Ours has been called the "information age," for a wealth of technical knowledge at our command has never been great.  Specialized journals abound for ecology, ethology, and endocrinology and even exobiology.  That there are few connecting or unifying themes that can give separate sub-plots some sense of being part of the same story.  And it's still less evident how the latest scientific bulletins about how pulsars or elemental particles relate to our own life stories or matters of daily interest.  We have as a result a series of "factoids" and headlines without context or much sense of what is genuinely important, a culture that is rich in know-how, but that has almost forgotten the answers to the most vital questions of all, of who we are, where we come from, and how we relate to a larger scheme of things.  Religion has traditionally provided the storyline that, in the words of the philosopher Hannah Arendt, "reveals the meaning of what otherwise would remain an unbearable sequence of sheer happenings."  Lacking any sacred narrative to provide the answers, people now turn to profane sources to tell them who they are:  advertising, movies and the media.  The popularity of entertainment like Star Wars probably springs from the film's not too subtle mythic overtones.  But Hollywood isn't likely to supply any lasting sense of purpose for the masses who now feel directionless and confused.  For that, a more authentic story is required.  

Every preacher knows that one good story is better than a heap of dry data.  To give a personal example, I remember how my own brother struggled to learn the periodic chart when he studied chemistry in high school.  There are over a hundred elements, each with its own symbol, and while some are easy to remember (who could forget that H stands for Hydrogen?) others are not intuitively obvious.  My brother was having particular trouble with mercury whose sign is Hg until my mother told him a story.  "Where do we find mercury?"  she asked and answered her own query, "In thermometers.  What does the mercury in the thermometer do?"  

"It goes up.  What else goes up?  Helium balloons go up.  What is the most famous story about a helium balloon ever written?  Around the World in Eighty Days.  And, who wrote that tale?  H.G. Wells," she concluded triumphantly---"and that is how to remember that the symbol for mercury is Hg!"  I have never forgotten the symbol for mercury, and I doubt my brother has, either, even though Jules Verne was the actual author Around the World in Eighty Days.  Even a made up story is better than none.  

What we desperately need at this point, however, are true stories---stories that can rejoin mythos with logos, reminding us not only of the names of the elements, but of why any of it matters.  The old epics---the Bible, the Koran, the Upanishads---were grand and still have much to teach us.  But none is up to the challenges that face our planet in the next thousand years.  From genetic engineering to space exploration, the risks and opportunities ahead are unprecedented.  Outmoded legends will not do.  For the new millennium, fresh stories are needed---non-fiction narratives that are based in realism, but that also offer hope and sustenance for the human spirit.