That humans have a common ancestry is not in doubt; endogenous retroviruses (ERV) provide evidence of the common ancestry of life. So do error-laden pseudogenes. But do we have a common destiny? Species transmit insertions of ERVs and of false, redundant genes into genomes at different points in time and over millennia that could result in changes within species, and of species that could be crucial to survival or extinction
The Planckian mass being just gravitational and not electromagnetic yields to the verity of Wheeler’s space-time foam, the pion mass that has both and resolves the anomalies of Prigogine Cosmology as the fundamental particles of a universe of primal electrons and quarks.
Yet, that these incredibly small particles are innately unstable, electrons popping randomly in an inverse link with their tiny masses is testament to the inherent transience of existence with which we grapple. Further, the universality of electrons and of the energy that propels them and the replication of their higher-order recombinants is instructive.
We marvel at the complementarities pervasive across the ages in the rootedness of our terrestrial sojourn in a wider cosmic realm. Yet, the further mystification of atavistic deities by widespread syncretisation that compromises contiguity of self-and other-awareness exacerbates our angst to assuage which our forced solitude wrenches.
We wonder why we seek solace in the heavens when our nature craves ardour in a bacchanal romance that soothes sundry souls and ensures the entreaty rite imposes creates the nearness of the gods for its positive receipt. Our peculiar worldview overshadows a perennial penchant for external validation, consistent with the prehistoric alliance that negated the state of nature.
Our polity ballyhoos egregiousness; our souls seek comfort. The natural incongruity of a symbolic reality muffles our creative bent, our descent into trite native to a rudderless tribe. Yet, we languish in jarring dread to impute our beings with enduring brazenness, lost in the transience over whose course we wager to control.
As we embrace cultural myopia, the chaos of doubt lapses the order of the gods that not even distance should faze. Our failure to value the convergence of faith as an outcome of ancestral convention mollifies our weary souls that may lead to a moribund trail. We hope that the gods would unleash their ire to redirect our lot; tacit contrition by default it seems.
It is not enough to subscribe to a common root; the changes we make incrementally modify our genes in the space-time foam that shapes our way. To nip our genes now seems routine with computer-generated living cells, markers of where we head. Pseudogenes no longer need to be nature’s errors, nor do retroviruses have to emerge de novo. We invent errors by mistake or design, and ignore their perpetuity for transient gains.
That we succumb to the perplexity inherent in directionless forays into a cryptic abyss does not astound but for the implicit diffidence of the act, the merry-go-round of an otherwise privileged existence wallowing in ennui, which even the gods would cringe to contemplate.
Indeed, it matters little to the outcome of our peregrine how far or near we perceive they are, the gods merely the medium for retracing our tracks along a determined celestial trip. In other words, electrons are indistinct, comfortable how they are in any human, happy to pop up in the cosmic hide-and-seek that belies the fecundity of a causal power play.
We could knock primal particles how much and how hard we want, and engineer its outcomes to change our genes. The end result remains the same. Quarks will be quarks; electrons, electrons. Hence we need to move beyond electrons and quarks, and explore the other worlds in the abyss that the deities in tandem further lead.
The promise of freedom is shackled left to rot. Our access to profound insights is worthless in chains, which our mundane ways ensures barring shame. It seems the way to gain, as transience intrusively reigns. Yet, we must prevail, in a celestial game that knows no gain if only for life to remain forever meaningful again.
We need not ponder the retribution of the gods. Sango rejoices that we pave the way, for the children to be happy again, and we all head the same cosmic way. So are all the gods through which all faiths are bound, in one cosmic family, in a cosmic destiny. We stumble and rise again, and a firmament of angst beclouds our souls. Yet, we are free to choose to roam in celestial bliss. And that is it; that it seems is the essence of our being.
We are in effect born to be free. Thus we could, as did our forbearers in arguably direr milieus, choose to collaborate, or to roam alone. Either way, we lose sight of our common destiny at our peril. Hence, we must act, to ensure that some among us take our endowment in this realm to a higher level, one wherein we justify our faith and the trust of our gods in a universal destiny.
Therefore, we cannot afford to leave anyone behind. We all have the potential to lead humankind along the path of our common destiny; genius is universal, hence health for all is the way. It is not too late to relish the rainbow that promises hope for a brand new day. Nor is it, to inculcate hope in the children for whom tomorrow we should build.
Even as the vicissitudes of life test our nerves, individually and collectively, somewhere in our hearts we know hope resides. It is our ability to dig deep within for the strength we need to try, and the courage to not quit, overcoming the challenges we face that makes us worthy of the privilege of our bequest.
In time, we would see the futility of conflict, and the beauty in peace. We would embrace the revelation of the essence of life that faith in our humanity bestows. Only then are we truly free and in harmony with the exigencies of the transience of our being.
