NEONOO, or PARADISE IN THE NOOSPHERE

«I think so also!» Alchemist applauds me with his eyes.

«There is one more moment. Is it necessary to enlighten everyone, even if „the salvation of the drowning is the work of the drowning“? As far as I understand in biology, the contingent here is the most diverse, including not the most worthy of the „resurrection“.»

Vernadsky excuses himself for a moment. Picturesque this spectacle is: an academician in a classic dress on reflection. For a classic outfit go beard, mustache, professorial mantle and velvet «skullcap».

«Perhaps, you are right, young man. Knowledge, of course, is power. But sometimes it is so destructive power, that it is better to leave the potential carrier…»

«With a nose»?» I «connect» to the academician.

«No: with cash potential, without „extra load“! Let, better, the potential destroyers will remain „soul of thoughts“ – without a human shell!»

«Soul of thoughts»…

I immediately disconnect from reality due to employment shock. I am really shocked not so much by the wording, as by the opening of the fact. The same is necessary: in a word, to determine what I would need a damn lot of hours and paper!

«And you said, that it was me a genius!»

These are the first words, with which I get out of admiration. And I say them, not at all following the installation «The cuckoo praises the rooster for praising the cuckoo». Attacking the throat of my own «ego», I am just courageously reward.

«And I do not give up my words!» without refusing words, Vernadsky refuses from a pedestal. And refuses with courage, match my own. But then I am «Their nobleness», in this context, at least.

«In that case, let me share the laurel wreath!»

Academician defeated – this time not by scientific reason, but the nobility «Their nobility is me».

«What will we decide with the „soul of thoughts“?»

This is an academician! Our person! That’s right: for whip – time, for laurels – an hour! Where is it to Maupassant – even with the true, in general, setting «Closer to the body!»

«With the „soul of thoughts“?»

I build a pause only for the sake of my own form. Simply put: for the monumental image: «The soul of the poet could not bear…"! There is no great need for posture: while we exchanged pleasantries with an academician, I had already thought of everything. Well, if not everything – everything is for a start. More precisely: for the initial stage.

«Let’s make the account, Vladimir Ivanovich! Podushny! Let us separate, so to speak, the wheat from the tares: to whom – to life everlasting, to whom – «in quite even the opposite». There we will decide, to whom to see with the eye, to whom with the thought only, to whom to manifest ourselves, and to whom to remain the «mindless form». We will take into account with an alchemist. Subjectivism is… objective: «in the struggle you will find your right». And you, Vladimir Ivanovich, while you rest: your hour will come…

Chapter three

«Where two or three have gathered in my name – there I am with them.»

I look around: the academician has not yet had time to «hide beyond the horizon», but this is clearly not him. And the text is not his! But the text is very familiar to me! Really is?..

«This is Lord…» the alchemist turns artistically pale and strives to descend to four points.

I peer and wave my hand – not a greeting, but dismissively (forgive, Lord… if you are… somewhere… elsewhere).

«No, mate: if it was the Lord was there, he would have been elsewhere, not here, all the more so „unmanifested“! And this is the next „unthinkable spirit“. So, do not rush to drop the body – and at the same time dignity.»

«The wicked and adulterous race…»

«Well, well, buddy: calm down!» I do not show the slightest respect. At the same time, I don’t show the author either: «no need to hurry!» The society must be returned to a full-fledged citizen, but I’m not at all sure of the need for this comrade to «return»!

Despite the clarifications received, the alchemist cannot determine the line of conduct. As a result, he chooses the «middle», although not a golden one at all: he fixes himself in a semi-bend. That is, from the support on four points the guy left, but the courage to expand the chest is not enough. That’s the damned legacy of the past! Okay, let’s not rush things. At one time, «the burdens of heavy will fall, the dungeons will collapse – and freedom will take you joyfully at the entrance…» «Chains» is, of course, «chains of faith», and «dungeons» are «darkness of consciousness».

«Why do I see you „not from within myself“?» the first comer is upset with the move. The first counter he is: an academician is the first one found. «Why do I see you as if you are made of flesh and blood?»

«That’s because we are of flesh and blood!» I do not consider it necessary to feel sorry for a friend. Well, that is, I am selling him the truth without anesthesia, although I know that it is very painful.

Comrade qualitatively «turns pale» – and even «lack of availability» cannot prevent him from doing so.

«And what about me?! Why am I not..»

«The expression of horror» completely replaces the «pallor» «on the face of the first comer». I continue to kill the comrade of true life.

«Well, if you really are the Almighty, connect! Say «Be it!» – and it will be! As far as I remember, you threatened to «build the temple in three days»! So there was the temple, and here is just an image! Go ahead, man: act! Only about the «wicked people»… that’s no longer needed: there no fools here! You understand: there is no one to «hang noodles on the ears»! And nowhere!

«I…»

The man «frantically swallows saliva»: obviously did not expect such an excess of the truth of life.

«You are Jesus of Nazareth!» I do without a question mark. I do it like the surgeon: no pity – but in favor! The guy shudders and drooped shoulders.

«Yes, I am Jesus, the Son…»

«With a capital letter, please!»

I «make a test shot» without the slightest compassion to the object of work. And then: «if not me – then who?!» Jesus, who is the «Son», «pulls his shoulder» again, because he is confronted with reality again, even if not as primitive as Renan’s.

«I don’t understand you, son…»

«The son of my father!» I appear to be the first «at the microphone» again. «Just as real as your dad is a carpenter! Therefore, let’s better – without the „fathers“ and „sons“! At a minimum, don’t claim a capital letter: „walk“ with a capital letter! Otherwise, I will demand proof!»

«The wicked and adulterous race seeks for signs…» «the voice of «Jesus» trembles – and I do not stand it.

«Again… But I asked you. I did want the best! Well, then do not say, that I did not warn you! So: if you do not want to get the bad, in the good it will be even worse! Simply put: if you once again talk about the „wicked one“, I will leave you…»

The guy freezes with a «drooping jaw».

«… No, not without sweet: without development!»

«???»

Well, what’s the demand for it: the first century… A.D.! This is «collective farm», in one word! Darkness! Gray!

«You will remain „insensible spirit“!»

The man «bends in the knees». I do not stay away from the process, of course. That is – with the «medical gun at the temple».

«Do you agree to remain nee Jesus – without claims on Christ?»