CHAPTER 21 (A BIG ONE)
21
Electro-magnetized blizzard bliss.
It was just a flicker.
But a flicker stretched out across more than one moment.
Or maybe no moment at all, maybe this always was.
From what felt like an burgeoning immensity of mass constricted within the volumetric size of a marble spinning on its axis in the middle of a lighting storm that was telekinetically completely calm and sending off unilaterally unstoppable, infinitely energized waves of propagated space time across the known and unknown spectrums of the observable universe Albert Einstein awoke, although, slightly unsure of what he had awoken from, and even more unsure of what he had awoken into.
He looked around a room he did not recollect, confused by what his senses were now telling him. What Einstein was experiencing was actually the normal reaction one has to any amazing night of sleep full of deep, immersive dreaming.
Albert Einstein actually remembered everything. He remembered his birth in Germany, his life in Europe and America, his family and friends, his correspondences with other physics giants of the time like Bohr and Schrodinger, his work on Relativity and Field Theory, his eventual death in Princeton, and so much more.
Einstein knew he was not alive in the 1940s. Those days had come and gone, and were never to come back to him. Although he had no idea what time period he had actually awoken into, the time certainly felt different to him. Einstein laughed and thought to himself, “Time has a feel. How queer to have missed it and all the things it allows to manifest.”
He took a deep breath and exhaled. The deep breathing seemed to bring him some relief. His body was warm, and upon looking at himself in the mirror, he found himself to be quite young and rather handsome. He took off his white cotton shirt to unveil the muscles he had come to miss in old age. He flexed his arms and gave an approving nod in the mirror.
Einstein smiled at himself. “Whoever used whatever modern technology now exists to bring me back into existence has done a ship shape job,” he thought, “but this beard certainly has to go.” Einstein used his hands to feel and rub his overgrown beard. His hands had not been willed to touch anything in a long, long time. In the back of his mind Einstein remembered having no hands, and having no problem with the dismemberment.
Einstein heard the birds singing outside and recognized the song as that of the American Robin. The song sounded nice as it emanated through the air from the little bird perched on whatever branch it had deemed acceptable at the time. Einstein thought of Darwin’s birds, and then the one currently perched in song. “Is it your song that gives you the evolutionary advantage?” asked Einstein to the bird, “or something else, unquantifiable, that does so?
Having been an ornithologist in his past life, Einstein was please to realize their were still identifiable bird calls to be had here in whatever time he currently found himself. “Oh America,” thought Einstein, “land of the free and home of the brave.” Unfortunately, Einstein had yet to learn that most of the world had grown to resent America and her ‘exceptionalism’ as its rebranded neo-colonialism turned capitalism continued to ‘brand’ the world.
He felt the air coming in from an open window. Looking out he saw the greens of the trees and the blues of the billowing sky. At the tree line there was a gathering of deer. A mother, 2 babe fawns, and a gallant buck keeping its distance some 20 feet to the side. The sounds and smells of the morning peace emanated and permeated the space that Einstein’s brain now vibrantly filled. He was awake; he was alive.
Einstein sat up and looked at an electronic device that apparently told him the time, 11:00 in the morning, and the date, September 13th, 2077. Einstein laughed. Either this was an elaborate joke being played on him, or he truly had awoken encapsulated in his corpse. “I’ve been encorpsulated,” joking thought Einstein, in a surprisingly good mood for a genius who had just been jolted back into human reality.
Einstein thought deeply for a few moments with his eyes closed intent on taking in the Descartesian reality he was undeniably experiencing. He had been dreaming for a long time now both about his past life and what he realized now was going to be his future life. Einstein then wondered whether he knew he was dreaming the whole time, or was rather an oblivious dreamer unaware of the non-temporal, illusory nature of his dream propagated ‘reality’. The former, he hoped.
He now knew exactly when he was but still had no clue as to where he was except for somewhere in America, unless the American robin had accidentally been introduced somewhere in Europe. Although Einstein did not know ‘why’ he was, he felt a peculiar easiness and assuredness that even that too would soon make itself quite evident. He felt like a well traveled man in a well slept man’s body. He was a man who had ascended and descended a figurative mountain the size of Mt. Kilimanjaro and Everest combined and yet sat ready to do it all again, and more, with renewed pinache and vigor.
A knock on the door startled Einstein.
“You may enter,” spoke Einstein with a voice that had not been used in over one hundred years.
On the opposite side of the door Medenov had stood next to Alford smiling a fake smile. He felt like an undertaker ready to put to the stake all of Alford’s scientific hopes, dreams, and achievements.
He had lost all hope that Einstein would actually awake, so when he heard the rustling of Einstein in the room and his warm laughter, his smile became authentic. “By some miracle, maybe our work worked!,” thought Medenov excitedly to himself.
“Here we go,” said Alford quietly to Medenov as he waved his hand over the door’s entrance mechanism. The laboratory door of Einstein’s room opened and in walked Medenov and Alford. Einstein stood up and brushed himself off as his sleeping body had apparently collected a slight coating of dust.
“Good morning Albert,” said Alford, “it is an unbelievable pleasure of mine to meet you.
With those words at his ears Einstein turned around to greet his fellow men. “Good morning, and with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with on this fine morning?” asked Einstein.
“My name is Dr. Mitchell Alford. I am a particle physicist among other scientific realms endeavors, and this is my colleague, friend, and renowned Neurologist and Neuro-surgeon Dr. Alexander Medenov.”
“It is a pleasure to be acquainted with both of you. Mitchell you remind me greatly of my good friend Gustav,” responded Einstein quite amiably, “you aren’t, by chance, of Slavic descent?”
“You remember?” asked Medenov furtively, “That is, you remember who you were, I mean, who you are?” Medenov was clearly quite surprised Einstein had come back with all of his faculties in tact.
“Also, to answer your last question, no,” said Medenov, “I am American, but my parents were Russian refugees.”
“Unfortunately,” said Einstein seriously, “I am all too familiar with what being a refugee entails. Luckily, quantum mechanics tells us that everything happens due to chance and is inherently unpredictable. This inherently means eventually the world might get better!”
Einstein laughed and with his laughter the tension in the room dissipated. “As for remembering my life and everything I was blessed to experience while living it of course I remember it, of course I do. I remember everything so vividly. My youth, my education at the Polytechnic, my family, my patent office, my work, and everything else has all been flashing in my mind for what seems like months of eternity. I literally felt as if I was an ongoing eternal thought experiment on myself.”
“That is incredible news,” blurted Medenov, “and absolutely fascinating that you’ve been able to conceptualize so much, so quickly.”
“May I presume that you two are responsible for this undertaking of bringing me back to life? Only you two? Surely there are many others who helped you,” spoke Einstein.
“Yes, Albert, we are the scientists who brought you back. It was only the two of us who labored to bring you back to life Dr. Einstein; we could trust no one else.”
The room grew silent for a moment and offered up a tense air of unsure footing.
“Alexander and I are so ecstatic to have you here with us,” said Alford to break the awkward silence, “you were a visionary and since you’re groundbreaking work and research much progress has been made. Yet even in the midst of this progress we are still stuck looking at the achievements of your greatness. We have brought you back with the hopes that you may graciously lead us forward even more. Humanity needs you more than ever Albert. You will be surprised to find that many of the questions and discussions you and your quantum physics peers were having back in the 20th century are still being had today.”
“In a world as changed as much as it has how can I change things? Why didn’t you leave me to rot? God damn you to hell for bringing me back to life and making a monstrosity of who I was. I should kill myself in the back, dear boy, hand me a rope for a noose,” were the words that Medenov expected to hear from Einstein in response to Alford’s inquiring introduction.
“Yes, yes it does Mitchell,” replied Einstein, surprising both Medenov and Alford with his geniality, “the world needs us all. That being said I hope both of you would understand that all of this new existence has left me quite taken aback and somewhat bewildered. It has been a pleasure meeting you both and I thank you for what I’m sure has been painstaking work to bring me here. I look forward to our continued existence amongst one another, but I would appreciate some time to rest and ponder by myself.”
“Of course Albert,” replied Alford, “please don’t hesitate to communicate to either Medenov or myself if you need anything, we are here to help.”
“Actually, yes, there is one thing. I am extremely thirsty. Do you think you could fetch me a glass of water? Oh, and today’s paper would be lovely,” said Einstein. Einstein had yet to learn that newspapers, in their literal, physical paper manifestation, no longer existed on earth.
“Of course Albert, I’ll be right back with them,” replied Alford.
Medenov and Alford departed the room leaving Einstein alone looking out across the landscape. The clouds rolled above in the sky as if they were taking a midday saunter, slowly bathing in the late summer sun. Feeling the warmth of the radiant sun on his skin Einstein breathed heavily and relished the mix of oxygen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, and various trace gases that slowly entered and exited his lungs, extracting oxygen with each boundless breath.
Although it seemed like only a moment ago that Alford and Medenov had left, Einstein found himself listening to knocks again on the door.
“Yes, come in,” said Einstein.
Alford opened the door and brought in the desired affects Einstein had asked for. Alford had created a personalized newspaper full of all things that had happened in 2077 so far. Alford wanted to make sure there were still some comforts, however temporary, from the 20th century world Einstein came from. Setting the paper down and then the water on top of it Alford looked up at Einstein and smiled.
“Albert do you know who I am?” asked Alford.
“But of course, you just introduced yourself Mitchell. I don’t forget a name, and I certainly don’t forget a face,” replied Einstein.
“More than that though, I am your Student Albert. I have studied and delved into your relativities, philosophies, and thought experiments. I have looked at what you were able to do with atomic and quantum mechanics and it astounds me at how far reaching and leaping your achievements truly were. Generations and generations have passed and only a handful of minds have come along that are as stalwart as yours,” said Alford.
“And you are one of those minds Mitchell?” asked Einstein.
“Yes Albert,” replied Alford, “I am one of those minds.”
With those words silence drew in on the room, a moment of empty discourse.
“Well,” said Alford, “ I will leave you to peruse the journal as you please.”
Turning around to leave and open the door Alford was startled by Einstein’s emerging voice.
“Thank you Mitchell,” said Einstein.
“You’re welcome Albert, but for what?” asked Alford, turning back around to face the room.
“You have changed the world by bringing me back to life. You have changed it in ways I’m not sure you can even imagine,” said Einstein.
“Thank you,” replied Alford, “but I assure you I can imagine anything.”
“I believe, Mitchell, that you mean to say that you can imagine anything except anything,” replied Einstein.
“I beg your pardon?” asked Alford.
“The term ‘anything’ requires specification. Until that thing is identified there is an imaginitative void by which nothing is actually imagined yet,” replied Einstein.
Again silence entered the discourse, and then, the two minds laughed heartily.
“It is becoming quite obvious to me that I have truly met a soul who’s intellect rivals and likely outdistances even my own,” said Alford.
“I believe our relationship will be truly mutualistic my friend. Here’s to a long and arduous discourse,” said Einstein as he picked up his glass of water.
The two men smiled across the room at one another. Everything felt right.
“Well, I will let you be Albert. I’ll be in my lab, just use the intercom on the wall here to the left of me by the door if you need to reach me,” said Alford.
“Where is Dr. Medenov?” asked Einstein
“Ah, Alexander had a lunch meeting to attend to for his company,” said Alford, “he will be back around to the laboratory complex in a couple of days.”
“Good, good,” said Einstein, because I have a great deal of things I would like to discuss with him as well.”
“I’m sure you do Albert, Alexander was instrumental in the work undertaken so that we could have this conversation we are having here today,” said Alford.
With that, Alford finally left Einstein alone in his room. He took a drink of his water and took in the sensation of quenching one of life’s most essential thirsts, other essential thirsts being knowledge, freedom, and meaning.
Einstein picked up the paper and read the headline, “Princeton Students injured during war protests.” The picture adjacent to the title showed a young, sunglass wearing man holding a sign that read “the Middle East deserves peace.”
Flipping through he then saw an Op-Ed piece on whether Israel really had the right to be a nation.
“Life is time traveling,” thought Einstein, “and yet much of the world seems to have remained on the same old tracks.”
He continued reading and soon knew the president of the United States at that time, Martin B. Marshall, was planning on running for reelection. The scandal of Roger Barber and his robotically enhanced shoulders had struck Major League Baseball and was continuing to send ripples through the sports world. In scientific news a lead researcher in trans-human bio-enhancement surgeries, Dr. Arthur Ratheneau had gone missing.
Some in Oregon were stealing and throwing away large amounts of lab raised meats, and the national initiative to subvert the building pressure of the caldera underneath Yellowstone National Park finally seemed to be working. Reading just the day’s news had Einstein realizing just how foreign this new world was, and with that, Einstein closed his eyes to rest his genius mind.
Einstein opened his eyes to the click of the intercom.
“Albert,” spurted the intercom, “if it pleases you, I’d like to give you a tour of the laboratory complex in about ten minutes if you’re done reading the paper. The intercom’s microphone is automatic and will immediately pick up whatever your response may be so you don’t have to worry about finding some button to give a response.”
Einstein smiled at how rigid Alford’s speech seemed to him. “You could be a robot,” thought Einstein.
“I’m ready now,” replied Einstein as he stood up and noticed the dark brown loafers that had been placed to the side of the door. He walked up to the shoes and looked down at his feet and frowned at the green and blue argyle socks that gripped his feet. He promptly took off the socks and threw them across the room.
Placing his naked feet into the loafers he bent down and began to tie them. The door opened to his room and in stepped Alford.
“Ah, I completely forgot,” blurted Alford, “you absolutely hate to wear socks with your shoes. Not to mention, I appreciate the durability of the shoe much more than the ragged, hole ridden existence that socks often inhabit.”
Einstein chuckled and momentarily paused from his shoe tying to push back the bushy dark brown hair from his eyes. “Indeed,” replied Einstein, “I never understood the point of putting on both shoes and socks to protect one’s feet from dirt and destruction.”
Alford chuckled in turn, “Oh the peculiarity of the human condition. Here you hate shoes with socks on and I thought my disdain for hats was odd.”
Einstein arose from his shoe tying and rushed his hands across his body to take out the wrinkles that had formed on the forest green v-neck t shirt he had awoken in. The dark blue American jeans combined to give Einstein quite the modern look. For the first time he looked himself up and down and felt awkward in his skin, a feeling that Alford quickly noticed Einstein was feeling.
“Eh,” stammered Alford, “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m sorry. It’s just that, well, it’s impossible to find any kind of sensible clothing from back in your day. All I could find was trendy clothing for 25 year olds today.”
Einstein had finally finished taking himself in, “Well, truth be told, it is rather comfortable.”
“Oh” said Alford somewhat surprised by Einstein’s satisfaction, “well okay then good. I guess we should go ahead and get started with the tour.”
Alford turned around to head out of the guest bedroom only to by stymied by Einstein’s reproach.
“Mitchell, before we go, I have a few question that need answered. Who all knows that I’m alive?”
“Only me and Dr. Medenov at the moment,” replied Alford, unsure of how Einstein would take this news.
“Good, good,” said Einstein, “I was worried this was a government run experiment and you had brought me back with a mission goal of enslaving me to work on a new type of sophisticated, world killing bomb.”
Alford laughed, “Good god, no. Although, I do have a good deal of enemies, those bombs already exist.”
“The other thing is,” said Einstein somewhat abashed, “why did you bring me back as a young man? Did you think about the oddities that would arise from bringing back a man who remembers his entire existence and last remembers being an old man into a body he had long ago written off as past its time?”
Alford had been expecting this question, and had a good response saved for it. “Well see, going along with only me and Dr. Medenov knowing about your existence, we decided that the Albert Einstein that most of the world would recognize is the old, wrinkled man who had become a public icon with a face that has been trademarked. In bringing you back to life at the age of 25, we knew very few people would recognize who you were and you would thus have much less trouble with a general public that still reveres and adores you.”
“Reveres and adores?” asked Einstein somewhat puzzled.
“Since your death Albert the world has not had a soul like yours. The world has grown to love you and the work you did. You’re a celebrity Albert. There is even a Sunday morning cartoon with you in it.”
“Like Mickey Mouse?” asked Einstein now wearing a large smile, “who’d of thunk I’d become such a star while I was dead! Well, I suppose you have answered my questions well enough for now. Show me this great laboratory you have erected.”
The two men left the laboratory annex and began walking around the complex itself. From the particle physics and vacuum labs to the biochemical and genetic labs the two great minds milled around the circular enterprise until they had arrived in the ‘Thinking Room’.
Alford waved his hand in front a sensor and the lights came on giving a yellow abeyance to the desk and other constituents of the room.
“And here is where I do much of my great thinking,” said Alford feeling content with the way Einstein had graciously taken in the many multifarious sections of Alford’s laboratory complex and the tours completion that now seemed to be upon them.
Einstein went up to a shelve full of books and pulled down one that seemed familiar to him.
“General Relativity,” said Alford, “by Albert Einstein. Quite the accomplishment in Quantum Physics no doubt. How he had the imagination and intelligence to come up with such an incredible mainframe of understanding, I do not know.”
Einstein’s smile vanished from his face, “A man must be judged for the entirety of his work, not simply his greatest. We are the sum of our parts Alford. The atomic bomb is a monster my generation will never live down, and since now we’re all dead, all except for me, I’m the only one left alive to carry that burden.”
“It won us a war,” replied Alford.
“And started how many more?” asked Einstein dimly, “killed how many thousands? Threatens to kill how many millions? War breeds with itself inside the hearts of men, and the innocent are the ones that normally are made to suffer.”
“Well enough of this talk, scientists should have no hand in the world of war,” interjected Alford, clearly trying not to ruffle too many feathers with the new to this world Einstein.
Alford, in fact, was amazed at how perfectly Einstein already seemed to fit in the picture. His living likeness stirred Alford to be his awake and alive, full facultied self. At least, that is what he thought, as he sat their, proud of himself for his ingenuity.
“Do you like music?” asked Alford with a wry, old smile as if he were about to impart a deep, dark secret.
Einstein put on his Cheshire cat smile, “I love that question almost as much as I love music. Yet, I presume much of the music today is more bleeps and nodular noises than actual melodic intricacy.”
“You are a diviner and closer to the truth than you could believe. Yet, some people find modern music to be quite incredible. I, however, find that what modern artists create certainly stretch the bounds of what can be deemed ‘music’.”
“How Jackson Pollock of them,” replied Einstein followed by a chuckle.
“Watch and be amazed Albert,” said Alford as he stood from his chair and arched out his chest as if about to burst out a few rich chords himself. Instead, Alford whistled a few notes and music began pouring from speakers placed in various corners of the room.
The smile again returned to Einstein’s face. Alford opened a drawer on his desk and withdrew two wooden pipes and a box. In opening the box, its contents, tobacco, were carefully smushed into the pack of the two pipes. Done packing, Alford handed Einstein one of the pipes. Einstein nodded, grabbed the pipe, and began to inspect the wood crafted pipe now primed in his hands.
About to sit back and smoke a pipe with Albert Einstein, Alford took pause and internally asked himself whether now was a good time to start talking science. He looked across the table and saw Einstein seeming to enjoy himself and decided against scaling any scientific walls for the time being.
Alford had failed to notice the pipe had been placed to Einstein’s lips for a few moments. “Excuse me Mitchell,” said Einstein from atop his perch, but do you have a light?”
Alford again pulled from the drawer an old, worn Zippo lighter. “My great-grand father’s passed down from generation to generation,” said Alford proudly.
“You don’t say?” replied Einstein inquisitively.
“Passed down with a tradition of heavy smoking,” said Alford as he sparked his silver lighter and lit the plant Einstein clearly wished to burn. Crackling of red embers led to a frothing of smoke from the pipe and Einstein’s nose. The smells of tobacco and cherry began to fill the ‘Thinking Room’ with a thickness that glinted the light into opaqueness.
The smoke stymied Alford’s great mind. A constant thinker with a motor that never turned off, for once Alford reveled in his mental silence.
“I knew you’d love a good smoke,” said Alford as the two men sat back in their chairs and dipped into the relaxation of the classical music motoring around them.
“Mozart’s Requiem in D minor?” asked Einstein, trying to determine the music being played by Alford’s speakers.
“You have an impeccable ear Albert, that is indeed the song.”
“Do you play an instrument Mitchell?” asked Einstein.
“Upright bass actually,” replied Alford, “although admittedly I am not very good.”
“I was never the greatest on my ‘Lina’ either.”
“Lina?” asked Alford rather confused.
“That’s what I used to call my violins back in the 20th century,” said Einstein amidst chuckles, “although thinking on it now that is a rather silly name for the instrument.”
“Talking about his past?” thought Alford as he continued to purge his pipe of its contents, “clearly Albert is quite comfortable with me.” Alford, for once, was actually happy.
“You don’t by chance have some instruments we could play do you?” asked Einstein.
“Actually, I do, but they are the parlor room of my house.”
“Oh,” said Einstein as he began to take another pass from his pipe, “and I suppose its too much an inconvenience to go all the way over to your house from here.”
Normally Alford’s response would’ve been a quick quip about his lack of practice, dishevelment of his house, and how uncomfortable he was playing music in front of others. Yet, internally, Alford was in a different place.
“Actually, I had my laboratory complex built and attached to my house. All we have to do is walk around to the opposite side of the annex and from there we’ll be able to get to the parlor rather easily. I must warn you though, I cannot guarantee much musical competency on my end. I stopped progressing after college.”
“No worries my friend,” said Einstein, with the use of the word ‘friend’ making Alford heart flutter, “I, like you, have made no musical advancements in my day. Nevertheless, I am excited to see what Mitchell Alford the musician has to offer.”
The two minds got up from the table and proceeded out of the laboratory complex and towards the door that entered into Alford’s home. Alford snaked from his pocket a chain of keys and nimbly found the one that unlocked the door. He sunk the key into the door, turned, and without a hitch swung the door open to reveal warn wooden floors and floral wall papered walls of the home once filled by Alford’s former family life.
“This is quite lovely,” quipped Einstein as the two men proceeded into the house and towards the parlor. The parlor had green walls, and a large bay window that looked out onto the street. From underneath an ornate, 18th century chair Alford knelt down and pulled out a small black, violin shaped case.
“Here, let me have a look,” said Einstein as he knelt next to Alford and opened the clasps of the case. Unearthing the violin from its tomb, light bounced off the violin and was at the same time disturbed by the millions of dust particles blown off the violin by Einstein’s blowing.
“She looks lovely,” said Einstein as he placed the violin under his left cheek, picked up the bow, fingered his way across the violin’s neck, found some familiar fingerings, and swayed his arm back and forth to the creation of a soothing C Major. The violin should’ve sounded amazing, it was one of Stradivari’s last pieces of work.
“Still works, good to know,” said Alford rather directly as he was still busy trying to wrench his upright bass from its case. Alford, having finally pulled the bass free, flipped it around and stood up to draw the bass to its feet.
Piano keys twinkled and Alford turned to see Einstein sitting at the Grand piano filling the back corner of the parlor. “Don’t feel like playing the violin?” asked Alford confused.\
“I always found the piano to be much more fascinating. All of the great composers who sat in front of this musical instrument…the genius that fell onto keys just like these,” Einstein said as his voice trailed off intermixed with the piano’s soft clamoring.
Bass notes began to filter through the room, and with that, the two men began the musical tango. Alford rung out deep, somber notes as Einstein rambled away from key to key of the ivory. The two scientists, in all of their endeavors, had found a common ground in the foreign territory of a musical ensemble.
It is of no surprise to any who knew Einstein that, reawoken, one of the first things he truly enjoyed doing was playing music. In contrast, Alford, though gifted on the upright bass and proficient at a few other instruments, rarely shared or showcased his talents.
Nevertheless, the two physicists applied their practical knowledge of their respective instruments to a quick tempo and strong, sustained rhythm. Alford looked around the empty room and remembered all of the family moments that came to pass within the space in front of him. The music somehow gave new life to that vision.
“I miss my daughter,” thought Alford to himself as he watched Einstein move back to the old violin.
“I wonder if anyone misses me?” as he continued to parlay across the bass frets in what he had determined was probably, most likely, the Key of C Major.
The music the two played gave a vibrant warmth to the parlor room and as the sunlight glimmered and glinted in through the windows one could imagine the photons slowing themselves down, if only metaphysically, to exist and persist in a room with matter as dense as the brains of the Einstein and Alford.
Einstein, readjusted, began to take the lead again and ferry about the fretless neck of the violin, dutifully if not beautifully. “Although, not perfect,” said Einstein over the music, “there is plenty of purity within imperfections when it comes to music. Yet, with science, this cannot be so.”
Alford was immediately jolted back to cosmic reality with that question.
“You are absolutely right, Albert. What is it about beauty that allows it to require re-definition when discussing science and music?” he said above the tune.
Einstein simply smiled and went back to playing the violin as if he hadn’t heard Alford at all. Maybe he hadn’t. Either way, Alford too simply left the discussion alone with the hopes that it was only one verse of many that were split between one, incredible chorus.
