Chicago Public Library, North Ravenswood Branch Same time
Mark Alex Ziotrope had gone to the search engine and keyed in the words “brain” and “mind.” His screen immediately filled with possible trails to follow. He'd been given an assignment by Dr. Stephens to locate and report on some unusual facet of the mind-body relationship. It was punishment for having missed an exam because of basketball, an away game. He loosened his tight jeans at the belt, unbuttoned them and eased off on the fly, breathing a little easier. He had come back to this assignment several times now, and each time he found it excruciatingly boring. He had pleaded with crotchety old Stephens to allow him another area of inquiry, but the old professor would not hear of it. So here he was. He chose a selection entitled “Origins of the Brain and Nervous System.” His screen filled with an encyclopedic tale that read:
As the central part of the nervous system, the brain is the most highly organized substance on Earth. Lying within the protective helmet of bone, it is distinct from the body, which is built in vertebral fashion-soft tissue covering a bone structure. The head is built in crustacean fashion- bone covering soft tissue, like a crab. Some have called the human brain the giant crab.
“ Hmmm… like old Doc Stephens himself,” Mark muttered. He put the stuff about its being like a crab in his notes, along with the line about its being the most heavily ordered stuff on Earth. He read on:
The brain consists of the forebrain or cerebrum, the inter-brain or thalamus and the hypothalamus, the midbrain, consisting of the brain stem, that is medulla and pons, and the hindbrain or cerebellum.
Beyond bored out of his mind, Mark decided to bail and locate another site. When the new list came up, he skimmed it and liked the one called Isle of Brain. He'd hit on it before, and he found it a lot less stuffy and pretentious-and a lot more readable. The Webmaster was an ex con who'd managed to get himself released from a facility for the criminally insane. Mark thought that was cool. Not even Manson could get himself released from prison. This dude had to be sharp.
The site was far less scientific, far more philosophical and speculative, and Dr. Stephens had wanted something unusual, not generally known about the brain in the report. The Isle site was unusual, its master believing that the brain was altogether a separate dimension in which lived the cosmic mind.
Reacquainting himself with the site, Mark went to the welcome page to get the vital information-Mr. Cahil's full name and the name of the prison he had spent almost twelve years in. Cahil had begun the site while in the Pennsylvania Federal Penitentiary for the Criminally Insane, yet here he was on the outside and running a website. Cahil, convicted of a string of ghoulish grave robberies in Newark and in Morristown, New Jersey, between 1989 and 1990, openly talked about this fact and his crime-grave robbing for the brains of children, and in particular one strip of tissue in the brains that he fed on, believing it gave him some sort of eternal life and put him in touch with the “cosmic mind.”
“ This ought to rock Stephens. This is my report,” Mark said aloud, drawing the attention of a librarian who looked over at him and put a finger to her lips. He nodded and quietly considered his choices. He could play up the fact that anyone. And that anyone, even a kid like him of an impressionable age, could log on to Cahil's website and become a disciple to the prophet for the cosmic mind, a con. Mark read:
Cosmic consciousness or the cosmic mind-also called “cosmic psyche”-is the extrasensory-spiritual element in the cosmic ether. It is all pervasive as it coexists and merges with matter, and is the source of all mental power and vigor-or psychic energy-which constitutes all knowledge and awareness that all objects and elements share in a universal mind.
The human mind is fed from this great cosmic mind, a limitless reservoir. The human mind is part of and channeled into the vast mind, and the area of its operation in you and me is a kind of supra-consciousness that lies dormant in us-unless we choose to awaken it!
In other words, in every man, there is a region where all-all-can be known.
The site then went into a sales pitch for “symbolic” brain tissue to be consumed by serious seekers of truth and the cosmic intelligence. It all sounded crazy to Mark, but he found the pitch and the product as curious as the site itself, and he knew he had to include it in his report. Maybe he'd contact the Newark and Morristown newspapers for accounts of Cahil's crimes, add some pictures. Fact is, if he purchased the product Cahil sold as “substitute” gray matter to be cooked and consumed, he'd have something for show-and-tell.
Mark breathed in deeply and sent off an E-mail of thanks to the webmaster, expressing appreciation for his insight into the natural power of the human brain. He added that it would make a great report for his college project. He then logged off, stood and returned his little number card to the information desk, where the librarian-pencil nose and sunken cheeks red with embarrassment-quietly suggested he zip up his fly. With apologies he did so.
“ You do realize you can be expelled from ever using our facilities if you can not abide by our rules, young man.” She pointed to a sign that read:
No Pornographic Surfing!
Anyone breaking this rule will lose library privileges.
“ But… I only needed to loosen my pants, ma'am, a bad stomach. I was doing a boring research paper on the brain, honest. No porno stuff. Look at my notes, if you don't believe me.”
She glanced at what he held up and told him to be on his way. She then glanced at a report on the most popular sites being visited by patrons of the library. One that was coming up a lot nowadays among the young demographic was the website called Isle of Brain that the young man had listed in his notes. She decided she had to find time to review this site herself. The public library detested censorship of any kind; however, times had changed dramatically.
“ What was all that about?” asked the head librarian who'd watched the exchange between the desk librarian and Mark.
“ I don't know yet. Says he was on this site.” She pointed to the one she'd highlighted with yellow marker on her list. “But he was playing with himself over there.”
The head librarian bit her lip and shook her head. “People want to build a bomb, they log on to bombs. com. People want to murder someone, they go to palladin. com for a how-to manual on assassination. Porn's gotten so rampant on the Net that you can trip into it without knowing it. So, what is this Isle of Brain business?”
“ Not sure. I'll get on it soon as I find the time.”
“ Do that, and let me know what you find, Gladys.”
Outside, young Mark breathed in a deep mouthful of fresh air, free of stuffy and decaying books. He said a kindly goodbye to the library and walked calmly toward his car, secure-for the moment at least-in the knowledge he and his own brain were in sync with the hunt for the cosmic mind- for his report. He rested his notebook on the top of his car as he worked the key to open the door. He laughed, recalling how anyone with the courage and determination can find the cosmic soul and tap into it by symbolically eating some weird-shaped gray noodles that were supposed to represent the piece of brain tissue called “the real stuff,” and thereby no harm would come to animals or other living beings in the pursuit of one's ultimate quest for a glimpse into the universal mind-God's mind.
Cahil's site also sold weird clay-molded brains that the customer could break open, and within them a cache of oddly shaped, crosslike noodles rested on an island within. Cahil shipped these to buyers, who in turn fished out the noodles, boiled them one at a time, and ate them in lieu of eating the real thing that was supposed to house the soul of a living creature.