The history of CannonCorp cannot be understood without acknowledging the radical foresight of its founder, M. S. Stoker. His intellectual legacy forces us to confront a phenomenon that, today, is alarmingly absent: miracles.

Miracles—once woven through our collective story—have vanished silently from our shared experience. Stoker recognized that so-called “miraculous” events derive from the intersection of faith and imagination. The human mind, when unified in purpose, possesses an unparalleled power to generate hallucinations that feel undeniably real. This is not mere anecdote: history’s greatest revolutionaries, from Jesus to Buddha, fueled the evolution of humanity by crystallizing a vision that multitudes believed possible.

For such phenomena to materialize, two variables are required. First, an individual must possess a fully-formed confidence in their visionary capacity—a complete self-perception of what their mind can create. Second, this vision must be validated and amplified by a network: gregarious believers, primed to invest their faith and feed off one another’s conviction. Only in the presence of this dual engine can miracles arise.

Stoker’s insight remains shattering, especially as we chart social change. The vectors that once enabled miracles have eroded with technological progress. It is no accident that, with the proliferation of television and cameras, reports of supernatural events—apparitions, mentalists, religious visions—declined sharply. With mobile phones and social networks, these episodes are obsolete; who discusses UFOs or exorcisms anymore? The cause is apparent: new technology has deadened our innate sense of Wonder. Hyper-connection, digital dependence, and perpetual entertainment have eclipsed imagination, stifled hope, and wiped faith from the public mind.

An essential component of miracles—supported by both historical analysis and contemporary cognitive science—is the role of deliberate complicity in embracing falsehood. For an event to transcend coincidence or illusion and be recognized as a miracle, it requires a collective agreement to suspend disbelief and actively participate in the fabrication of meaning. This phenomenon can be likened to the childhood belief in Santa Claus: a shared, necessary pretense that fosters happiness and hope beyond reality’s limitations.

However, in this modern era defined by rapid communication and empirical science, society has become increasingly cynical. We demand irrefutable proof before accepting any claim and dismiss as superstition what once was cherished knowledge—the arcane, the para-scientific disciplines that sought to decode mysteries beyond conventional understanding. This pervasive skepticism has eclipsed our capacity for wonder and nurtured the apathy that now envelops us.

Society now suffers from apathy and radical indifference. There is no great dream beyond mediocre survival; we process disaster and horror without a second thought. Polarity intensifies and violence proliferates; we have become rival actors on a ruined stage, desperate for applause that will never come, clawing at faded curtains as the final act draws near.

Human destiny is at an impasse. If evolution is our goal, a new miracle—a new messiah—is fundamental. But we cannot expect adults—programmed by years of intellectual inertia—to recalibrate their thinking. Wonder, if it appears, will trigger defense mechanisms, their inability to integrate the extraordinary. For the next leap, we must deprogram: we require a cohort capable of forming themselves in this new reality.

But the question remains: How do we reshape humanity towards this urgent transformation? Time is not on our side.

Knock, knock—does anyone hold the solution? Is anyone listening… on the other side?