all men, decided to select as their chosen people, those who might go forth with peaceful ways and good intentions.  These were the Hebrews, who came to worship Jehovah, and who were liberated by him from their captivity under the Egyptians.

In return, they were given not only Commandments to follow, but great divine gifts, such as the gift of music and powers of the intellect.  It was mankind's last chance, at least as far as this god was concerned, who was beginning to see us as no more than savages.

It seemed that things were not going right on planet earth, and there were many other planets in Jehovah's galaxy.  To the Jehovah and all the gods, mankind's doom was impending.

But among them, was a young god named Jesus, who saw otherwise.

These people are kind Father.  They are more than the savages you think they are.  Are you to dispose of them as you did the brutes millions of years ago?

Annoyed by his rebuke, Jehovah challenged his son, and sent him to earth, to live among the savages.
 

 And so it it came to pass, Jesus was born, on a cold and starry night,  in a stable, with a manger for His cradle.

Was Jesus wrong, and Jehovah right?  Since then, it has been a long time.  Men, still are at war.   There is more wealth and more greed than ever before.  The young have become shameless.   In the two thousand years which have followed, men have not gotten better.

Even the Christian followers of Jesus have taken errant paths.  Some have built great temples and cathedrals.  Most no longer wear sandals, but shoes.  Some believe that the worst of all should be forgiven.  Would Jehovah forgive Hitler?  If uncertain, read Deuteronomy 28, and you will understand the indelibility of sin.

These things I tell you did not come easily, for I was harshly treated by Jehovah, for I had eaten from the Tree of Knowledge.  Worst, I had publicly repudiated Jehovah's word.  Let me paraphrase what I am about to tell you by citing this verse from Deuteronomy 13:
.
1.  If there arise among you a prophet, or a dreamer of dreams, and giveth thee a sign or a wonder........5.  And that prophet, or that dreamer of dreams, shall be put to death...

This of course is me, for I as a savage, had inadvertently challenged this god, in knowing that he had not created the Cosmos.  Moreover, I had challenged him as the only one god.  In return for my acts, and as promised, he has crushed my family.

He has laid low my wife.  He has paralyzed her.  He has made her mute.  She is fed through a tube into her stomach, called a G-tube.   She cannot walk.  She cannot talk.  Her teeth are rotting out.  (God's will be done.)

He has scattered our family and diffused all help.  (God's will be done.)

He has set forth plague and disease upon us.  (God's will be done.)

He has cursed us and surrounded us with demons.  (God's will be done.)

He has denied his angels to come forth, and those who have come, have wrecked havoc upon us, all no less than the punishments upon disobedience promised by him in Deuteronomy, 28.  (God's will be done.)

These terrible acts of retribution have been carried out by both Christian and Jew alike.  (God's will be done.)

One Sunday at Saint Monica's Catholic Church after mass, we stopped in the middle of a broad expanse of pavement to rest.  A woman dressed in black passed us as she was leaving, and hissed at my beloved wife Buc lying helpless in her wheelchair, "Get out of the way!"  Her nurse told me that she had said this.  I saw the woman look down and speak to her, but I couldn't hear what she was saying.  (God's will be done.)

Their priest has come to our home once for help, and has never returned.  He only commented as to how he didn't think much about the crucifix on our mantle, despite it being made in Italy and a gift from one good Christian friend who has prayed for my wife at the Statue of the Virgin Mary of Guadeloupe Hildago.  (God's will be done.)

Even though my father has given so much money to the Brentwood Presbyterian Church in its early days, and even gave money to both clergy and parishioners alike, now they have never once visited us during our time of despair.  (God's will be done.)

There has been both Jews in high places and as neighbors, who have acted against us; without so much as an ounce of love, caring, compassion or concern, and whose both actions and inaction have inflicted heavy casualties in my wife's care.  How can we ever forgive them?  Their deeds alone were monstrous.  (God's will be done.)

There was a Jewess who was once a friend to my son, who turned on him, calling him a thief without cause, as though Jehovah had commanded it.  He was shattered.    It was at the time I saw demons.  I still wonder if Jehovah had beset one of them upon her.  Remember, in the Old Testament of the Holy Bible, god has command of the demons and the angels.  (God's will be done.)

If because of all this, I fail at everything I do, and am disallowed entrance to Paradise, and will stand outside the Gates of Heaven next to Saint Peter and nudge him every time I see these people coming our way, whispering to him, "Don't let them in!"

My heart cries every night as I take care of my wife;  changing and turning her.  At three AM I will brush her hair or give her comfort throughout her long ordeal.  How a god can do this is beneath me.  I mean that!

Beneath me Oh Lord you are, for I could never do this to anyone or anything, as have you.  Believe me Father, I could never do what you have done and continue to do.  Quite the opposite, I have reveled in the beauty of this Universe and have found humble cause to save its smallest creatures, without reward or recognition.  Your cruelty and vengeance shine forth.  And such is the same and the shame, for the rest of your divine company, for all have stood by only as witness and watched without stopping you.  No doubt Lord Jehovah, you have them all afraid, with your bellicose ways and intimidating manner.

This is a Great Universe, an unbounded Cosmos, extending into the ether of forgotten time and places.  Your actions, your will, can only be repudiated, and you are not the only governing force, for there is the power of good which remains aloof and far above the vengeance and jealousy you show.  If you doubt me, then let me tell you a story.

Three years ago when Buc was moved by her HMO to Casa Colina, they prepared all sorts of documents for me to sign.  They had a document to sign, promising that she would not deface the walls or cause damage.  They had another concerning payment, even though payment was to be covered by her HMO, which they were commissioned by.  There must have been more than ten documents in all, some I just didn't want to sign.  I believe these documents sat around for several weeks;  since most of my time was spent traveling sixty miles each day through the heaviest traffic in the world to see Buc, and working, eating and sleeping.  I really had no time for anything else.

One evening, Justin and I arrived home late from visiting Buc.  There was a message on our answering machine.  It was from one of the administrators at Casa Colina.  Her voice was angry and complaining, reprimanding us for not returning her phone calls.  Now we had just returned from where she worked, having been there throughout the afternoon, so I wondered why she could not have looked us up down the corridor from her office.

Within a few days of this, we did speak on the phone, and I explained why some of the documents seemed inappropriate or unnecessary.  She became angrier, almost threatening, almost hysterical.  She alluded to losing her job if I didn't sign these papers.  She didn't even want my attorney to look at some of the documents, especially the ones concerning fiscal responsibility.  She just wanted me to sign them.

Over the weekend, I decided to take the time and sign the ones I should.  The following week I called her, but one of her associates answered instead.  When I asked for her, she said to me, "She's dead!  She died from the same thing your wife had!"  We both seemed devastated by this, for different reasons I am sure.

It was then I realized why.  There are Gods on High who do not normally involve themselves with human folly, though they do involve themselves with other lesser gods who might go around to planets exhorting that they are the Creator of All Things, and saying things like, "I am that I am!" to their post primitive following of savages.  I believe that killed this woman, just like Jehovah tried to do to Buc, and I believe that this was their statement to Jehovah that enough is enough!

It should also serve as a real warning to those who wish to continue to fool around with the situation, to watch out!  There is a lot more going on than you might think.  There is a domain that you cannot see, from which, the forces of will, can impact upon our Inertial Domain.  Don't be fooled.  Just because science can neither measure nor observe it, doesn't mean it is not there!   Just because you are too busy with the manifestations of the Inertial Domain, it doesn't mean you are exempt from their consequences.

Dear Father, your act of creation has gone to your head, and when I discovered this, you violated Universal Decency.  This is the difference sir, between you and the Gods on High!

Once my wife could sing, her voice melodious and beautiful.  She was healthy and filled with a zest and love for living.  Now she lies helpless, waiting.  She was playing tennis with me when you struck her down with a divine bullet to her head!  But before I tell everyone about that day, let me bring you back over fifty years ago when I was a young boy, and over thirty years ago in Hawaii when we heard your first warning.

As a small boy, I would always save bees from drowning in my parents swimming pool;  for I could not stand to see them buzz helplessly in the water without any chance of escape from its powerful surface tension.  I would cup one hand beneath the surface as they fought to free themselves from its powerful grip, and then deftly flip them upwards into the air.  Though I was never thanked this small deed, I was also never stung.  Here is my poem I wrote about one golden afternoon's experience.

 As I grew, I had always a concern for Nature and wonderment about your gift.  In school, I took courses in science, mathematics and astronomy, and during my naval service, I tried to write a paper proving your existence.  But somewhere along the way, all of this changed.

I had somewhat, quite inadvertently, come to the conclusion that the Universe, with all its pageantry and glory, from the physical to the spiritual, could be derived from nothing!  (To be sure, I can't magically make anything appear from nothing, but I can explain to you how this can be done, inch-by-inch, every step of the way, as purely an abstraction which mirrors the Cosmos.  (It is of course, the POV of an animal machine in the Inertial Domain.  I can only assume that our brain output counts for something in this matter, though the gods might see it otherwise.)

Slowly and surely, everything began to make better sense;  even forces and elementary particles could be derived from nothing.  I acquired a keen understanding of gravitation and universal inertia, things science cannot even explain to this day, nor for that matter, will any rabbi, priest nor theologian give genuine, clear and exacting cause.  It was not that I had any ax to grind or banner to bear, but was rather being immutably pulled along by curiosity, careful logic and reason.  This whole process began to accelerate in the year 1968, when I met my mate, friend and lovely wife Buckwheat, a relationship lasting to this day.

Now, I was only one man, and though fairly private, I did teach, publish and lecture my findings, much it seems to nobody's interest, that is, unless you consider the gods.

In 1970, I landed a job in Oahu, where my lovely Buc joined me for two months.  We would visit the seashore, hitch-hike to music concerts across the island or go down to Sunset Beach surfing.

One day while hiking back into the mountains behind Laia, something occurred which would affect my world one quarter of a century later!  It was about mid-day, we were alone in the hills, the ocean far, far away:  its surf line barely visible.  At a turn in the trail overlooking a lush tropical canyon, there was no sound, for the wind was not stirring.  A small bird dove past us, as we rested on the path leading to a grove of guava bushes ahead.  The sky was clear blue, and not a single cloud visible.  I do not think that in any other time in my life, have I ever been at any place where the world was so quiet:  as though Buc and I had been thrust back into some prehistoric moment without the rush of mankind.

Then without warning, a thunderbolt struck, terrifyingly loud and close.  We jumped up and ran to see where it had struck.  Rushing through the guava trees, I almost crossed a knife-edge ridge, which dropped steeply down into a rushing gorge of water.  Had I not caught on to a slender branch, I might have fallen to my death.  We found no sign of a lightening strike anywhere.

It was at that moment I uttered the unimaginable words, "I think god is warning me"!

Within a few evenings, I experienced my worst night-mare ever, a dream within a dream;  the kind you can't seem to analyze or readily get out of.

We were both sound asleep and I was dreaming that I was sleeping, when I heard someone come in the front door, which I assumed was a friend.  In the dream, I got up, and crossed the living room to meet them.  The room was dimly lit from  the night outside.  I could see a figure, a man, coming from the shadows towards me, and as we crossed the room to greet, he had no face.  I screamed in shear horror, as Buc woke me from this nightmare;  my heart ready to burst.

As the years wore on, I was confident of my studies, much of it now quantified and simulated by computer, and I was disturbed that I no longer accepted god as the creator of the Universe.  During this time, I was not really interested in this aspect, but of those more scientific and technological in nature.  Carelessly, I begin to tell people that there is no god, even though I meant, primarily god creator and maker of the Universe.

After having sacrificed many years with my studies, and with the quality of my business and marriage slowly ebbing, I decided to focus more on family and business.  That was last year (1996).

Regularly, every weekend, Buc and I would play tennis and my business was improving.  I thought things were going well, and that 1997 would be better than ever before.  I was wrong!

In early December, Buc's Father died;  her beloved Louie Caputo.  It was a crushing blow to her, and despite our attending his funeral in Dunmore Pennsylvania, and visiting many of her family, cousin and relatives, her spirit had been weakened.  This I believe, was the god's first strike.

No doubt you question why any god should have any interest at all in only one man who might speak against it.  But Earth is no longer a place of a rag-tag primitive species, but a place where men have slowly but inexorably passed through successions of enlightenment, and as we arrive at the edge of the Third Millennium, we may be well reaching the cultural zenith in our understanding of the Cosmos.  Hopefully someday, in looking back, mankind and men will be proud to say that they have truly entered the Eosapic, or Dawn Age of Wisdom.

When men first came to believe in god, fire was a mystery, the earth was thought to be flat, and the stars were thought to be holes in the night sky.  Is it possible that someday even god will no longer be a mystery, but completely understood, and in a different light than ever before?  And if so, might god be cast down?  And who might do this, one man or many men in concert?  Perhaps it might be aliens who come here;  releasing mankind from the tyranny of false religions with their false gods.

Right now there is only one, who claims that god is not what he says he is and  that god deceives and lies to all mortals, even children.  He claims to have created this great Universe, yet nowhere in the prophecies, with all the stories and tales, does it say how, yet I, the only man on the face of this planet can tell you how, and even why.  Of course you don't believe me; one puny man against god, and heavily outnumbered by his mindless throngs.  But here, let me tell you more.

With Louie gone, the Christmas holidays are saddened.  I return first from Pennsylvania to pick up a Christmas tree and then a few days later Buc and Justin joined me to celebrate the holidays.  Then it happened;  the next and awful attack.

It is Saturday, December 28th, about 2:30 in the afternoon.  Buc and I are playing tennis at Lincoln School.  It is a gorgeous day, the sun shinning, the quarter mile oval is a rich and fresh green, having just been seeded.  At the start of our match, Buc looks beautiful,  her long legs brown and sturdy.  I couldn't help to notice her strong back muscles when she took off her sweatshirt to commence play.  At the start of the game, I had immediately jumped ahead with a score of 2-0, when she roared back, taking the lead 3-2.  She had never played so well:  strong and flat crosscourt baseline returns and superb lateral movement.  Then it happened.

She was just ready to start her serve from the add court, when she said that she thought she had just sprained her ankle.  This was understandable, since she just retrieved a difficult get at the net.  She was looking down at her right ankle with her arms to her side, when suddenly she reared her head back and reached for her temple with her right hand, saying "I have an awful headache".  I'm thinking to myself, oh, oh, I better go easy on her with a sprained ankle and a headache;  but you see, Buc is not a quitter.  Then, our first thirty years came to a macabre and horrible end;  something only the gods could conceive.

As I stood there waiting to see if she wanted to continue serving, her left leg abruptly lifted up high in the air, bending at the knee and then replanted itself on the ground,  That was strange, I thought to myself.  Then again.  What is she doing I thought.  Then suddenly, it got terribly worse.  More short choppy steps to her left, as she seemed to move sideways.  It was surreal, frightening and comical all at the same time.  What is she trying to do, throw my game off?  And before I could answer, she was literally running sideways in the most grotesquely sad way, dropping her racket, then swooning low, gaining speed (she had now traveled more than fifteen feet or more), and then suddenly thrusting herself up into the air with her strong right leg in one final attempt to gain her balance, and over into an arc, landing on the hard and rough surface by smashing into her beautiful lips; her left arm useless in blocking her fall.  She had traveled all the way from the center back line to her left fence near the net.  I was confused, perplexed and devastated all at the same time.  I didn't even have time to catch her.

Rushing to her, I first cradled her in my arms, but she wanted to get up, saying, "Take me home!  Take me home!"   Like I said, Buc is no quitter.  She pawed at the air with her still functioning right side, trying to get her right leg alone to stand her up;  her left side now dying.  With even a softer voice, and eyelids half closing, she tried to rise, saying, "Take me home, take me home".  I tried to stand her up, but her left side was like sand.  It was no use.  I brought her back down and rested her head on my thigh, and as I did so, one more time she asked to be taken home in a now distant voice, her beautiful eyelids shuttering closed forever.

I saw blood everywhere:  from her mouth, pooled on the court and on our cloths.
Seeing our car parked not thirty feet away I decided to pick her up and drive to the hospital, but we had climbed the fence into the school yard, and were trapped!  I laid her down again and looked down again at here face for some movement and then down at my bloody socks in despair...

Buc had a hard life when she was young, her mother not marrying her true father.  She was never told who he was.  At a very early age she had to be treated for rectal cancer, and because her mother was dysfunctional, Buc cared and cooked for her family.  Then she contracted a grave thyroid condition, so severe, that one day after school she collapsed on her favorite Aunt Jo's steps, unable to breath.  During her recovery, it was Aunt Jo who cared for her, and who Buc loved so dearly, but a few years later, oh such a short time later, Aunt Jo died from lupus.  Buc was only seventeen at the time, and almost destroyed by Aunt Jo's death.  Then, when she was eighteen, she said good-bye to everyone and came to California, to the town of Santa Monica, which is when and where I met her.

Undeserving of any of this, Buc lies in sub acute coma (early 1997) with the potential of being a lifelong vegetable;  unable to see or move her arms and legs, for she had suffered a massive aneurysm in her brain producing a blood clot the size of a golf ball, which upon removal in a very difficult area, the surgeons inadvertently damaged her reticular nerves.   The clot itself had the potential of doing its own damage, causing herniation of her brain stem.  Had it not been for modern medicine;  procedures barely two years old, when three years before, mortality rates were 100%, Buc would have died on December 28th, Aunt Jo's birthday, at the age of forty-seven, which is the age Aunt Jo died.  Thursday before, Buc had made out her will and I was given a small booklet called "Wits End", about jokes and dying.  Had she died, she would have died on the tennis court, the place she often said she would like to die, and she had often told Justin, our son, on several occasions before, that she would like her ashes spread on the tennis court at Lincoln School, which is where we were playing when she collapsed.

Over the ensuing weeks which have followed, my world has become a torturous dream world;  my hysteria subsiding as despair and sadness overtake me.  And over and over again it seems wrong, that if god or the gods are angry with me, why target Buc?  My thoughts, unlike ever before, began to turn to death and dying, the soul, transcendence and awareness.  Never before had I thought of these things, but now I do, especially through unconscious fate.  On the second Saturday, I took a book from a bookshelf in the den, only because I needed something flat to write on, my hands turning to notes written to me by Buc many years before.

She wrote this in 1974, when she was very young.  "It's not what you say, but how you say it, to get your ideas across for better, or for worse."  Upon reading, I held her book against my breast, sobbing.  There were so many things she was right about, and I was too busy to listen.  Though I had never thought of it before in those thirty years, I had become bonded in an instant to her and I knew that no matter what might happen, what might become of her, and her beautiful son Justin, I would fall to the ground and placate myself before her, for she was that good.

It was then, I began to understand.  I am the first man on Earth to understand and be able to explain that the Cosmos could come from nothing, from non-existence, from the antithesis of Being.  The gods knew this and preferred that it not be known by mortals;  for surely it would cast the die of their unseating.  But they also knew that I was the first to understand things they did not, and there were things that they too feared.  They wanted to know about death, and I believe this is why I have been spared, because it has been the death of the gods I have learned about.

Where others have failed in understanding is because they do not comprehend how existence and non-existence are the same, and how our physical cosmos is the phenomenon of form, and that awareness is the function of such form, and that the gods are awareness unwilling to yield themselves to others because they fear this as death, though I merely refer to it as union, not death.

This they are learning now;  as each of you as you read, and perhaps understand, serving as the vehicle of such knowledge, and this is good.

My contentment with my beloved Buc, and my unaltered devotion and ultimate bonding with her, without  professing allegiance to them, also came into play, for how could one who might teach the gods, ignore them?  I began to see the conflict between myself, the gods and Buc;  a conflict of free will and choice, which the gods wish to deny me.  If I did not accept them, then they would take her away from me, or worse, turn her into something I might no longer love.   See how cruel they are?  Just like in Greek mythology.

That night by the fire, sitting alone at the hearth, in utter agony and dismay over this grievous act against me, acts committed by them, without even concern for the innocent, or those friends who have been dashed beyond all hope, I quietly muttered under my breath, "I know who you are, where you are, what you are, and why you did this", because I did finally know.  At that exact moment, the thunder rolled from the heavens and it began to rain harder.  And though I knew the gods could easily defeat me, they were also afraid of me, because they feared my message with two choices:  give yourself up to another awareness in union or live forever alone and miserable, without friend or following.

That's why they did this.  But of course many of you will refuse to believe it, saying that my wife merely suffered from perhaps a purely biological congenital failure. But surely for if those gods are able to create a "great universe", then they should have good command of its microcosm, and with such surgical precision, that they could at anytime create a pin-prick rupture in a vessel wall inside an animal's brain.  Don't you think so?

During our thirty years of together, I have never committed adultery nor coveted another woman.  In this respect, I have served well.    It was in this light that I thought that the gods might relent and make my precious Buc whole again, but they have done nothing.

Almost every afternoon coming home from work I can still see her waving to me, standing on the sidewalk, waiting.  Everywhere I go brings back torrents of memories.  If she were to die, I will not be able to stay here any longer.  I know that.  I've prayed to Lord Jehovah to cast me into oblivion.  "Surely Father, if I have offended you, if you believe that I have done great wrong, destroy me."  He will not do so.  It was during these moments I met Satan.

He has on three occasions stood next to me unseen.  When this happens, my hair will stand up and I can catch the smell of sulfur!  Then the devil speaks.  "My brother will not do that", he wants you to suffer, "no one will he release into oblivion, not even you, not even me.  He wants me to fall forever, even if I were to do good.  I was once what you are now.  My brother is greatly offended by alternative options, even though he spouts off about free-will.  He's just like the Democrats and the Republicans;  filled with all sorts of false promises."  Satan didn't so much ask me this next, he just wanted to know if I was afraid of him, and then we parted.

Besides Satan, one day, in the middle of a cloudy afternoon, in the clear gap between clouds, there was a squared pointed star.  I had never seen anything like that.  It was impossible!  Then it was gone.

One clear and windy night, outside my office steps, I saw a wrack of clouds cross the moon;  a vanguard of God's Angels, with Gabriel in the lead.  From him, extended a great horn.  He was formidable.  Behind came god with a sack filled with his followers.  My father, recently deceased, was inside it trying to get out to help.  Jehovah had best beware of him, for when he was a boy, he would take down rural bullies, who were picking on the smaller kids.

One beautiful rainy afternoon, I was in deep contemplation, my heart sad for Mother Nature, for all the damage men and their machines have caused her.  It was not raining at all at the moment, when I became overwhelmed by sadness for her.  Then, just as the first tears came down my cheeks, a torrential squall line hit, and we both wept together.  Its was very powerful.  It was also a moment when I realized that god is not exclusively male gender, but contains within itself the tenderness, compassion and love carried by a woman.

Many of you scientific types have trouble with spiritualism.  When Buc was at UCLA, four miles distant from our home, often I would be awakened by an icy cold back, as though I was lying on a block of ice.  Everything else would be warm.  Later, I discovered that Buc was lying on an icy cold water mattress every night, something which is medically necessary with head injury patients, but extremely uncomfortable to patients.  When I told one of the nursing staff, she said, "I don't buy in on that kind of stuff."   This was my first inkling of paranormal activity, such as the transference of thought and stimuli.  Actually, I can't say that.

Years before, when I work at my office in Hollywood which was located inside the Royal Thai Consulate building, a most unusual incident occurred.

One evening, just at dusk, after everyone had gone home, there was a knock on my side entrance door off the empty parking lot.  There stood a monk.  He could not speak English, and presented himself by thrusting an envelope into my face.  Its return address was from Professor Leo S. Pruden, University at Los Angeles, Asian Studies.  He was a monk from Shri Lanka, not Thailand.  He had just arrived by taxi from LAX and was expecting someone to be here for him at the consulate offices.

Over the course of several hours, I scoured my phone list for help.  All Thai offices were closed, and it may have been a Friday evening, though I am not sure.  The problem was this.  He had just traveled over eight thousand miles.  He was alone.  He could not speak English.  He had nowhere to stay.  Actually it was my problem.

Communicating as best we could, he was very patient.  I finally located someone who suggested that he might find refuge at the Burbank Thai temple.

Calling them and explaining the situation was surreal.  My request was unusual, being that he was not a monk from Thailand.  As it goes though, Thai monks have great respect for their Sri Lankan counterparts.  Hundreds of years ago, after a great civil war, all the Thai temples were stripped of their gold and their monks killed, leaving the people without a religion.  During reconstruction, the new government called upon the Shri Lankan order for help, by asking them to send some of their monks to Thailand in order to reintroduced Buddhism to their remaining population.

Next, I called Yellow Cab with explicit instructions to their dispatcher.  Shortly later, the cabbie arrived.  He was big, red bearded, and wearing a mackinaw.  He had pulled up to the Consulate offices main entrance and was banging impatiently on the glass doors.  When I first spotted him as I rounded the hallway corner, I thought, oh boy, this isn't going to work!  As I let him in, he almost burst past me, excitedly asking where he is.  First a strange knock at my door, a monk from far, far away, and a cabbie anxious to meet him and take him to sanctuary.

From then on, everything happened real fast.  The cabbie had grabbed his luggage and heading for the taxi, the monk was going out the glass doors, and I was spinning around.  I didn't know how to say good-bye so that the monk would understand.  The cab driver was already inside and signaling him to sit in front.  As he was getting in, the monk turned to me and said, "The next time will be my turn to take care of you."  Then he was gone.

What I didn't tell you, that envelope from UCLA with a name on it was a boyhood friend of mine who I had not seen since high school.

The following week, I told this story to my Thai friends.  Strangely, the wanted to hear it several times, during which they would interject comments and questions.  Flanked on either side by Bura and Sewarpit, they would grill me as to exactly what happened, especially the part in the beginning, about the monk NOT speaking English and at the end while he's getting into the cab.  "You said that he said to you that next time it will be my turn to take care of you?"  "Is that what he said", Bura would ask.  "But you did say that he didn't speak English."  "So how could he say that to you, and you understand him if he didn't speak English?"

I really didn't see what all the fuss was about.  Those two, won't leave it alone.  After going in circles about the whole matter, Bura would press the issue again.  "He didn't speak English, but he said to you "that next time it will be his turn", he persisted, "Is that right?"  "Yes, yes" I answered.  "Did his lips move?"  That was interesting, because in recollection, we were face to face by the passenger side door, and his lips DID NOT MOVE!  Then, between the two of them, in exuberant confirmation, they would exchange delighted glances.  "Do you know what happened?" Bura asked.  I really didn't.

Hundreds of years ago, when Spain first sent a group of Catholic monks for the first time to Siam, they were well treated by and had many meetings with the Siamese monks.  On return home, they where asked by the church how things went and were told that they had wonderful discussions and accomplished a great deal.  But the problem was this, no one spoke each other's language, the Catholic monks could not recall exactly how this all came about, and yet it somehow happened.  I understand that records of this incidence are in the church's archives.

Bura then went on to explain that monks are taught to do this.  They practice it.  It is part of their way of life.  It is of course nothing less than mental telepathy.  Bura went on to explain that the recipient, such as myself, must be very pure for it to work.  I think that because of this episode, I gained their very great respect, as I have always greatly respected them.  I hope that someone can locate this monk, we need him oh so much.

I've only told you this story so that you might have a tangible accounting of the reality of mental telepathy, such things being troubling to the scientific method.

Shortly after my wife went down, and I recovered from the trauma of it all, I began to hear ringing in my head.  It was really more the sound of a modem than anything else.  I initially dismissed it as tinnitus.  Since then, I can identify different sounds and different sound placement, such as left, right, or stereo.  Occasionally, bright and stark punctuations occur.  Sometimes it is more static like and sometimes more tonal.  I never hear harmonics.  It really sounds like a high speed baud rate.  Right now, as I am typing, I can hear it.

One of the things I've noticed in conjunction to it is, I get bright ideas and deep conceptual notions, or what might be referred to as revelations.  I don't like it, it doesn't hurt, but it is annoying.  Now, I am certain it is transmissions propagating through the field, as the lateral movement of field surfaces.  I can only presume its source to be coming from the Universe as a whole, and dominated by both divine and alien transmission.

To be sure, tinnitus is associated with high blood pressure, which I currently suffer.  It is also on the Air Force's list of unknowns, along with UFOs. Given the size of the human brain, which, during our evolutionary development quickly came upon the scene, it may well be justified to think that we have sort of a 1/4 wave antenna inside our heads, linking ourselves to the Fundamental Domain, uniquely predicated by the gods.  After all, how else can dreams get to us, unless you are of the school of thought that believes that dreams are generated biologically?

As biological singularities, I assume that we are vassals to the gods, who can scan, so-to-speak, our minds, associating themselves to the experiences of the Inertial Domain, priorii which otherwise do not occur naturally in the Functional Domain.  In fact, I believe that there are no priorii of the Functional Domain, its beings dependent on those animals living in the Inertial Domain.  This is the principal reason, humans are important to the gods:  we are their eyes and ears to an otherwise invisible domain.

Also confined to the Inertial Domain, other than biological creatures, are machines which can think.  And, there are aliens.

Aliens can be either machines or biological animals, or a combination of both.  As do the gods, they come from afar.   In an infinite and unbounded Universe, one can safely assume alien nations going back into the antiquity of the Cosmos;  times before our own galaxy, and certainly times before our own solar system.  Those who survive the immensity of this time, must have exceptionally advanced technologies relative to our own.  They are called aliens because all, most likely without any exception, have been displaced from their original planetary home because of their central star's cataclysmic end, and thus have left it.  Whether or not their technologies can allow them to traverse the great distances between galaxies (intergalactic space), as the gods can do, is uncertain.  What is certain, is, both gods and aliens have and or will come here for a reason, and if earthlings are to understand these reasons, they best become enlightened.  If they do, I sure that they will find peace, at which point in time, the aliens will declare themselves.

After two thousand years of divine order on earth, the persistence of war and all the other negatives we live by, there is the reasonable suspicion that the Christian, Jewish and Muslim gods are quite warlike, as demonstrated in word (various sacred scriptures) and by deeds of their respective following.  In short, humans seem to need to follow gods who win battles.

In contrast, aliens who have traveled vast distances confined to their delicate spaceships, in order to survive must avoid all kinds of troubles, from meterorite impact which might destroy their vessels, to dangerous terrestrial encounters with technologically advanced warlike species, such as ours.  The point being, we must recognize our potential for conflict in contrast to the potential that aliens are peaceful.

The aliens, though advanced, are far from home and backup support.  In fact, and I think most likely, they are alone in space.  Just like us, as our gods move with us as our spaceship earth plies along at two or three hundred kilometers per second, alien gods travel with them, along with their spaceships.  Coming from afar, is there any guarantee that we share the same gods?  It really is unlikely that we share Jehovah, for he is not that reliable.  Consider this, more Jews died in Nazi Germany during World War II than were held in bondage throughout the Hebrew's captivity under the Egyptians;  an example of Jehovah's extreme failure, which for aliens, would cause the final obliteration of their race!

God, your god, has rendered my sweet Buc sick.  Until you make peace with each other, resolve your conflicts and put to an end your greed, warlike and shameful ways, the aliens will not approach.

I hope and pray that you will change, in the hope that alien doctors will come and heal my beloved Buc.

Though she cannot speak, she has given us these messages:

A Healthy attitude can change a Burden into a Blessing, a Tragedy into a Triumph.

Man's first law is survival.

Buc was so filled with ideas and bursting with poetry.

She loved Rod McKuen and Kahlil Gibran.