Boyd Rice - The Vessel of God

The Vessel Of God ‡ –– An Introduction To The Grail Research & Esoteric Writings of Boyd Rice ––

And to the Devil They'll Return...

The Alpha & The Omega

That Which Has Fallen

The Mind Of God

The Secret Doctrine

The Luciferian Legacy

The First Eden

Cave Of Treasures – Vessel Of God

And to the Devil They'll Return...

A Personal Quest, and a Brief Genealogy

I awoke to the sound of a ringing phone. I groggily grabbed it and put it to my ear. "Hello", said a voice on the other end, "this is Tom Bodette." I recognized the man's voice. He did radio ads for the motel I was staying at. "Congratulations", he continued, "you've just won a million dollars! Just kidding. This is your wake-up call." As I slammed the receiver down, I visualized pistolwhipping Tom Bodette. I was in a Motel 6 somewhere in North Carolina. I was en route to Durham to visit an aunt, meet a half-sister I'd never met before, and stay in an ancestral home of the Rice family; a cabin dating back to the days of slavery, now a national landmark. The man who owned the cabin was a genealogist and a family historian, Joe Rice (yet another relative I'd never met.) The terrain in North Carolina is strange and hilly. I could remember it from when I was four or five years old, and it looked hauntingly familiar. I recognized motels I'd seen in 1961 or 1962. At that time they were at the outskirts of town, in the middle of nowhere. By now they were surrounded by businesses, malls, and fast food restaurants. The town had grown enormously, and yet vast

sections seemed relatively untouched by the passage of time. My aunt Eloise (my father's sister) took me all over town. It was kind of amazing seeing places that I'd remembered, or half-remembered, all my life without quite recalling when or where I'd seen them. The old bus station, now closed. A certain park. A certain lake. An old bridge. I couldn't look at Eloise without seeing her as she looked at that time. She must have been the most glamorous girl in Durham: blonde and beautiful, and always dressed in flashy clothes. As a child I'd thought she looked like a movie star. There seemed to be evidence of our family scattered all over this town and the neighboring environs. We passed businesses owned by the Rices: jewelry stores, machine shops, and so on. It looked like there were a lot of Rices in these parts. Soon I met Beverly, a half-sister from my father's marriage. Beverly was a devout Catholic, and wanted to see the church where she'd been baptized or christened (whatever Catholics do) as a baby. Like me, she'd moved away from Durham as a child, and had come back to pay a visit to the ancestral home, and learn something about the history of the Rice family. We hooked up with Joe Rice, an affable old gent who looked something like Dave Thomas from the Wendy's commercials on T.V. We followed him out to the Rice-Pettigrew house, or as he called it, The Old Place. The old place lies at the end of a long winding road way out in the country. In the old days it had been a small scale plantation that had grown cotton, tobacco, and various other crops. They'd raised hogs, cattle and sheep, and seemingly had everything necessary for a totally self-sufficient lifestyle. They even had their own private cemetery on the property, where generations of Rice's found their final resting place in plain sight of the dwelling in which they'd lived and died.

Although the place is a cabin built of logs, it's not what you'd think of when the phrase log cabin is mentioned. The place is rented out as a bed and breakfast these days, and Joe has done an incredible job of maintaining its historical feel

while thoroughly modernizing it. There's even a whirlpool tub in one of its bathrooms. There are three bedrooms, two upstairs and one downstairs. There's a living room with a large fireplace, and an adjoining kitchen. The front of the place has a huge roofed porch, and the back of the place has a larger screened porch. You can sit on the back porch at sunrise or sunset and watch herds of deer wander by. Overhead, huge ugly birds soar about, making a godawful racket. I asked Joe what exactly the birds were, and with typical southern humor, he said, "down here we call 'em buzzards, but out in California they're referred to as condors." Joe really did exude an aura of the Old South. He seemed to evince a mistrust of "northerners", and retained some vestigial hostility over what had happened to the South in the war between the states. Although our family lived in North Carolina, the Rice's had fought on the side of the rebels. Joe still had a letter, yellowed with age, that one of the Rice boys had sent home to his parents during the Civil War. He read the contents of the letter, which ended with the phrase "until death, I remain your son." The letter had been sent from a field hospital where the boy had been recovering from a strange injury. Before he'd left for the war, his mother had given him a small New Testament Bible. He always carried the book in his left breast pocket, and would read it during lulls in battle. Then one day while charging at the enemy, he was shot. The bullet was meant for his heart, and would surely have killed him, but... it hit the Bible in his pocket. The slug nearly went through the volume, but came to rest toward the last few pages. As Joe related the story, he paused a long while for dramatic effect, and then said "That Bible saved his life!" He'd only suffered some broken ribs, but was incapacitated enough to end up in a field hospital, from which he'd sent the letter. It was a miracle, plain and simple. The hand of God had personally reached out to save this devout rebel lad, my ancestor. The story would have truly been amazing, but then Joe added, "and 21 days after he wrote this letter, he was killed in the Battle of Gettysburg." Whoa! Hang on a minute. Why the fuck would God personally reach out to spare the life of this soldier in a true life miracle, then turn around and allow him to be killed less than a month later? This addendum to the story rendered the whole miracle episode utterly meaningless. But perhaps I'm overly cynical. Joe showed us around the old place and spun further tales of the family history. Portraits of my ancestors adorned the walls, and the rooms were decorated with various antiques (spinning wheels, butter churns, and so on.) Since the place dated back to the days of slavery, I asked the obvious question, did the family own any slaves? "They owned 27 slaves at one point", he answered matter-offactly. "That's the most we're aware of at any given time. They could have owned more." Where the Hell did they all sleep, I wondered aloud. "The room we're now in was the slave quarters. They entered and exited through that window going up and down a ladder. I'm sure they didn't all sleep here. There were probably shanty shacks scattered throughout the property." The room was quite large, and it was easy to imagine that 27 people could indeed sleep in this single room. I'd certainly prefer sleeping inside on the floor with 26 other people to a shanty shack, except perhaps, during summer months. That night I slept in the slave quarters. When the lights were out, I gazed around in the darkness, seeing the same sights those slaves saw every night centuries ago. Except I

was in a huge, four poster bed, and not on the floor. My eyes eventually came to rest on the window. I tried to visualize people entering and exiting through it as I drifted off to sleep. When I awoke I lit a cigar and wandered over to the small cemetery. As I surveyed the markers it was hard to believe that the odd old names on the tombstones each represented a forebear of mine. The blood that flowed in my veins had once flowed in theirs. Now they were dust, and had long been dust. We later drove several miles down the road to another cemetery comprised entirely of Rices, this one even older. Some of the graves were so old that they weren't even fitted with proper tombstones, just huge misshapen rocks bearing neither names nor dates. One aging tombstone bore the name of a woman that had married a Rice, who'd originally come from a family named Boyd. Is this where my father chose my name from, a grave in the family cemetery? It certainly seems so. After all, Boyd is generally a last name. In 40 years I've only met one other person with Boyd as a first name. And speaking of cemeteries, I heard a wild tale that my grandmother was born in a cemetery on Halloween. How did it happen? Well, the house where my great-grandmother lived was situated in the middle of a graveyard, and she was walking home one night in her ninth month of pregnancy. As she neared the house, some holiday mischief maker leaped out from behind a tombstone and screamed at the top of his lungs. She was so terrified that the shock sent her into premature labor, and my grandmother was born right there in the boneyard. At any rate, when we returned, Joe produced stacks of genealogical materials. They had documentation that traced our family to a Thomas Rice who'd come to Virginia from England. Thomas was the descendant of an ancient prince of South Wales, Griffith Ap Rhys. Rhys is the original Welsh spelling, and the prefix Ap denoted distinction or nobility. Furthermore, Griffith's wife, Catherine Howard was descended from William the Conqueror, Kings Henry I and II, King John, and King Edward I. Thus, claimed the documents, our branch of the Rice family could claim royal descent from the Plantagenets. But wait: an unrelated article makes the claim that Griffith's father, Rhys Ap Thomas was the "natural son" (bastard son?) of Geoffrey Plantagenet, so there would seem to be Plantagenet blood on both sides. Furthermore, Griffith's mother Mary Howard, daughter of Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, is said to be another Plantagenet connection. What, if any, was Mary's relation to Catherine? Are they from the same family of Howards? It all starts to seem more than a bit incestuous, somehow, albeit thoroughly royal. If allegations concerning the earlier Rhys' Plantagenet parentage are true, this opens the door to the fascinating possibility that all subsequent Rices may in fact not have so much as a single drop of Rice blood in them. Could it be that for centuries my family has gone by the name Rice and we aren't even Rices? That in fact, we are Plantagenets, by blood if not by lawful name? The Plantagenets were kings of Britain during the 12th and 13th centuries. It is widely reported even in scholarly works that the name Plantagenet came about due to the fact that the earliest member of this line made it a habit to wear a sprig of a broom in his hat, and the name derives from the French word for

broom. In fact, what he wore in his hat was a bloom, the bloom of a plant called the planta genesta. This is a small yellow flower that grows wild in the fields of Europe, where it is commonly known as the Rape Flower (as in the Death in June song, "Fields of Rape.") At any rate, under the Plantagenets, the British Empire stretched from Scotland to the Pyrenees, at one time constituting the totality of the westmost end of Europe. The first of the Plantagenets was Count Geoffrey of Anjou, whose father, Fulk of Anjou had been King of Jerusalem, and had fought to drive the Saracens out of Europe. According to legend, these Angevin counts and Kings were descended from the daughter of Satan, and it was said of them, "From the Devil they come, and to the Devil they will return." In later years, Richard the Lionhearted would refer to his family's supposedly Satanic pedigree, citing it (perhaps humorously) as being responsible for the fact that they seemed to "lack the natural affections of mankind." Though the Angevin men were feared, the women were said to be far worse, and modern histories of the period relate the rumors which were at the time accepted as fact. One of the women was named Melusine, and is said to have been taken by surprise one night by her husband, who was shocked to discover that she had shape-shifted into a form in which her entire bottom half took on the appearance of a blue and white serpent. She keeled over dead at the horror of being discovered, but her ghost (in half-serpent form) haunted the site thereafter. Another woman known as the Witch-Countess had gained local disrepute owing to the fact that she refused to attend Mass on Sundays. Her husband had four of his knights take her forcibly to services on day, and during the consecration she dematerialized, leaving only her gown and the overpowering smell of brimstone. (In another version of the tale, she leapt screaming through the window, never to be seen again.) From what little I know of history, it seems likely that these nobles simply had their wives murdered, spreading the wild tales to frighten off superstitious locals, and keep the disappearances from being scrutinized too closely. It wasn't an uncommon practice, for instance, to let it be known that the Devil lived in your wine cellar, as a means of keeping local peasants from stealing bottles of wine. In fact, there is still a wine available today from South America, whose name translates to The Devil's Cellar. Unfortunately for the Angevins, tales such as these would prove to be a P.R. nightmare. In the book The Conquering Family, it is said: "The Counts of Anjou and their lovely but wicked wives gained such an unsavory reputation over the centuries that the people of England were appalled when they found out that one of them was to become King of England." They needn't have worried. The Plantagenet years were the glory days of the British Empire. It's certainly been all downhill ever since. It seemed hard to believe that six of seven hundred years back my family had connections to William the Conqueror or were royalty in Wales. Further reading turned up the amazing factoid that King Edward III has over 100 million living descendants, which helps put the whole matter into somewhat clearer perspective. Nonetheless I read everything I could put my hands on that dealt with these people. Virtually any book that even vaguely pertained to the Plantagenets contained some passing reference to either Rhys, the Angevins, or both. I felt certain that I'd only scratched the surface thus far in my research,

and couldn't shake the feeling of some strange sort of deja vu, that this all seemed oddly familiar for some reason. On a hunch, I dug out an old book I hadn't read since the early 80's, Holy Blood, Holy Grail. Sure enough, the Angevins were featured prominently throughout the book. According to the text, Fulk the Black's father-in-law had also been King of Jerusalem, a man called Godfroi de Bouillon. Bouillon, it is said, could trace his genealogy back to Dagobert II, Parsifal, and beyond that to the Grail family of Christ. The book's premise had always seemed quite straight-forward and believable to me. But now, in light of the implication that I might possibly be a descendant of the Grail family via the Plantagenets and Angevins, I re-read Holy Blood, Holy Grail with a far more critical eye. In re-reading the book some 15 years on, its premise seemed sound. It was based on solid scholarship, and tried to steer well clear of unfounded speculation. In short, it presented what I found to be an altogether convincing scenario of what might be an alternate history of Europe. Besides being King of Jerusalem, Godfroi de Bouillon was also founder of the Priory of Sion, and the Knights Templar. I'd never known quite what to make of groups like the Templars or Cathars. Everything I'd read about the Templars had been utterly contradictory, and predicated, it seemed, more upon the biases of particular authors than on anything tangible. Were the Templars Knights of Christ, or worshippers of Baphomet? Or could they be both? Much of the information relating to various members of the Grail family seemed equally paradoxical. If Dagobert II was a descendant of Christ, why was the capitol of the Merovingian dynasty in a place called Satanicum? That same territory was later ruled by Rene d'Anjou, Duke of Lorraine. Rene was also a Merovingian descendant, and designed the Cross of Lorraine, an emblem said to signify both the arms of Christ and the arms of Satan. Rene d'Anjou was alleged to have been influential in helping Lorenzo De Medici create Europe's first library. It is rarely mentioned, however, that most of the books contained therein dealt with alchemy, hermeticism, gnosticism, and related occult/esoteric doctrines. Many of the references I gleaned from Holy Blood, Holy Grail provided points of departure for further research. And almost without exception, what I uncovered was just as strange and rife with paradox. For instance, Catherine De Medici was later Queen of France (her son Francis married Mary Queen of Scots), and she was said to have stated that she was interested in "neither heaven nor hell, but only magic." She is known to have performed what is said to be a black mass. It purportedly involved a nude altar, the consumption of blood, and dual hosts (one white, one black), representing the co-equal powers of good and evil. A woman reported to have been a student of Catherine's was later to become the leader of an all-girl crime syndicate that very nearly succeeded in toppling the government of Louis XIV. Her name was La Voison, and she was called the Witch Queen of Paris. She was an abortionist, fortune teller, and purveyor of rare poisons, who moonlighted by conducting the Medici mass for France's most rich and powerful families. Louis XIV's mistress was a member of La Voison's inner circle, and was about to participate in a plot to poison the monarch when police intervened at the 11th hour. Upon her arrest it was discovered that many of Paris' leading clergymen were playing an active role in

her criminal activities, and dozens were burned at the stake alongside her. If this seems to be wandering far afield from the Grail family, please bear with me. Because two of La Voison's most noteworthy patrons and avid supporters were the Duke and Duchess de Bouillon, heirs of Godfroi. I could go on at length, citing similar cases. These aren't a few isolated examples which stand out in contrast to all the rest of the Merovingian history, but rather a small sampling of incidences which seem to me emblematic of the sort of paradox that typifies the whole saga. Some will no doubt think that I've scoured the material with a fine-toothed comb, focusing fetishistically on any oddities that I could conceivably interpret according to my own inherent predilections. But such is not necessary. All those elements which might at first glance seem to be the perplexing inconsistencies that plague this tale are in fact so inescapably consistent that they seem to constitute the defining ethic of it all. If this persistent dual vibe is representative of the secret gnosis that's the unique inheritance of the descendants of the Grail, I've been there all along. While the story of the Rice's ancestors in England, Wales and France reads like a history of Europe, their time in the New Country was not without intrigue. They were Indian traders, plantation owners, gunfighters, vaudevillians, and many, many priests. Thomas, the descendant of Griffith who'd journeyed to the States, returned to England to collect what was said to be a large inheritance. He had a plantation in Hannover County, Virginia and had sired 9 sons and 3 daughters. On the voyage home he died at sea. It is assumed that he was assassinated, and that his inheritance (which was never recovered) was stolen. Of his 9 sons, one was named Thomas Jr., who in turn had a son named Thomas III, and it was he, I believe, who built the cabin in which I was staying (thus beginning the Caswell County, N.C. branch of the Rice family.) The family, having survived the loss of its first U.S. patriarch and his fortune, managed to prosper despite the economic ravages of the Civil War and abolition, only to lose everything in the great stock market crash. Upon returning home, I sent Joe and his wife Avis a note of thanks along with an old C.D. I'd done with Rose McDowall. They'd waited to hear some music that I'd done, and this was the only thing I'd ever done that folks like this might possibly relate to. They wrote back saying that they'd enjoyed the album, but that it was a shame that someone with my obvious talents wasn't using his gifts in the service of God. But Joe, that's exactly what I am doing. (NOTE: the preceding article has been edited from a much longer text, due to the constraints of space. The complete text will appear in a book of essays, interviews and aphorisms, which will hopefully be completed in the not too distant future. B.R.)

That Which Has Fallen

How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! - Isaiah 14:12

“I

beheld Satan as lightening fall from Heaven.” - Jesus Christ, quoted in Luke 10:18

Terribilis Est “This place is terrible.” This enigmatic phrase inscribed above the entryway at Rennes-le-Chateau has been the source of bafflement to many researchers. Why would any priest affix to their church a statement seemingly so at odds with the function and solemnity of a place of worship? A few observers have noted that it is actually a quote from Genesis, yet stop short of actually speculating on its possible meaning in this context. The passage (Genesis 28:10-22) describes an incident that happened to Jacob. He went to sleep, resting his head upon a stone, and had a most unusual dream. In it, he saw a ladder stretching to Heaven, and angels ascending and descending upon it. When he awoke, he declared, “How dreadful is this place! this is none but the house of God, and this is the gate of Heaven.” He anointed the stone and decided that a temple should be erected on that very spot. What seems to be the relevant aspect of the Jacob story is what he saw in his dream: angels ascending to heaven and descending from Heaven. This is an unusual vision, to be sure. But there is another passage in Genesis that refers to angels descending from Heaven and walking on the earth. Genesis 6:4 says:

“There were giants in the Earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown.”

The word that is translated as “giants” in the King James Bible is actually “Nephilim”, which specifically means, “Those who were cast down.” The biblical reference to the Nephilim is extremely brief, and would hardly seem to convey any negative connotation. The “sons of God” took the daughters of men, and gave birth to a dynasty of “mighty men... of renown.” But immediately after this

short passage begins the tale of the Flood. The Lord becomes angry with man’s incessant evil and decides “to wipe humankind... from the face of the Earth.” Are we missing something? It would seem that there is much more to this story which is being left out in this telling. Indeed, there is. There is an entire apocryphal text called The Book of Enoch which deals with the Nephilim saga in far greater depth. It is, in fact, a book wholly dedicated to the Nephilim story in all its aspects. And its importance lies not just in the fact that it seems to be a record pertaining to the details of a missing chapter of biblical history, but that it seems also to be the retelling of a story that recurs in numerous mythologies: that of a race of Gods who come to Earth to teach man their wisdom (only to end up intermarrying with the Earth women). It is supposed that The Book of Enoch was written in the first or second century B.C. There is every indication that at the time, the text was regarded as a valid piece of sacred literature in its own right. The fact that it is dismissed as an “apocryphal” text is misleading. The word “apocrypha” simply implies that it was cryptic, and that its use was intended only for the initiated. It was referred to by such figures as Ireneus and Clement of Alexandria, whom, we are told, assigned it an authenticity “analogous to that of Mosaic literature.” And Tertullian called Enoch “The most ancient prophet.” Archbishop Richard Laurence, who first translated The Book of Enoch, notes that references to the book show up in The Zohar, saying: “In this celebrated compilation of what was long supposed to constitute the hidden wisdom of the Jewish nation, occasional references are made to The Book of Enoch as a book carefully preserved from generation to generation.” Despite this, the book faded somehow into oblivion, and was not to be found in Europe for well over a thousand years. Then in 1773, a Scottish explorer named James Bruce found three copies of the text in an Abyssinian Church called the House of St. George. Bruce brought the manuscripts back to Europe, donating one copy to the Biblioteque Nationale in Paris, and another to the Bodleian Library at Oxford. When Richard Laurence first published his translation of the text in 1821, Biblical scholars were taken aback. The Book of Enoch was equal in apocalyptic intensity only to The Revelation of St. John the Divine. It relates the story of Enoch the Prophet, a man reputed by some scholars to have been the same “Enoch” sired by the biblical Cain (as opposed to the great-grandson of Seth, also of the same name). The story chronicles how the sons of God taught their wisdom to mankind, and in so doing, unleashed a tide of evil. It starts off with a reiteration of the Nephilim scenario, except that in this version they are called “the Watchers.” As it states:

“It happened after the sons of men had multiplied in those days, that daughters were born to them, elegant and beautiful. And when the angels, the sons of heaven beheld them, they became enamored of them, saying to each other, Come, let us select for ourselves wives from the progeny of men, and let us beget children.”

So the angels, 200 in number, swore an oath to one another in a pact to take as wives the daughters of men. Such a pact essentially constituted a rebellion against Heaven. This links the Nephilim, “those who were cast down”, with the fallen angels of the “War in Heaven” described in The Book of Isaiah. Enoch continues:

“Then

they took wives, each choosing for himself; whom they began to approach, and with whom they cohabitated; teaching them sorcery, incantations... (and) all the secret things which are done in the heavens.”

And herein lies what seems to have been the real sin of the Watchers: to have shared “powerful secrets” with mankind, because “men were not born for this.” Each of the leaders of the Watchers taught some specialized field of knowledge, such as astronomy, the manufacture of goods, the dying of textiles, and so on. And certainly, while the teaching of such things as sorcery and astrology may have been viewed as ungodly at the time, one angel stands accused of “(teaching) men to understand writing, and the use of ink and paper.” This is odd, because elsewhere Enoch himself is described as a “scribe of righteousness”, and is often credited with being the inventor of mathematics, writing, and astronomy! The great crime of the Watchers was to teach wisdom to mankind. The subtext of the book would seem to be saying that wisdom begets evil. Like the Luddite sects who felt that man’s technological progress lead him away from God, and created all the world’s ills and iniquities, the author of The Book of Enoch is telling us that higher understanding was contrary to man’s true nature, and resulted inevitably in woe. This book is probably a far more accurate record of how the Watchers were perceived than it is a reflection of who they were or what they did. It is axiomatic that people fear and mistrust those who know more than they do, or wield more power. And it is also a given that people fear and resist the kind of change that accompanies knowledge and new ideas. This, by all accounts, is precisely what the Watchers brought to the ancients. We can see echoes of precisely this same sort of fearful attitude in an account of a certain tribe in Africa who were observed practicing a kind of negative eugenics. When a researcher observed a tribesman put to death a perfectly healthy child for seemingly no reason at all, he questioned the motive for their act. They replied that every so often a child was born who was too beautiful, too curious, or too intelligent, and it was simply understood that such people would eventually be the source of problems. Any individual who at so young an age was demonstrably brighter than his peers would inevitably grow up to promote ideas at variance with tradition. Such people create change, sow seeds of discord, and upset the equilibrium of the community, so such behavior constitutes a grave threat to the survival of the group as a cohesive whole. Consequently, dealing with the problem at the earliest possible time was not only prudent, it was a necessity. 1

In ancient times, wisdom was synonymous with power; and power, especially for those who do not possess it, is more often than not perceived to be synonymous with oppression. Indeed, the Watchers were accused of such when it was written, “Let every oppressor perish from the face of the earth; Destroy... the offspring of the Watchers, for they have tyrannized over mankind.” As is common in apocalyptic Jewish texts, the oppressors are ascribed mythic attributes. In The Book of Enoch, the offspring of the Watchers are described as a race of giants who “devoured all which the labor of men produced; until it became impossible to feed them; when they turned against men in order to devour them.” They consumed birds and fish, “devouring their flesh one after another and drinking their blood.” This sounds like the highly exaggerated claim of a peasant who watches his rulers feast on fatted calves while he and his family must subsist on porridge. But that said, we must keep in mind what many major religions assert, which is that there was indeed a time when giants walked the Earth. Why would diverse and widely separated traditions all make the same outrageous claim unless it had some basis in truth? Or more to the point: if it were not true, what are the odds that all these traditions would concoct the same lie? It must be remembered that The Book of Enoch was the first major text to be written after the Babylonian captivity of the Jews, and we can clearly see the influence of the Zoroastrian ideas which they assimilated at that time. We see a more clearly defined dichotomy between notions of good and evil, the elect and the unrighteous. Before Enoch, the Lord was both “Good Cop” and “Bad Cop” alternatively blessing and punishing, loved and feared. The Devil was, if anything, a bit player in the drama. But in the Watchers we can see an emerging prototype of Satan, the adversary. We can also see a variation on the theme of Original Sin. Just as with Eve and the forbidden fruit, the sin of the Watchers involved a specific combination of infractions, having to do with both disobedience, and with knowledge. If one were to look behind the mythic elements of the story of the Watchers, any number of more purely historical facsimiles of the events described seem to present themselves. What interests us is the persistence of the myth itself: the ongoing story of a race of gods and their descendants, who somehow come to be perceived as Luciferian. Often such figures are associated with water, the sea, or the Flood. At times they are presented as dwellers within the Earth (and often in connection with this, as giants). Some say that the Watchers themselves were imprisoned within the Earth, while The Book of Enoch places great emphasis on the notion that a flood was sent “so that their seed would perish from the Earth.” The question as to whether or not that seed did in fact perish is one of contention, because there is an interesting (and altogether perplexing) addendum to the tale. Enoch’s son Mathusala took a wife for his son Lamach. The text reads:

“She

became pregnant by him and brought forth a child, the flesh of which was white as snow, and red as a rose; the hair of whose head was white as wool,

and long; and whose eyes were beautiful. When he opened them, he illuminated all the house, like the sun; the whole house abounded with light.”

Fearing something was seriously amiss, Lamach went to Mathusala, and told him:

“I

have begotten a son unlike to other children. He is not human, but resembling the offspring of Heaven, is of a different nature, being altogether unlike us. His eyes are bright as the rays of the sun; his countenance glorious, and he looks not as if he belongs to me, but to the angels.”

Lamach entreated Mathusala to go to Enoch, who was “with the angels”, and find out the truth about his unusual child. At length, Enoch was located “at the extremities of the Earth”, and apprised of the situation. Enoch reassured him that, “the child which is born is [Lamach’s] child in truth; and there is no deception.” But strangely, he hastened to add that, “his posterity shall beget on the earth giants.” Then he foretold of a great flood that would bring destruction to all the Earth - except for Lamach’s son.

“This

child which is born to you shall survive on the Earth, and his sons shall be saved with him. When all mankind who are on the earth die, he shall be safe. And his posterity shall beget on the earth giants, not spiritual, but carnal. Now therefore inform thy son Lamach that he who is born is his child in truth; and he shall call his name Noah, for he shall be to you a survivor.”

What are we to make of this? The chief elements are highly contradictory, and simply do not add up in the context of the rest of the Watcher’s saga. Are we to conclude that the child, although in no way resembling Lamach, is indeed his son? Or that the fact that his child is foretold to sire a race of giants has no particular significance? Or are we to infer that Noah was in fact a descendant of the seed of the Watchers - that indeed Enoch himself was one of the Watchers? Enoch, after all, is said to have been the inventor of mathematics, writing and astronomy, the very bits of knowledge the Watchers had been guilty of sharing with humans. Enoch himself stated: “I am acquainted with the holy mysteries, which the Lord himself has discovered and explained to me; and which I have read in the tablets of heaven.” If the sharing of such “powerful secrets” was a sin for the Watchers and their progeny, why could Enoch engage in the same pursuit with impunity? Though the true nature of Enoch’s relation to the Watchers is deliberately left out of The Book of Enoch, it becomes self-evident when we examine the Hebrew word for those descended from the Nephilim: the “Anakim.” Just as the word “Elohim” implies the descendants of God, so

“Anakim” implies the descendants of Anak – that is to say, the descendants of Enoch. So The Book of Enoch, while outwardly masquerading as an indictment of the Watchers, was really intended as a vehicle in which to encode their great secret: that Enoch himself was a descendant of fallen angels, and that his progeny would constitute what he referred to as “the elect.” Like many biblical and apocryphal texts, The Book of Enoch is laced with contradictions. Indeed, all of myth contains an element of contradiction, ambiguity and paradox. Perhaps that is central to the mechanism of how myth functions. If we understood its component details in a more straightforward way, we would no doubt be denied the experience of its essence at a more primal level. The fundamental truth that we take away from the myths of the Nephilim and the Watchers is that they seem to be very much in accord with certain basic stories related in myths pertaining to the Merovingians. Though differing in detail, the elemental similarities far overshadow the more superficial dissimilarities. And despite the differences apparent in their outward form, they would essentially appear to constitute an identical tradition, albeit clothed in the symbolism of another time and culture. One of the primary symbols connected to the Merovingians is that of sea monsters, because of their supposed descent from the sea creature called “the Quinotaur.” The most well-known sea monster is undoubtedly the biblical Leviathan. He is very probably patterned after a much more ancient sea god, and although his mythology is far less cohesive than his earlier prototypes, it nonetheless holds some tantalizing clues in relation to the Merovingians. In some versions of the tale, Leviathan is described as a dragon who encircles the Earth, biting his tale, and is said to represent the “world soul.” In The Book of Enoch, Leviathan is described as a monster who resides in the ocean, and is female. The apocryphal Acts of Thomas characterizes Leviathan as a dragon who lives beyond “the waters of the Abyss”, and says that he is “king of the worms of the Earth, whose tail lies in his mouth. This is the serpent that led astray through passions the angels from on high; this is the serpent that lead astray the first Adam and expelled him from Paradise.” Elsewhere in the Acts, one of the sons of Leviathan states that he is, “the offspring of the serpentnature and a corruptor’s son. I am the son of he who ... sits on the throne and has dominion over the creation beneath the heavens... who encircles the sphere ... who is around the ocean, whose tail is in his mouth.” A similar theme shows up in the Pistis Sophia, in which it is said that, “The outer darkness is a huge dragon, whose tale is in its mouth.” This seems fairly emblematic of the consensus opinion regarding the character of Leviathan, with the notable exception of The Book of Enoch, which speaks of, “a female monster, whose name is Leviathan, dwelling in the depths of the sea, above the springs of waters...” The Revelation of St. John the Divine also equates Leviathan with the sea. Why a dragon, whether dwelling in the sea or encircling the Earth, should be synonymous with the serpent of Genesis, or evolve into a generic term for the Devil is somewhat perplexing; yet the connection is undeniable. And in the statement from the Acts of Thomas attributed to a son of Leviathan, he seems to be equating his father with Lucifer. This is intriguing, because another context in which Leviathan shows up is in one of the world’s most recognizable Satanic symbols. In one of Eliphas Levi’s depictions of Baphomet, the “Goat of Mendes” (a goat’s head within a pentagram), the Hebrew characters at each of the star’s

five points spell “Leviathan.” And the pentagram is a symbol central to the Merovingian saga. It figures prominently in the Rennes-le-Chateau mystery, it was used by the Cathars, it was encoded in the works by Poussin and Cocteau, and continues to be a key symbol for groups such as the Freemasons. But it also goes back to the beginnings of civilization, when it was revered by the ancient Sumerians. Some scholars even maintain that the pentagram, and not the hexagram, is the true Star of David. Such an assertion seems imminently agreeable, since the symbol generically referred to as the Star of David is more widely known to occultists as the Seal of Solomon, and why would two different designations not infer that two different symbols in fact existed? 2

Further, the pentagram seems an appropriate emblem for the House of David, because it is said to be representative of the secret doctrine of the antediluvian Watchers who taught their wisdom to mankind. Could it not also signify the living remnant of the seed of that antediluvian race, the descendants of which were the House of David, and later the Merovingians? If such a supposition were true, it is easy to see why such a symbol (as well as the doctrine and race it represented) might have been viewed by the ancients as signifying something demonic. Consequently, the pentagram, which may well have been a straightforward symbol, evolved over the years into a purely occult icon. It continued to be a symbol of central significance to the descendants of David, but their use of it was restricted ever more increasingly to more sub rosa, encoded manifestations. Even centuries later, the five-petaled rose would be a prominent monarchist device, and this symbol was well-known in occult circles as code for the pentagram.

A Beast of Neptune

So it would seem that key elements of the Merovingian mythos come together in the sea, the pentagram, and Leviathan. But Leviathan was only associated with the sea in some versions of the myth, while in others his place was in “the outer darkness.” Such seeming contradictions dissolve when you realize that for the ancients, the sea and the heavens were often conceptualized as one and the same. The vast reaches of the night sky, of space, were viewed as another kind of sea - an ocean in which the terrestrial realm was afloat. And more modern observers, taking this conception as a point of departure, have gone so far as to advance the theory that in ancient times, the world may in fact have been surrounded by a vast watery firmament which was held aloft via centrifugal force. Far-fetched though such assertions may seem, they constituted the thesis of a world-wide bestseller, Ignatius Donnelly’s Atlantis: The Antediluvian World. Such a circumstance, according to Donnelly, would explain why the ancients perceived the heavens to be synonymous with the sea. As the theory goes, this could have created a vastly different climate on Earth; one which could have allowed men to live much longer than current conditions (i.e., life spans akin to those recorded in the Bible.) This, too, could account for the Deluge, recorded in countless mythologies. If some cataclysm of gargantuan proportions had occurred to disrupt the watery firmament, the

resulting disturbance could have caused a global flood. Bizarre though such a theory may be, it turned Donnelly into an international celebrity in the 1800s, and his counsel was sought by both Presidents and European royals. Though by modern standards, Donnelly’s ideas would be dismissed as crackpot theories, in his day they were viewed as a scientific explanation of biblical events. Atlantis: The Antediluvian World starts out by analyzing Plato’s account of Atlantis both mythologically and archeologically. It explores myths of catastrophic floods from cultures all over the world, showing them all to be different versions of the same story. According to Donnelly, the myth upon which these are based is that of the destruction of Atlantis. He argues that in ancient times, far more ancient than recorded history, there was a highly advanced global culture made up of Atlantis and its colonies, a primordial “Golden Age” that preceded our current epoch, and was destroyed by a cataclysm of worldwide proportions, analogous to the biblical Deluge. It was from this Atlantean culture that all of our languages, symbols, customs, arts and sciences were derived. During their heyday, writes Donnelly, the Atlanteans went about spreading these advancements throughout the primitive world. They created civilizations on every continent and, according to Donnelly, it was the kings of Atlantis that provided the first mythical god-kings reported in the histories and legends of virtually every ancient culture on earth. For proof that there was a vast and highly advanced global civilization in ancient times, Donnelly shows the similarities of plant and animal species across widely separated continents, many of these species having been domesticated and cultivated by man for so many thousands of years that no trace of the original “wild species” can be found anywhere on Earth. He also shows that species of animals and plants which are absent on certain continents, for instance, in the Americas, can nonetheless be found depicted in the artwork of these continents’ natives, proving that there was a time when these species did exist there, or else, at least, the people of that continent acquired knowledge of them through trade. South American Indian tribes have carvings, for example, of elephants and horses, neither of which are native to the region. Donnelly also shows similarities between the gods of various world cultures, arguing that these gods were, in fact, based on the actual historical kings of Atlantis. Donnelly’s book was indeed the first of its kind, and all subsequent books on Atlantis have been based on his. Even before learning all of the information cited above in this chapter, our attention had already been drawn to the subjects of Atlantis, the Deluge, and water symbolism, because we had noticed an emphasis on sea and water symbolism at Rennes-le-Chateau. There was a grotto dedicated to Mary Magdalen, constructed by Sauniere out of coral (a material not in great abundance in a town hours from the sea by car). There were statues of Asmodeus and John the Baptist placed there by Sauniere, both shown bearing sea shells. There was the depiction, central to the altar in the church, of the Grail chalice being born aloft on waves of water. And there was an archway near the Calvaire, also made out of coral. Such symbolism was so incongruous, and yet obviously so purposeful, that we were sure it had to signify something.

When we asked the Rennes-le-Chateau tour guide where the coral for the grotto and archway had come from, she informed us that Sauniere had excavated it himself from a riverbed in a nearby town. He had carried it back to the domain in a sack on his back - a sack such as those used by grape pickers in local vineyards. Such an explanation seems straightforward enough at first hearing, until one considers that in Sauniere’s day, a trip to the nearest town, back and forth on foot, lugging rocks uphill in one direction, would surely have constituted a day’s journey, at least. And given the amount of coral used in the construction of the grotto alone, Sauniere would have had to make such a journey dozens of times. While we know that coral cannot generally be found in freshwater riverbeds hundreds of miles from the sea, we found ample evidence to indicate that this whole region was once underwater. Just outside our mountaintop hotel we found huge rocks embedded with sea shells. It seemed conceivable that there might also be ancient coral formations in the vicinity as well. But whether Sauniere had gotten the materials from somewhere in the region or had journeyed all the way to the Riviera, the same conclusion was inescapable. He had gone to an incredible amount of trouble to procure this specific building material, and it must have been done to communicate a specific idea: that of the sea. The royal family most closely associated with Rennes-le-Chateau, that of the Merovingian kings, was also clearly represented by sea symbolism. As we have stated, their name stems from “mer”, the French word for “sea”, and as we know, their progenitor, Meroveus, was supposedly spawned by the mythical sea creature called “the Quinotaur. We began looking for an explanation of just exactly what this creature was, but this proved elusive. None of the betterknown encyclopedias of mythology contain any mention of a being by this name. The only reference we were able to find was that cited in Holy Blood, Holy Grail, where it is described as “a beast of Neptune.” The statement that the Quinotaur is “of Neptune” (the Roman Poseidon) is presumed to be merely an allusion to the fact that the creature resides in the sea, Neptune’s realm. However, as our research hitherto came to suggest, the Quinotaur may have actually been a representation of a primordial sea god – the one upon which the figures of Neptune and Poseidon may have been based. And Poseidon was, as legends state, one of the kings of Atlantis. The tradition of sea gods is as ancient as that of sun gods. And just as sun gods were often depicted as having the head or body of a bird, so the sea gods were represented as being part-fish. The sea was a potent symbol in ancient times. Water was viewed as a substance that represented a kind of intermediary plane between the terrestrial realm and the celestial. Heaven was above the waters, and Earth below. Mythical creatures associated with water or the sea were seen, then, to exist between two planes, or on two planes at once: the physical and the spiritual. Such creatures were emblematic of the divine spirit having descended into matter, the flesh. This is what Simon Magus referred to when he described the two aspects of the One. One aspect was above, in “the unbegotten power”, the other below, “in the stream of waters, begotten in the image.” Images of water and the sea recur frequently in biblical texts,

apocryphal texts, and Gnostic texts. Biblical names such as “Mary” and “Miriam” both derive from the Latin word for the sea. Mary was the name both of Christ’s mother, and his consort Mary Magdalen. And of crucified Messiahs known to the ancient world, no less than seven had mothers whose names were Mary (or some derivation thereof). Are we to conclude that this fact represents a bizarre coincidence, or that the sea was in fact a powerful symbol to the ancients - one whose meaning has grown obscure through the passage of time? And too, are we to conclude that within the context of the Merovingians, the sea was purely emblematic of an existence straddling two planes, or could it also be a reference to something far more tangible as well? Indeed, the symbolism refers to something very specific, as we were soon to discover. While looking up the Merovingian kings Dagobert I and II in an encyclopedia one day, we had noticed that their entries were placed right next to that of “Dagon”, a sea god worshipped in the ancient world, and mentioned in the Bible as the patron deity of the Philistines. “Dagon” comes from the root word “Dag”, which means, among other things, “fish.” Given the similarity between “Dagon” and “Dagobert”, as well as the tale of the Merovingians’ descent from a sea creature, we began to feel that we were really onto something. Dagon’s name is suggestive of dragon, and this association becomes even further compounded by the fact that King Dagobert was recorded by some chroniclers as being called King Dragobert. In reference to Dagon, Dragons and the sea, Albert Pike writes in Morals an Dogma that:

“The

Dragon was a well-known symbol of the waters, and of great rivers; and it was natural that... the powerful nations of the alluvial plains... who adored the dragon or the fish, should themselves be symbolized under the form of dragons.”

And Later:

“Ophioneous,

in the old Greek mythology, warred against Kronos... and was cast into his proper element, the sea. There he is installed as the Sea God ... Dagon, the Leviathan of the watery half of creation.”

In ancient reliefs, Dagon is depicted as a man dressed as a fish. He looks stern, somber, and has the authoritative bearing of a priest or king. He wears a massive fish head as a hat, and the fish’s scaly hide hangs down his back. The shape of the fish head and the contours of its mouth, pointed skyward, are suggestive of the miter worn by the Pope and other officials of the Catholic church; and indeed, some maintain that the genesis of such regalia may date

back to this time. So, likewise, may the fish imagery affiliated with orthodox Christianity. The fish symbol associated with Christ, as we have stated, is called by the Greek word “Icthys”, meaning (like “dag”) “fish.” This word, in turn, is formed of the first letters of each word from the Greek phrase “Jesus Christ, God - Son - Savior.” According to legend, Dagon was a god who came from out of the sea to teach mankind the secrets of civilization, such as science, agriculture, and the arts. Yet again, like in the tale of the Watchers, we encounter a legendary being who comes from another realm to teach humanity evolutionary wisdom. In another version of the same tale, Dagon is called “Annedotus.” He too emerges from the sea to disperse great secrets to mankind. But there is an important variation to the story: Annedotus begets a race, the members of which become the teachers of mankind, the “Annedoti.” Note the similarity to the names that appear in a Semitic Sumerian myth very much of the same ilk. In this telling, the god Anu comes to Earth, bringing knowledge, and sires a race called the “Annunaki.” This seems to be yet another recapitulation of the same myth, varying only in detail. Our hypothesis, in this regard, seems to be borne out by the assertions of some Sumeriologists who say that “Annunaki” is simply a term meaning “Lords of the Deep Waters.” And “Annunaki” is also obviously a variation of the previously-discussed “Anakim.” Therefore, if the Annunaki are descendants of Anu, and Anakim are the descendants of Enoch, Anu is undoubtedly a Mesopotamian variation on the same historical figure. Another sea god associated with both Dagon and Annedotus is Oannes, a deity part-man, part-fish, who appeared “from that part of the Erythrean sea which borders on Babylon”, according to the historian Berossus. As that chronicler describes it, Oannes too imparted great knowledge to ancient man, and gave him:

“...insight into the letters and sciences and arts of every kind. He taught them to construct cities, to found temples, to compile laws, and explained to them the principles of geometrical knowledge. He made them distinguish the seeds of the Earth, and showed them how to collect the fruits. In short, he instructed them in everything which could tend to soften manners and humanize their lives. From that time, nothing has been added by way of improvement to their lives.”

According to legend, Oannes spent the day among men, passing down his teachings, but when the sun set, he (according to H.P. Blavatsky’s The Theosophical Glossary), “retired again into the sea, passing the night in the deep, for he was amphibious.” [Emphasis ours.] As Blavatsky states, this simply implied that Oannes:

“...belonged

to two planes: the spiritual and the physical. For the Greek word amphibios means simply ‘life on two planes’... The word was often applied in

antiquity to those men who, though still wearing a human form, had made themselves almost divine through knowledge, and lived as much in the spiritual, supersensuous regions as on Earth.”

In other words, the man/fish symbolism relates to what was perceived as Oannes’ dual nature: part human, part divine and mythic. Such an idea is confirmed when we look to a later incarnation of Oannes as the Roman god Janus. By such time, the sea symbolism had vanished, and his dual nature was depicted in the form of two faces. In an interesting footnote, Oannes is also the figure from whom we derive the names Jonah and John (via Johannes), two Biblical figures equally associated with the imagery of water.

The Lord of the Flood

The Oannes/Dagon/Nephilim theme appears to show up elsewhere in Greek mythology, in the story of the Titans. The Titans were a race of gods who, like the offspring of the Watchers, were giants. When the primordial god “Ouranos” (a permutation of “Oannes”) had an incestuous liaison with his mother, Gaia, she gave birth to twelve giants, the Titans. According to Ignatius Donnelly, “The empire of Atlantis was clearly the empire of Atlantis.” When the powerful race of Titans rebelled against the authority of the parental gods, they were cast into the abyss, imprisoning them in the underworld. This, then, would be analogous to the destruction of Atlantis. And the Titans are obviously connected to the Tritons, a race of gods spawned by Poseidon and Amphitrite. Rather than being giants, the Tritons were hybrid fish-men. Also of interest in regard to Poseidon’s name was alternately spelled “Poseidaon”, and Dagon was also called “Daonos.” Another title of Dagon was “Daos”, which is so similar in sound to words such as “deus” and “dios” that our primary words for “deity” may well have had their genesis in this strange fish-god. 3

4

In Plato’s Critias, it is evident that the Titans and the Tritons are one and the same. They are the offspring of Poseidon and a mortal woman, and are giants. Their story told is very much that of the Watchers, with a key difference. Here, it is the human element of their nature that leads to their corruption and ultimate downfall. Plato writes:

“For many generations, as long as the divine nature lasted in them, they were obedient to the laws, and well-affectioned toward the gods, who were their kinsmen... but when the divine portion began to fade away in them, and became diluted too often, and with too much of the mortal admixture... human nature got the upper hand, then, they being unable to bear their fortune, became unseemly, and to him who had eyes to see, they began to appear base, and had lost the fairest of their precious gifts; but to those who had no eye to see

the true happiness, they still appeared glorious and blessed at the very time when they were filled with unrighteous avarice and power. Zeus, the god of gods, who rules with law, and is able to see into such things, perceiving that an honorable race was in a most wretched state, and wanting to inflict punishment on them, that they might be chastened and improved, collected all the gods into his most holy habitation, which, being placed in the center of the world, sees all things that partake of generation. And when he had called them all together he spake as follows...”

Unfortunately, we will never know what Zeus said, as Plato’s manuscript ends abruptly at this point. The tale related in Critias is interesting not only for its striking similarities to other such stories we have examined, but also for the glaring dissimilarities. Rather than casting the gods into the abyss “for all time“, Zeus merely imprisons them in “his most holy habitation.” Rather than wanting to “wipe their seed from the face of the Earth”, Zeus merely wants to see them “chastened and improved.” And their sin was due not to any willful rebellion against God (or the gods), but was a byproduct of miscegenation with humans; which lead to their divine nature being overshadowed by the human. There are hints of this in The Book of Enoch, wherein the mortal wives of the Watchers seem literally to be blamed for “defiling” the angels. Plato’s version of the Titan/Triton tale seems almost to end on a hopeful note, as though the chance exists that these gods might possibly be reformed somehow. There are numerous permutations of this saga. The names of the gods and the details of the story vary quite a bit in the different tellings. In some versions, one of the sons of Poseidon is Dagon. Oftentimes when Oannes or Dagon are referred to in print, the same picture is used to depict them both. It is an Assyrian relief, showing a man wearing a fish’s head as a hat. The figure portrayed is plainly a man, and the fish regalia he is wearing clearly seems to be some form of ceremonial garb. He seems to be perhaps a priest or a king, and it is quite evident that no one at the time this relief was carved had any illusions that he was in any way a sea creature. On the contrary, he was clearly a man invoking the symbolism of the sea in order to align himself in the public mind with whatever symbolic connotations such an archetype would have embodied at that time. Scholars seem to concur that Oannes, Dagon, and Annedotus are merely different names which all refer to essentially the same mythological character. And yet the Assyrian relief would seem to contradict such a premise. It would seem to bear a kind of mute testimony to the possibility that all three of the aforementioned figures may have had their genesis in what was at one time a real historical personage. In the modern era, we have witnessed even trivial pop culture figures take on a mythic character, morphing from mere singers or actors into figures of an almost religious veneration. We have witnessed the proliferation of urban legends - bizarre tales that are patently untrue and baseless, yet inspire widespread belief. And we have seen (repeatedly) people adapt fanatical beliefs which contradict all the well-established facts relating to

exceedingly well-documented public events. (For instance: those who say that Elvis is alive, O.J. Simpson was framed, and so on.) All this we have seen in our own lifetime, and in an age supposedly defined by realism and skepticism, an age in which every public event is documented in such thorough detail that even those with an intense interest in the subject become bored, and even those not paying attention know more about the topic than they care to. If we can observe such a dissonance between fact and myth, truth and belief, in our own time, imagine the inherent possibilities of such a process in an age ruled by superstition, in which information was passed on by means of an oral tradition. It is probably safe to assume that the symbolism associated with Dagon and Oannes was at one time perceived as straightforward, and was readily understood by those who first heard their stories. With the passage of time, as such tales spread to other lands and other peoples, the meaning became lost, and what was once pure symbolism was taken at face value. Remember, when early Babylonians and Egyptians saw a depiction of a man with a hawk’s head, they in no way imagined that it represented an entity part-human, part-bird. They understood that the hawk was a symbol of the Sun, and that this composite of man/bird was intended to infer a special relationship to the Sun, or to the god symbolized by the Sun. The earliest kings of which we know were deified kings: god-kings. They were identified with both fire and water, the sun and the sea. They had solar titles, and lunar titles. If Dagon and Oannes were once historical figures, they were probably among the descendants of such a line of god-kings. And if such a thesis were true, they undoubtedly had possessed a greater than usual association with the sea. In fact, certain of these kings were so thoroughly identified with water that they are actually remembered as sea-kings. They were the rulers of an ancient empire known as Sumeria. Sumeria is the oldest historically documented civilization known to man. Long before Greece and Rome had attained their golden age, Sumeria was already ancient. Those in search of the roots of early history often go back to the glory days of the pharaohs of Egypt, and yet Egypt too was in its infancy at a time when Sumeria had long been the center of the world. For all intents and purposes, Sumeria seems to have entered the world stage as a high civilization. It wasn’t there, and then suddenly it was - complete with arts, sciences, astronomy, navigation, agriculture, and all the complexities of a highly-evolved culture. All of which leaves the modern observer to ponder exactly how such a society could appear out of nowhere and nothing into such a fully-realized entity, seemingly instantaneously. The elements that define a high culture evolve slowly and incrementally over a vast expanse of time. One cannot learn to run without first knowing how to walk, and walking begins with baby steps. Yet ancient Sumeria seems to have leap-frogged over and beyond the baby steps of civilization. How did they do it? Their explanation is quite simple and straightforward: they were taught everything they knew by a race of gods. The first king of Sumeria was also the first god of Sumeria. He was a deified king named Ia, and he was known as “the Lord of the Flood”, or “Lord of the Deep Waters.” The name “Ia” served as the basis of god-names from many

subsequent cultures, including (but not limited to) “Jah”, “Ihah”, “Yahweh”, “Jove”, “Jehovah”, “Allah”, “Janus”, “Ianus”, “Uranus”, “Ouranos”, and “Oannes.” An illustration of Ia from a Sumerian seal, circa 2730 BC depicts him as a bearded figure, sitting on a throne, holding vases from which water is flowing. At his feet are more vases overflowing with streams of water, and indeed the very throne on which he is seated seems to be held aloft by water. This is interesting, because a number of passages from the Bible describing God on his throne would appear to be straightforward references to this very picture of Ia, the first Sumerian god-king. In Revelation 22 it says: “And then the angel showed me the river of the waters of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God.” [Emphasis ours.] Psalm 33 tells us that God “gathers the waters of the sea into jars”, and Psalm 33 states that, “The Lord sits enthroned over the Flood. The Lord is King forever.” Ia was a king. He was also the Lord of the Flood. And these enigmatic passages from the Bible seem to bear testimony to the fact that the Judeo-Christian Jehovah was indeed originally patterned on the far more ancient Sumerian figure of Ia. In fact, many of the major figures from the Bible can be traced back to the deified kings of Sumeria. There are, as we shall soon see, figures equivalent to Adam, Cain, Enoch, and even Moses. Their stories are, at times, nearly identical, and the names of the figures involved bear a striking similarity to their biblical counterparts. There is the first man, “Adamu”, a locale called Eden, the story of the Flood, and the tale of the child placed into a boat of reeds and set adrift on a river. The correspondences are so self-evident as to speak for themselves. But we are less interested in the myriad correspondences between the Sumerians and biblical history than we are in the possible clues ancient Sumeria might yield in regard to some of the more enigmatic aspects of the Merovingian saga. And the first clue is to be found in the depiction of the god-king Ia described previously. In this picture, Ia, dressed in flowing robe and crown, is seated on his throne before an audience of several people bedecked in ceremonial garb. The audience members could represent royal personages of different nations in their native dress, or they could merely be his priests or functionaries. In his right hand, Ia holds aloft a vase from which water gushes forth. Emerging from the vase, and from the springs of water flowing out, we see what can clearly only be described as a fleur-de-lys. During the Middle Ages, the fleur-de-lys was the primary emblem of French royalty. It is to be seen in abundance on the heraldry of French and latter British royalty. It was a symbol essentially synonymous with France. And it is a symbol that pervades the church at Rennes-le-Chateau, more perhaps even than the Christian cross. Most people would probably assume that an emblem so closely linked to the French identity probably arose at a time when the old Frankish territories were coalescing into a cohesive national entity. In fact, Frankish legends state that the symbol was handed down by God himself to the Merovingian king Clovis I. Yet this depiction of a fleur-de-lys arising from water can be dated to 2,730 years before the birth of Christ! Some scholars tell us that the fleur-de-lys is the stylized representation of a lily, a symbol associated with King David. Thus, the fleur-de-lys was employed as an emblem of Davidic descent. But the depiction of King Ia predates King David by close to two millennia, and the rendering itself is from a period far later than

Ia’s actual kingship. All we can reasonably surmise is that the fleur-de-lys, or lily, seems to have been an emblem of kingship dating back to the earliest period of recorded history. The clear implication would seem to be that if, as some scholars maintain, the fleur-de-lys is symbolic of a specific royal bloodline, then the Merovingians (and indeed, much of European royalty) can trace their descent back to a figure who was both the first known king, and the first known god. Ia was known as “the Lord of the Flood” and “the Lord of the Deep Waters” because he was associated with both the onset of the Flood, and in a certain sense with the recovery of civilization after the Flood. To the Babylonians, Akkadians and Chaldeans on he was known as “Ea”, the “God of the Abyss”, and was depicted as a god who was part-man, part-fish. Was the “Abyss” from whence came Ia and his race the sea (often called “the Abyss”), the sky (also so-called because it was perceived as a “celestial sea”), or, as most modern minds would tend to think, a subterranean realm – the underworld? The ancient accounts of these gods contain clues indicating all three possibilities. Ignatius Donnelly has offered what might be a very straightforward explanation for this conundrum. According to him, the ancients perceived the lands beyond where the Sun set in the West to be the underworld. Beyond the horizon existed a land of the dead, where the Sun sank each day to die. Thus people from the West could very well have been seen to be coming from the underworld. Conversely, people coming from the East, where the Sun was reborn each dawn, may have been perceived as coming forth from the heavens. And either group, coming from a land which was unseen or unknown to the indigenous population, could very possibly have been viewed as coming out of the ocean itself. This makes sense. The ancient Sumerian kings are known as sea-kings because they were legendary navigators. Millennia before Columbus, these sea kings had already mapped most of the world’s continents. 5

In more recent history, white men appearing in South America were perceived as gods. Could not a people existing in the far more distant past have reached a similar conclusion about a strange race coming from beyond the distant horizon? We know from Sumerian records that this race of gods taught them about astronomy, which is fundamental to navigating the sea. And if this race first appeared following a great deluge, would it not make sense that they would appear on ships - ships in which they themselves escaped the very same massive flood? Is this, then, the truth that lies behind the biblical fable of Noah’s Ark? The first man in the biblical narrative, Adam, is based, according to L.A. Waddell and other scholars, upon the god-king Ia. As we will explore in much greater detail later on, there is an apocryphal Jewish legend stating that Adam’s body was carried on board Noah’s Ark, and re-entombed after the Ark’s landing. This tale, which could be based on a real historical incident, seems to have a certain amount of symbolic purport as well. This brings us back to the drawing of Ia in which he holds aloft a vase with a fleur-de-lys rising from the flowing water. If the fleur-de-lys is indeed emblematic of a royal bloodline, could not this depiction be a symbolic representation of the survival of that bloodline, rising

from out of the flood waters? Could this image be analogous to that of the Ark, containing the body of Adam, and the fruits of his loins, riding the flood waters to the Mount of Refuge? One of the central images on the altar of the church at Rennes-le-Chateau is a very idiosyncratic depiction of the Grail cup. At first glance it appears straightforward enough, and yet it is highly unorthodox, because it shows the Grail chalice being born aloft on what appear to be the waters of the Flood. That the Grail cup is shown floating on water would be unusual in itself. But it is not merely floating calmly on still waters: the waters depicted are decidedly turbulent. Perhaps, in the Flood, we have found an important clue that will place the whole mystery of the Grail in a far broader context than the mere story of Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalen. Christ and Magdalen are, after all, only bit players in what is plainly a far greater drama. And although they may be the best remembered players, those who came before them and after them may have far greater things to tell us. Writers examining the lives of Christ and Mary Magdalen in search of clues to the Grail mystery have been left with more questions than answers. And those going over the Bible with a fine-toothed comb have come up equally emptyhanded. Undoubtedly the reason for this is due to the fact that the Holy Grail has virtually nothing to do with Christianity per se. Christ may have been a key figure in a long line of servants of the Grail, but its legacy is not to be found within the context of the religion founded in his name. Not a single one of the crucial clues relating to the Grail mystery can be satisfactorily explained in terms of orthodox Christianity. Indeed, it would appear that the Grail story was Christianized precisely to conceal a legacy that was wholly unchristian. It is a legacy that goes back to Ia, and the mysterious race of which he was a descendant.

The Shepherd Kings

If the traditional Grail romances had little to do with the Christian tradition, the mysteries of the Priory of Sion and Rennes-le-Chateau would seem to be even more distant still from it, and much less understandable. What are we to make of Poussin’s mysterious painting, The Shepherds of Arcadia? And why this painting figure as such a pivotal clue? What of the bizarre secret society, the Priory of Sion? Though many dismiss it as a hoax, is it not perhaps too elaborate to be a mere hoax? Any hoax perpetrated to serve some functional end would hardly encompass such a vast variety of incomprehensible information and symbols. If, as some suggest, Pierre Plantard created the Priory out of whole cloth as an enticing little puzzle to serve his own political aspirations, he certainly failed miserably. Because if the Priory was nothing more than a clever cryptogram of his own devising, we can only say that he seems to have been far too clever for his own good. Mr. Plantard has now been dead for several years, and the puzzle that is the Priory of Sion persists in

perplexing virtually all those who have attempted to unlock its mysteries. Academics, historians and occultists alike have all run into a brick wall in their efforts to unravel the enigma of the Priory of Sion. Having done so, many appraised the Priory a hoax. Consequently, that avenue of inquiry was dispensed with by these people before even the most basic questions about it were answered satisfactorily. Questions such as: why are the Grand Masters called “Navigators”, and why do they adopt the name “John” as their title? Although looking for answers to such questions within the Judeo-Christian tradition is fruitless, the tradition from which Judaism, Christianity, and so many other creeds prior to them emerged seems to contain quite a number of intriguing correspondences. The “Navigator” title held by Priory of Sion’s Grand Masters is an allusion to Sumeria’s sea kings, who were legendary as navigators. Of these, the most known were the Akkadians. And Akkadians were obviously being referred to in Poussin’s The Shepherds of Arcadia. Sumeria’s sea kings were also known as “shepherds”, a term that meant “protector.” Remember, their first king was said to have come from “the heavens” to serve as “shepherd of mankind.” And the Sumerian god-king identified with Dagon was, in some records, referred to simply as “the Shepherd.” The Shepherds of Arcadia, then, can be seen as representing the god-kings of Akkadia; a royal dynasty of ancient Sumeria. But this is just one level of meaning, and as with so many things central to this mystery, Poussin’s painting contains multiple layers of meaning. Author Henry Lincoln has conclusively proven that The Shepherds of Arcadia contains a hidden pentagram, the center point of which falls exactly on the forehead of the shepherdess. The pentagram has a dual meaning for occultists, representing simultaneously both the forgotten race from which the Grail bloodline descended, and that race’s secret doctrine. One meaning is to be found in the Akkadia of ancient Sumeria, another in the Arcadia of ancient Greece. In Sumeria, were the pentagram originated, one of the concepts it symbolized was that of the “Shining Ones” or “Lofty Ones”, terms used in reference to the deified kings. In Arcadia, the pentagram was synonymous with the secret gnosis that Hermes was said to have preserved from a race of antediluvian gods. Hermes was said to have been born in the mountains of Arcadia. Poussin’s painting purports to depict Arcadia. Hermes was the patron deity of graves and of shepherds. So we have a painting depicting Arcadia, a tomb, and a group of shepherds. Clearly the secret doctrine being alluded to is the royal art known as Hermeticism. And in fact, the connection between Hermeticism and the fallen angels seems to constitute a long-standing tradition. Julius Evola tells us: 6

“Tertullian

says that the ... works of nature, the secrets of metals, the virtues of plants, the forces of magical conjurations, and ‘all those alien teachings that make up the science of the stars’ - that is to say, the whole corpus of the ancient magico-hermetic sciences was revealed to men by the fallen angels.”

Tertullian’s assertion is confirmed elsewhere in a statement attributed to Hermes himself:

“The

ancient and sacred books teach that certain angels burned with desire for women. They descended to earth and taught all the works of nature. They were the ones who created the Hermetic works, and from them proceeds the primordial tradition of this art.”

Though some disagree, Akkadia seems to be synonymous with Agade, the Sumerian capital associated with the empire's most well-known leader, Sargon the Great. Sargon was so powerful a ruler that he was known as “the King of the World.” One indication that Agade and Akkadia may be one and the same is that the sea-faring men of ancient Phoenicia were referred to alternately as “Gads”, or “Kads.” The Sumerians and Phoenicians of old never referred to themselves as Sumerians or Phoenicians, but took their names from the citystates in which they lived. According to the Sumeriologist L.A. Waddell, the term “Gad” mutated and was preserved in the name of the Goths. The term “Kad” mutated to “Catti”, which was the title given to royalty in ancient Britain. Also, the word “Catti” was the source for many place names in Europe that date back to the time at which the Phoenicians had extensive trade routes, and contain the word “cat” or “cad.” There are literally so many such names that to list them all would require half a page. They are to be found from the mid-east to Spain, and from North Africa to Scotland. Of interest in regard to this word “cat” or “catti” is that we had heard of it before, from a very strange figure who was staying at the same hotel as us in Rennes-le-Chateau. The man was in the process of translating what he claimed was the oldest book in the world, a history of Atlantis. He was a linguist who claimed to have discovered the primordial language of mankind, and told us that by learning a series of fundamental linguistic principles, anyone could be taught to read and understand forty different languages instantly (and with no memorization). We quizzed him at length about the roots of words central to our research. When we asked him where the word “Cathar” came from, he explained that it referred to a people descended from “the Cats” and “the Ari”, or “Aryans.” He was vague as to who exactly “the Cats” were, but said that their name figured in the placenames of countless cities and regions, such as Catalonia, Cadiz, and Caithness. They were sea-going people who had settlements throughout the known world. In light of our subsequent research, it seems likely that these “Cats” were “Kads”, or ancient Akkadians. The word “Kad” in fact shows up repeatedly in ancient place-names. Along the Phoenician coast at the time of the kingdoms of David and Solomon, there were no less than three cities all named “Kadesh.” The term “Gad” shows up repeatedly as well. On either side of the Straights of Gibraltar, there were once two cities both named “Agadir”, the most famous of which is sometimes referred to as “Gades.” At the time, remember, those Straights were known as the “Firth of the Gads.” So our research would seem to confirm what we were told by the mysterious stranger at Rennes-le-Chateau. We wished we could have learned more from him about

this people he called “the Cats”, but unfortunately our mutual language barrier prevented it. For a man who can read and understand some forty languages, his grasp of English was spotty at best (albeit far more expert than our limited grasp of French). Conflicting chroniclers list both “Agade” and “Akkad” as being the capitol of Sargon the Great’s empire. Further evidence that the two were probably one and the same is that the ancient maps place both in essentially the same geographic location, not far from Babylon. Also, maps that depict “Agade” do not show “Akkad”, and vice versa. Given the importance of Agade in the ancient world, we hypothesized that it could well have given rise to the notion of the mythical kingdoms of Asgarde and Agartha. Our guesswork has since seemingly been borne out, as we have found additional texts relating Arcadia, Akkadia, and Agartha. If Agartha is synonymous with Arcadia (and both are related to Akkadia), this could bring a whole new meaning to The Shepherds of Arcadia. The Agarthan underworld connotation could explain why the Sumerian deified kings were also known as “Lords of the Abyss.”

Cain Reconsidered

At about the same time that the subject of Sumer began to assume an increasingly central role in our inquiries, so too did a single figure: the second Sumerian king, Qin. He was remembered as the first great builder of cities, having created Erech, Lagash, Ur, Agade and Babylon. He was also credited with teaching his people to grow and harvest grain, and to brew alcoholic beverages. In short, he is a figure who seems to have a lot in common with Dagon, Oannes, and the Watchers. He too was remembered as a primordial bringer of wisdom. L.A. Waddell even goes so far as to draw a definitive connection between Qin and the Watchers. According to Waddell, the leader of the fallen angels, Azazel, can be shown to be based on an alternate title of Qin (or sometimes, “Kan”). Waddell asserts that “Azazel” is a conjunction of the Sumerian title “Azaz” (“Son of God”) and the Hebrew title “El” (“Lord”). Many Sumerian records list Qin’s title as “Azaz” or “Azag.” But Qin, like most deified kings, had numerous titles. He was also known as “the Lord of the Tree of Life”, and was referred to in this regard as “Maru”, “Marud”, or “Nimarud.” In the latter title we can clearly see a connection to the biblical King Nimrod. Both Nimrod and Qin were credited with the construction of Agade, Lagash, Babylon, and so forth. Both had sons named “Enoch”, and both erected cities in his name. Clearly, Qin and Nimrod are but two different designations for the same historical personage. 7

What is more, Qin also served as a prototype for another biblical figure: Cain. Both Qin and Cain were associated with agriculture, both were said to have invented the plow, and both, once again, had sons named “Enoch.” And of course the names “Qin” and “Cain” are so nearly identical that this conclusion

seems inescapable. All of which leads one to wonder why a king considered one of the ancient world’s the most illustrious leaders would have served as the prototype of the Old Testament’s primordial rebel, or why his story was preserved in the villainous biblical figure of Nimrod. And what exactly was the rationale for morphing him into the leader of the Watchers, Azazel? We will explore these questions in due course, as we study the myths and legends of Cain and his descendants. And while this bloodline, is given scant mention in the Old Testament, leaving the impression that it eventually died out, records found elsewhere indicate that nothing could be further from the truth. It is the descendants of Cain who are the Watchers, and it is the descendants of Cain who, as we discovered, ultimately constitute the “Grail blood” alluded to so frequently in Grail legend and literature. It is a heritage forgotten by all but a few, but preserved by the mystery cults who have through the years secretly guided man’s civilization – just as Cain and the Watchers did so long ago. By studying the legends of the descendants of Cain, one discovers the subterranean secrets which make of the hidden history of mankind, and the gods that once ruled over him. These gods were associated not only with the sea, but with that other great Abyss: the infernal regions down below.

Another quote from The Book of Enoch demonstrates this amply. Referring to the iniquity and rebellion that caused God to bring about the Flood, Enoch tells Noah:

1

“They

have discovered secrets, and they are those that have been judged; but not thou, my son. The Lord of Spirits knows that thou are pure and good, free from the reproach of discovering secrets.” One cannot help but notice the implied connection between “Leviathan” and Eliphas Levi’s last name. This name, “Levi”, also applies to the priestly tribe of the Israelites, from which Christ was partially descended. 2

Ouranos may be connected to the idea of the “Ouroburos”, the “dragon of the deep” which represented, to the ancients, the “celestial sea” of the night’s sky, and was depicted as a serpent biting its own tail.

3

4

There is probably a connection here to the name of Greek god “Dionysus.”

5 We will soon explore other explanations as well for why this conclusion may have been reached.

It has been suggested that the word “Sumer” is the root word for the Hebrew word “shumer”, which means “guardian” or “protector.” It also carries the meaning of both “shepherd” and “watcher”, and may be connected to the English words “shimmer” and “shine.” This is appropriate, since the Sumerian god-kings were known as “the Shining Ones”, and the Watchers of The Book of Enoch were likewise said to shine.

6

This root word “Az” may link Cain with the demon Asmodeus. We will discuss further links between later on in this book.

7

The Secret Doctrine

Perhaps the strangest aspect of this mystery surrounding the Grail, and the various secret societies dedicated to its service, is the vast abundance of so much symbolism which seems to have no apparent connection to Christianity whatsoever. This has lead to speculation that the Grail tradition might have something to do with a secret teaching of Christ, or perhaps constitutes and even more ancient hidden gnosis. Such supposition seems highly probable, given the fact that Christ was a descendant of King Solomon, considered by occultists to be one of the greatest sorcerers of all time. Furthermore, it is indeed true that much of Judaic and Christian doctrine has roots in what can only be called occult theology. To examine this notion fully, we must look into the earliest traditions from which both Judaism and Christianity emerged. And of the two, it is perhaps Christianity whose historical roots are most at odds with the prevailing theological orthodoxy of modern Judeo-Christian dogma. In fact, the things that Christians once believed would today be considered nothing short of heretical, and the things that Christians now believe still seem, when closely examined, to be bordering on the pagan. If the majority of practicing Christians new more about their religion and its history, the church theologians would find themselves in a difficult catch twenty-two: How can they say that Christianity is against paganism and occultism when Christianity itself is derived from them?

The Cult of Christ

If you were to tell a stranger that you belong to a religious movement whose adherents believed in demons, the raising of the dead, or the invoking of entities to alter worldly events in accordance with one’s own will, they might logically suspect that you were a member of a Satanic cult. And if you further told that person that your faith practiced rituals patterned on the idea of drinking blood and consuming human flesh, they’d no doubt feel certain that such was the case. Yet all of the ideas just mentioned are precepts fundamental to orthodox Christianity. Beliefs that would seem utterly bizarre or inherently occult in any other context are, for mainstream Christianity, simple articles of faith. Even so simple an act as prayer has roots in ancient occult practice and belief. There was a time in which it was thought that there were hierarchies of angels and demons whose aid and assistance could be enlisted by mortal men. Each particular angel or demon was seen to govern some specific aspect of human existence, and by making entreaties to the correct entity, man could achieve his

desires. To invoke a demon, one had only to speak his name aloud, say the right words, and command him to do one’s bidding. In the Catholic church, the legions of angels and devils have been replaced by saints, but the process involved is essentially identical. Each saint is said to hold dominion over some aspect of daily life, and by offering prayers to them one can receive blessings covering everything from safe travel to baking bread. While asking for blessings obviously seems far more benign than the act of invoking a demon, both practices are rooted in the magical thinking of the fardistant past, and represent different aspects of the same fundamental worldview. In passing, it’s worth noting that the Catholic church is the last Christian institution which still embraces the concept of the malediction, or in common parlance, the curse. While it is well-known that the early church consciously coopted certain aspects of paganism (including pre-Christian holy days), Christianity is so rife with occult concepts that it is difficult not to imagine them as vestiges of ideas that must have been central to the creed from the very start. After all, some of the most illustrious biblical patriarchs, such as Abraham, Solomon, and Moses, were men said to traffic in the black arts. In the time of Christ it was widely believed by both his enemies and his supporters that he too was a sorcerer. Though the foregoing statement will undoubtedly seem blasphemous to true believers, there is ample evidence in historical sources which indicates that this perception of Christ was not an uncommon one in his own day. Such evidence is explored in-depth in Morton Smith’s landmark book Jesus the Magician. In this book, Smith documents how popular opinion at the time posited that Christ’s miraculous powers were the result of the fact that he “had a demon.” This could mean either that he was possessed by a demon, or exercised control over one. Many believed that John the Baptist had a demon too, and that at the time of his beheading, control of the demon passed from John to Christ. Strangely, for many at the time, the notion that Christ was possessed by a demon didn’t seem at all inconsistent with their perception of him as “divinely inspired.” It is said that many faithful Jews at the time even included the names of demons alongside those of biblical patriarchs when saying their prayers. Examples of this can also be found in some ancient magical incantations, such as this quote from the Papyri Graecae Magicae:

“...Lord of life, King of the heavens and the earth, and all those that dwell therein, whose righteousness has not been turned aside... who has irrefutable truth, whose name and spirit [rest] upon good men, come unto my mind and my vitals for all the time of my life and accomplish for me all the desires of my soul. For you are I and I am you. Whatever I say must happen... for I have taken to myself the power of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and of the great god-demon Iao Ablanathanalba.”

While most of Christ’s early followers didn’t seem to view his status as a magician as any sort of stumbling-block, his opponents used it to discredit him, saying he was a charlatan, a mere sorcerer. After all, the Holy Land of that day had no shortage of would-be messiahs, false prophets and sorcerers. Many of these people were probably charlatans, but by and large the designation of “magician” was by no means synonymous with charlatanism. In fact, according to Morton Smith:

“In Jewish priestly circles of the first century like those of Josephus, to be thought a magician was not necessarily discreditable, and in other Jewish circles it might be taken as a messianic trait.”

Evidently, in Christ’s own lifetime (and the years immediately following), his status as a magician was seen as a messianic trait. As the centuries passed, his powers came to be seen as divinely ordained rather than demonic, and by the fourth century his transition from magician to messiah was complete. In the intervening years however, there was a strange interim period in which the occult tradition of Christ became indistinguishably blurred into what would eventually emerge as Orthodox Christianity. In some cases the occult aspects were subtly present, in others widely overt. In the most pronounced cases, Jesus himself was invoked as a demon, or alternately, as a king of demons, whose blessing would confer power over other demons. In a lead curse tablet from first or second century Greece, the goddesses Persephone, Hecate, and Selene are conjured in the name of Jesus to curse an enemy’s “body, spirit, soul, mind, thought, sensation, life, heart.” Another such tablet, from Carthage, reads:

“I conjure you, whoever you are, daemon of the dead, by the god who created the earth and heaven... I conjure you by the god who has authority over the subterranean regions, Neicharoplex... by ... holy Hermes ... Iao .... Sabaoth ... the god of Solomon, Souarmimooth ... the god having authority over this hour in which I conjure you, Jesus.”

Interestingly, the gods mentioned herein seem to be viewed as co-equal, with the ruler of the underworld being called upon in the same breath as he who created the Earth and heavens. In this context, Jesus (the “demon of the dead”), although being conjured, seems to be an intermediary between man and the gods. The fact that there is a plurality of gods whose power is being invoked here is significant, insofar as it demonstrates that the figure of Christ was indeed viewed at one point as the new evangel of a far more ancient tradition. For some he was an prophet who, in the manner of earlier deified kings, joined the ranks of the gods upon passing from His earthly life. For others, he was a conjurer of demons who became a demon. Though he would

ultimately be viewed as the son of the one true God, author Morton Smith asserts that in the centuries leading up to that time, “there is no question that Jesus’ name continued to be used in magic as that of a supernatural power by whose authority demons might be conjured.” There is ample evidence in the Old Testament, alternative traditions and Rabbinic lore that the notion of Christ as a magician or conjurer of demons is no mere misconception or misinterpretation. In fact, it seems to constitute a family heritage of sorts. The patriarch Abraham was said to be well-versed in “the black arts”, and traveled extensively, sharing his knowledge with priests and kings of other lands. In Rabbinic lore it was recorded that Solomon conjured the demon Asmodeus to build his mighty temple. And Solomon was also said to have been the author of an influential grimoire, The Key of Solomon, which was revered by occultists as a text of monumental importance for many centuries. Clearly, there are firmly-established traditions in which these patriarchs are remembered as occultists and magicians. Though to modern sensibilities, much of this seems utterly incomprehensible, these ideas may have originally been viewed in an altogether different light than they are today. For instance, it is widely thought that the word “demon” merely meant “spirit”, and was initially devoid of any connotation denoting evil entities. The Socratic use of the term “daemonic” simply referred to a power beyond that of humans. Much of early religion was based upon a form of ancestor worship. Many ancient kings both worshipped their deified forebears, and presented themselves as being their living embodiments - possessed by their very spirit. Invoking the names of demons/spirits may have merely been a form of such ancestor worship. A good many demonic names, when translated according to predominant ancient tongues, bear a remarkable resemblance to many titles used for kings in the ancient world. For instance, Asmodeus can be translated as “the Lord God”, and Azazel can be translated as “Lord, son of God.” If the invocation of so-called demonic names was an esoteric tradition, known and understood by only a small number of initiates, it’s plain to see how it could easily have been misunderstood or misinterpreted by outsiders. We have already described the use of the names of biblical patriarchs in demonic conjuration, which may be another indication that ancestor worship played a part in the process. But that is just speculation. When all is said and done, the most we can definitively say is that these people believed there were forces exterior to man which could be entreated to conform to his will. As previously mentioned, this view differs little from that of any man who lights a candle and utters a prayer, or invokes the name of a saint in hopes of securing blessings. Those with an anti-Christian bias point to the fact that there were upwards of a dozen crucified messiahs in world mythology whose stories closely resembled that of Christ, claiming this constitutes “proof” that Jesus never existed. After all, they argue, mythology is full of dying and resurrected gods such as Tammuz, Dumuzi, and others. The fact that Christ’s story shares similar elements must mean that it too is merely another myth. Of course, such an argument doesn’t prove anything of the sort. What it does tend to indicate, it seems, is that Christ was part of a long-standing tradition - a tradition whose tenets are often preserved in myth and symbol.

The traditions from which Christianity is derived date back to a time when the symbolism of religious iconography was widely recognized and understood. Although much of this same iconography later played a central role in Christianity, the original meanings have long since been forgotten. Take, for example, the cross, the foremost symbol of Christianity. Ask most Christians its meaning, and they are likely to tell you that it is an emblem of their faith because Christ died on the cross. Such an idea seems fairly straightforward, since as often as not, when one sees a cross, it is in the form of a crucifix, bearing the image of a crucified Christ. Thus, the conception of the cross as being synonymous with the death of Christ has come to be firmly established in the popular consciousness. In fact, however, the cross was one of the primary religious symbols in many ancient cultures for millennia before the advent of Christ. In both the East and the West, the cross can be traced to the remotest antiquity. Some claim that the origin of the cross lies in the earliest practice of solar religion. At dawn, salutations were given to the Sun as God the Father reborn. People would face the Sun as it rose on the eastern horizon, embracing it ritualistically by extending their arms straight out at their sides. They would then turn away from the Sun and, maintaining the same posture, gaze toward that point on the western horizon where the dying Sun would “sink into the Abyss” later that evening. While looking westward in this manner, the rising Sun cast a long shadow of their body that gave a cross-like appearance. So it was that the cross became a symbol of the Sun as a dying and resurrected god. The later meanings attributed to the cross by orthodox Christianity are but a continuation of the theme of death and resurrection - a theme whose roots go back to the dawn of recorded history. The single institution in which the overlap of Christian and pre-Christian ideas can be seen most explicitly is without a doubt Roman Catholicism. The emerging Church of Rome absorbed a great many of the rites and ideas that had dominated Roman religion and politics in the centuries prior to the birth of Christ. Much of this had come to Rome by way of Babylon, Sumer and Persia. The idea that the emperor was a living incarnation of god was rooted in the most ancient examples of religion in Sumer and Egypt. During the period in which the caesars were looked upon as gods, the role of emperor was also to serve as high priest in the Mithraic mysteries, which were then the state religion. His title in this capacity was Pontifex Maximus. Later, as papal authority accrued, the Church of Rome would lay claim to the title Pontifex Maximus as a designation for the Pope. In time Catholicism elaborated a policy which presented the Pope as having a role analogous to that of Christ, representing “the voice of God on Earth.” Such a notion is more in keeping with the ideas that defined pagan Rome than with anything to be found in the Bible. Non-Catholic Christians deemed the idea blasphemous, and harsher critics went so far as to label the Pope an agent of the Devil. The emblem of papal authority, a logo comprised of two crossed keys surmounted by a crown, also has its roots in pre-Christian religion. The gods and goddesses associated with the mysteries (such as Janus and Diana) were often depicted holding keys. It is altogether probable that early non-Christians who saw this iconography in the context of the new religion may have drawn the conclusion that the Pope was an initiate of the mystery schools, or that he was

a living inheritor of the knowledge of the gods. Later, as the intrinsically pagan symbolism of the keys faded from public memory, the Church began to assert that the keys represented the “keys to Heaven” given to the apostle Peter by Christ. Peter, they said, traveled to Rome and became the first Pope. Subsequently, the metaphorical keys have been passed down to each successive Pope. This is the version of things that has been accepted as official Catholic doctrine, although prior to the first half of the fifth century there had been no mention of St. Peter as the first Pope, or of the keys to Heaven. The distinctive clothing of the Catholic priesthood for many centuries involved the wearing of a garment that looked rather like a dress. The adoption of this style of clothing may have its genesis in the cult of Attis and Cybele, which originated in Greece in 500 BC, and remained a strong presence in Rome until around 400 A.D. The central myth of the sect stated that Attis had stood beneath a sacred pine tree and castrated himself as an offering to Cybele. This legend served as the basis of yearly rites held in Spring, in which “priests wearing effeminate costumes” would castrate themselves, burying the knives and severed members in the earth as a “blood sacrifice to the goddess.” Such rites may have been the source of the practice of celibacy in the Catholic priesthood. Most religions have no policy demanding celibacy from their priests, and there seems to be no basis in any Christian literature for the adoption of such a practice. Although there is nothing to indicate that Catholics have participated in ritual castration akin to the goddess cult, there is however a curious quote from The Book of Matthew in which the author refers to priests as “eunuchs of the Kingdom of Heaven.” The black color of Catholic priestly garb can be traced to Babylon, where the priesthood of Baal were famous for having dressed in black. Babylon exerted a powerful influence on the religious thought of Rome, and another rite central to Roman Catholicism may also have its roots in the priests of Baal. Undoubtedly the most bizarre ritual of the Roman Church is that of Communion - the symbolic consumption of the flesh and blood of Christ. Even as a purely symbolic act, the ceremony’s connotations are barbaric, and seem to have more in common with occultism than Christian doctrine. It is said by some that in certain Babylonian rites, a human sacrifice was required, and that the victim’s flesh and blood was then consumed by participants in the ritual. If such accounts can be taken seriously, this might have served as the basis of the later (purely symbolic) practice of Communion. Though some scholars dismiss the claims of Babylonian sacrifice, it is interesting to note that our modern word for consuming human flesh, “cannibalism”, is rooted in the Babylonian words “kahane baal” (“priest of Baal”). In a number of ancient cultures, it is said that each year a young man was chosen to act as a living incarnation of one of their gods. He would reside in the temple dedicated to that god, and lead a kingly existence, with no luxury denied him. At the end of a year’s time, however, he would be offered as a sacrifice. Being selected for this role was evidently the highest possible honor, both for the sacrificial victim and his family. When the sacrifice was completed, the man’s flesh would be eaten, evidently as a means of achieving communion with the deity he symbolized. Assuming that this rite may have been associated with

the purported human sacrifice and cannibalism said to have been practiced in Babylon, the additional symbolic content of consuming the dead god’s flesh would complete the similarity between the ritual practiced by the Babylonians and the Communion of Catholicism. Though such ideas are not at all in keeping with what we imagine we know about early Christianity, there is perhaps much that we don’t know about it. The emergence of Christianity in pagan Rome was a phenomenon viewed with suspicion and fear. Christians were seen as a dangerous, subversive foreign sect. Their doctrine was seen as seditious, because it denied the emperor’s divinity, and recognized his authority as being second to that of Christ. Chroniclers writing at the time tell us that the Christians were an ungodly sect who held bizarre rituals beneath a full moon. The rituals were said to have climaxed in an orgiastic frenzy which sometimes involved human sacrifice. Ironically, the very charges leveled against the early Christians by pagan Rome are nearly identical to those later leveled against heretics by papal Rome. And very similar charges were later made against the Jews in medieval Europe. Most serious students of history dismiss all such charges as fabrications - libelous falsehoods intended to demonize any group who fails to conform to the prevailing orthodoxy. Although such an explanation seems immanently rational, and in keeping with human nature, it is hard to deny that much of early religion involved practices that would today be deemed savage: intoxicated frenzy, orgiastic excess, and sacrifice (both animal and human). Though the early Christians may be entirely innocent of the charges made against them, it is not inconceivable that such practices may have been indulged in by organized groups keeping alive strange traditions from antiquity. Much of the symbolism of the Church of Rome is derived from the old solar religions, coming by way of Egypt, Sumer, and (yet again) Babylon. It is a popular misconception that solar religion equates with mere “sun worship”, and is the most primitive of superstitions. In fact, the earliest forms of solar religion evince a high level of symbolic purity and sophistication, which seems to have steadily decreased with the rise of polytheism. At any rate, imagery related to the Sun can be found abundantly in Catholicism. It is perhaps most evident in the many depictions of saints. The so-called “haloes” surrounding the heads of saints are identical to the solar discs pictured around the heads of earlier gods and goddesses associated with the Sun. In some cases the solar connotation of these haloes is made even more explicit by the inclusion of a red equilateral cross within them - a sun cross. This image of a solar disc enclosing an equilateral cross is a very ancient sun symbol, and can be seen on the king seals of many Sumerian rulers. These deified kings were seen as being suns of God, and some bore the title “Son of the Sun.” Consequently, they are often pictured in close proximity to this solar icon, as a sign of their divine authority. Therefore the single idea most central to Christianity, that of a man being the son of God, had its origin in the ancient royal concept of the Sun as the father of kings. For a great many years, Roman priests sported a distinctive hairstyle known as the Roman tonsure. It was defined by a round circle shaved atop the priest’s head toward the back, with a fringe of hair cut to a uniform length surrounding it. The style would eventually be adopted by other religious orders, but its association with Catholicism is the reason it remains known as the “Roman”

tonsure. It was a style, however, that was worn for centuries prior to the formation of the Catholic church by priests of the solar religion. The symbolism of the hairstyle was intended to denote the priest as a servant of the sun god. The shaved circle is said to represent the solar disc, and the fringe of hair around it was meant to mimic the Sun’s aureole. Though this tonsure may have been worn by priests of numerous solar sects, it would have been best known to Romans as the style associated with the priesthood of Mithra. At some point the Roman tonsure was evidently phased out. However, high-ranking members of the Roman church often still wear small yarmulke-like hats which occupy the same spot on their heads as once did the circle of shaved hair. One of the most long-standing tenets of Judeo-Christianity is its taboo against the use of graven images. This dates back to an age in which other religions made statues of their gods, and many people worshipping such idols perceived them to be actual incarnations of the gods they were meant to represent. It is said that the father of Abraham made his livelihood creating likenesses of the gods of other cultures, such as Baal, Dagon, Astarte, and so on. One day Abraham took one of these idols and smashed it, then stated that it could not possibly be a god, or it could not have been so easily destroyed. This single event seems to have signaled the beginning of the prohibition against idolatry and the graven image. The most extreme example of this prohibition can be seen in the iconoclasts of Constantinople. The original meaning of “iconoclast” is “destroyer of images”, and this fanatical sect took holy writ very literally. They insisted that no statue, painting or depiction of any sort should be allowed to exist portraying divinities, patriarchs, saints, the Madonna, etc., on the grounds that they constituted forbidden graven images. Consequently, churches were sacked, statues demolished, and paintings burned. The great churches of Constantinople must have looked very boring as a result. In contrast, the Church of Rome seems to have embraced the pre-Christian fondness for statues. Cathedrals in the eternal city abound with statues, paintings, and holy relics, all of which have become the object of veneration over the centuries. In St. Peter’s Basilica, visitors actually kneel before the statues of saints, often kissing their feet or hands. Quite often early Catholic churches were established in buildings which had long been pagan temples, and the same statues of gods worshipped in pagan times were simply repainted and re-christened as Catholic saints. As often as not, the saint names given to the statues were nearly identical to those of the previous gods. This is commented on in Babylon Mystery Religion by Ralph Woodrow, where he states:

“The goddess Victoria of the Basse-Alpes was renamed as St. Victoire, Cheron as St. Ceranos, Artemis as St. Artemedos, Dionysos as St. Dionysis, etc. The goddess Brighit (regarded as the daughter of the sun-god and represented with a child in her arms) was smoothly renamed as St. Bridget. In pagan days her chief temple at Kildare was served by vestal virgins who tended the sacred fires. Later her temple became a convent and her vestals, nuns. They continued to tend the ritual fire, only now it was called ‘St. Bridget’s fire.’”

The practice of using pre-existing pagan idols as Catholic icons was so widespread, it is virtually impossible to ascertain how many of these early statues date back to the pre-Christian era. It is particularly difficult in regards to one of the most well-known of Catholic icons: that of the Madonna and child. This image, depicting the goddess holding the Holy Child, was central to preChristian religion for millennia prior to Christianity. In Egypt, the mother and child were Isis and Horus; in Babylon, Semiramis and Tammuz. India and China likewise had their equivalents. This image of the sacred mother and her divine child goes back to an age in which worship of the “Divine couple” was still the order of the day. The king and queen were worshipped as earthly incarnations of the father god and mother goddess, while their son, the future king, was seen as having been born of the company of Heaven. Although the details differ significantly, this is precisely Christ’s implied legacy, that of a king, and of a son of God – or, moreover, a son of the Divine couple, if the “Holy Spirit” portion of the Catholic Trinity is to be thought of as female.

The Primordial Duad

This notion of the divine couple is one of the most ancient concepts in religion. In Sumeria, it appears as part of perhaps the earliest notion of Trinity. God the Father was symbolized as the Sun, his consort was symbolized alternately as either the Moon or the Earth, and the king was viewed as their offspring: the Son of the Sun; a living representative (or emanation) of God on Earth. A similar idea can be seen in Egypt, where the Pharaoh was viewed as a living incarnation of Horus, son of the divine couple Isis and Osiris. The Pharaoh was seen both as a god, and as a mediator between the earthly and the divine. It was said that when he died, he ascended to the heavens and became Osiris (essentially returning to the source with whom he had always been synonymous in the minds of the Egyptians.) In many traditions the gods and goddesses who comprise the divine couple are not seen as being separate or distinct entities, but rather as differing aspects of one another, or even emanations of one another. In this we see traces of an even more ancient tradition: God as the primordial androgyne. Such a notion has been part of many theologies, although the idea has largely been forgotten or (perhaps) ignored. Traces of it can even be found in Judeo-Christianity. For instance, we are told that the name of Jehovah is comprised of Hebrew characters representing the four elements: air, fire, earth, and water. But read slightly differently, the same characters spell “He She.” And the word Elohim, usually translated as “gods”, or “the angels”, is actually a composite of “Eloh”, the feminine plural of “god”, and “Im”, the masculine plural of “god.” Even straightforwardly Christian sources concede that this is no doubt indicative of the belief, anciently held, that God was primordially possessed of both sexes. This idea has been central to certain occult traditions, and experienced a kind of revival in the 19th century, influencing the Hermetic Brotherhood of Luxor and

the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. It developed into the doctrine that the entirety of creation flows from the differentiation of the unmanifested divine into male and female. To those who followed this doctrine, the reunification of the divine duad represented the means of achieving union with God. In ancient cultures, the sundered aspects of this duad were seen symbolically as being the heavens and the Earth; the heavens representing God the Father, and Earth representing the Earth Mother. Together the two embodied the most fundamental notion of generative power. In Mesopotamia it was said that there was a time at which the heavens and the Earth were one. This primordial oneness, called Anki, gave birth to a son: Enlil. This son proceeded to cleave the heavens and the Earth apart, creating two separate entities from a primeval whole. “An” departed to rule from the heavens. “Ki” descended to earth to rule with her son Enlil. Thus we have the birth of the divine couple, in an early creation myth that chronicles the original state of union from which the two emerged. In a related story, the god Marduk is said to have created the heavens and the Earth by killing Tiamat, the goddess representing the primeval waters. He cut her corpse in half, and one part became the heavens, the other the Earth. Her eyes became the Tigris and Euphrates rivers that bordered Babylon. Though the story dates from a later period than the Anki tale, and the symbolism is less straightforward, it nonetheless demonstrates that even at this latter date, the idea that Heaven and Earth constituted a primordial unity was still in currency. And although many other creation myths involving a divine couple seem to hint at this, most are far less specific in their details. For instance, in Hindu mythology, Dyaus Pitar (God the Father) and Prthivi were the primordial couple who sired the Vedic pantheon of gods. They were said to have placed Heaven and Earth into “conjunction” with one another. If any original cleaving asunder took place, it seems to have eluded mention. In other myths involving the divine couple, their separation seems to be conveyed symbolically by the act of castration. The most well-known tale in this regard must certainly be that of Isis and Osiris. In this story, Osiris is cut into pieces by the dark Set, who scatters the pieces far and wide. Isis sets about finding the pieces to sew them back together again. She finds all but one: the penis. In some versions, the penis has been thrown into the Nile and eaten by fish. Undaunted, she fashions Osiris a penis from gold, attaches it, and instantly the god is resurrected. This tale is remarkable in that, unlike the early myths, it represents not the separation of the divine couple, but the notion of their reunification. The well-known obelisks of ancient Egypt are said alternately to represent the penis of Osiris, or the needle of Isis. Either interpretation carries essentially the same symbolic meaning. In sewing together the pieces of Osiris, Isis is making him whole once more. The penis she fashions represents the point of union between the divine couple, and thence comes its symbolic significance to the ancients. So the elements of the story, taken as a whole, can be seen as representing the power of the female element to restore the power of God by restoring the primal equilibrium of the divine couple, reestablishing the union of the two.

Other instances of divine castrations abound in the early creation myths, yet none manage to recapture the simple eloquence and symbolic purport of the tale of Isis and Osiris. But another example of castration dating from the Middle Ages is of particular interest to us insofar as it has become associated with the saga of the Holy Grail. I’m speaking, of course, about the story of Parcival and the Fisher King. The story, in a nutshell, is as follows. The Fisher King lies dying of a wound that never heals. Some versions of the Grail romance are vague as to the nature of the wound, but at least one is very specific indeed. In a bizarre accident, the king has lost his genitals. The sword he was wielding broke in two, slicing away his penis. It is said that the area between his legs is “as smooth as a woman.” The king can only be redeemed by the Grail, and so the knight Parcival embarks on a quest in search of it. But before Parcival can hope to win the Grail, he must procure a weapon to take along on his mystical journey. Taking the shattered pieces of the king’s sword, he melts them down, forges the weapon anew, and sets off on his quest. This is all very interesting. The sword in question is no ordinary one, but a weapon possessed of legendary powers. It is said that it ordains victory and absolute power - but only to those destined to wield it. To all others, it ordains ruin. The very fact that it shattered in the hands of the Fisher King seems to indicate that he wasn’t its rightful possessor. The wound of the Fisher King is also very telling. The loss of his manhood indicates that he existed in a decadent, emasculated state. This in and of itself certainly seems to constitute a “wound that never heals.” The symbolism attendant to the figure of Parcival is every bit as telling. To win the Grail he must first re-forge the mythic sword, and make it whole again. This weapon obviously represents some primordial archetypal power - one both creative and destructive. It’s breaking in two was the basis of tragedy and ruin; it’s reunification, the basis of attaining the Grail. With its shattering, the king was both emasculated and doomed. With its restoration, Parcival won his quest and married the bearer of the Grail. The symbolism inherent in this story could hardly be more straightforward. The missing penis, besides representing the obvious loss of manhood, is emblematic (as in the case of Osiris) of the cleaving apart of the two most basic forces, as signified by their two most primary manifestations: male and female. The king is useless without the ability to become conjoined to the queen and produce an heir to the throne. Another revealing aspect of the tale is that en route on his quest (and in order to attain it), Parcival must curse and reject God. He can only attain the Grail by becoming like unto God. This indicates that the very notion of God has become, for him (the truest of heroes), a hindrance that must be overcome before winning the Grail is possible. Is the figure of Parcival meant to be a Templar Knight? Is he a true servant of God, who, in the course of his service to the supreme deity, must reject organized religion? Perhaps. And what of the Fisher King? Does he represent the orthodoxy of the Church, an established authority, possessed of a throne

and attempting to wield a supreme power, but hopelessly incapable of doing so? Maybe. Parcival certainly seems to be everything the king is not. He is possessed of the capability of getting the Grail, marrying the Grail bearer, and not only wielding the legendary sword, but of forging it anew. All of this would seem to indicate that the mystery of the Grail encompasses far more than the mere object to which the name is attached. The very quest itself is a part of the process of redemption/transformation. And since the attainment of the Grail seems to be associated with marrying the bearer of the Grail, we posit that this symbolic union is more probably the goal of the Grail quest. The mere object is simply emblematic of it. In other words, the true significance of this tale lies in the coming together of the archetypal male and female in a reflection of the original sacred idea: the divine couple. This hypothesis seems to be borne out by the fact that when all of this is accomplished, the Fisher King’s “redemption” is that he dies, and Parcival succeeds him. Many of the elements central to the saga of the Grail bloodline could also be explained in terms of the divine couple and the principle they signified. For instance, the Knights Templar were intrinsically linked to Solomon’s Temple, with its cabalistic pillars of Jachin and Boaz. Occultists tell us that these pillars represented the dual qualities of mildness and severity. One of the pillars was gold, the other green. It seems likely that the royal colors of the Merovingians, gold and green, refer symbolically to the principle embodied by the pillars of Solomon’s Temple. Taking that notion to its logical conclusion, it would follow that the use of gold and green in both cases also signifies the divine couple. Gold, in the ancient world, was always used to symbolize the Sun: God the Father. And green would seem the logical color to symbolize the consort of God in her role as Earth Mother. The roles of god and goddess in ancient cultures seem to have been patterned after the classic parental model. God the Father was severe, distant, and aloof. His consort was far more approachable, and in many ways was seen as a mediator between God and Man. It is thought that except in rare or extreme cases, few people petitioned God directly in those times. Rather, they appealed to the female deity to intercede on their behalf, just as any child knows its mother will naturally be more sensitive to its desires, while the father has a tendency to be unyielding and authoritarian. It is speculated that this is the reason why relatively few statues remain depicting father gods, while statues of goddesses abound. Viewed in this context, one of the prime mysteries of the Grail legend seems more readily comprehensible: the phenomenon of the Black Madonnas. Statues of the Black Madonna appear in churches throughout France (particularly in the Languedoc), and have long been associated with Mary Magdalen. But the question that has always perplexed observers is: “What could these enigmatic figures possibly mean?” Heretofore, the answer to this question has been elusive. Most of the hypotheses offered have seemed to be either baseless speculation, wishful thinking, or a combination of the two. Some have pointed to the obvious similarities between the Black Madonnas and Kali, the Hindu goddess of destruction. However, the “obvious similarities” cited are perhaps the most superficial qualities they share: both are female and both are black. The characteristics that define the fundamental nature of each (one is a nurturing mother, the other a crazed destroyer bedecked in a garland of

severed heads) would seem to indicate that their respective dissimilarities far outweigh any shared attributes. Some authors have asserted that both Mary Magdalen and the Black Madonnas are “linked to pagan goddess worship.” This conclusion seems to possess even less inner logic than the Kali hypothesis, and fails to explain why the symbolism unique to the Black Madonna phenomenon could be seen to indicate such a notion. The most straightforward explanation for the symbolism of the color black is the most common meaning associated with it in the occult: matter. To the ancients matter was synonymous with the world, the flesh, and the Devil. Consequently, the figure of the Madonna (a mother) symbolized as matter , can easily be seen to equate with some of the most ancient notions previously discussed concerning the female aspect of the divine couple. At that point in history when Black Madonnas came into prominence, heresies were dealt with severely, and the idea that God had a consort would have been wildly heretical. Therefore, the Black Madonnas were a coded means of keeping alive one of the most primordial notions of deity, an ancient secret hidden in plain sight. Their outward form was, in all respects but one, deceptively orthodox-seeming. Their unusual coloring was just perplexing enough to confuse those who didn’t understand, while not being so odd as to generate too much suspicion. Yet the Black Madonnas have been a source of bafflement for centuries, misunderstood by the public, the clergy, and even most occultists. 1

In light of what we have just explained, the symbolism of the Black Madonnas seems not only unambiguous, but really quite obvious. Such symbolism is central to occult doctrine, and is even quite prominent in orthodox religion itself. The well-known depiction of the dove descending into the Grail chalice represents nothing less, and is an image that was of central importance to both the Catholic church, and to Aleister Crowley‘s Ordo Templi Orientis. The latter’s use of such straightforwardly Christian iconography no doubt perplexed many, and indeed this was perhaps the intent. But so as to convey the precise intent of utilizing this conventional image, Crowley placed it inside of an oval shape, the arc of which came to points at both the top and the bottom. Were one to follow the path of the arcs comprising each side of this shape, you would find that each formed a perfect circle, and that the shape employed by Crowley represented the point at which these circles overlapped. This is a well-known occult symbol, the “vesica picses”, and the circles are said to represent the corporeal world and the non-corporeal world, or spirit and matter. Therefore, the point at which the two intersect would be emblematic of precisely the same thing as the image placed within this geometric shape: the symbolic union of Heaven and Earth, spirit and matter, masculinity and femininity. We see the very same image of the overlapping circles on a sacred well in England, in a place called Glastonbury said to have been visited by Christ and Joseph of Arimathea. It is called Chalice Well, and it is covered by a large slab of stone decorated with metalwork forming the intersecting circles. Even Christian commentators assert that the circles signify the point of union between “the visible realm and the invisible realm.” Yet here an additional element has been added. The two circles are pierced by what has been said to be a “bleeding lance”, a symbol well-known from the Grail legends. Some

speculate that this lance, said to be symbolically linked with the Spear of Longinus that pierced the side of Christ, was perhaps emblematic of death and resurrection. Being the instrument of Christ’s destruction, it was therefore a key element of his resurrection. This may be at least partially true, yet seems unsatisfactory as a complete explanation. Viewed in conjunction with the two circles, the lance seems to assume a deeper level of meaning. Here it intersects and conjoins the dual worlds represented: spirit and matter, Heaven and Earth, etc. Once again, we seem to see an echo of the same elemental idea already familiar to us. Seen in conjunction with the intersecting circles, the lance serves to emphasize and reinforce the symbolism already implicit in the configuration, in much the same way that Crowley’s use of the odd geometric shape around the chalice and dove was a coded reiteration of the same theme. Finally, another context in which we see the unusual shape defined by the intersection of two circles is perhaps one of the most mainstream icons of Christianity. Turn this shape on its side, extend briefly the lines indicated by the arcs on one end, and we have the well-known fish emblem used by Christians since the earliest days. This emblem is known as the ichthys, which means “fish” in Greek, and the word “ichthys” is comprised of the first letters (in Greek) of the phrase “Jesus Christ - God - Son - Savior.” This all seems to beg the obvious question: “Why would Jesus Christ be identified with a fish?” This fish represents much of what the shape which defines it has already been shown to identify: the intersection of two realms. As a denizen of the waters, it signifies the sea, and all that the sea in turn symbolizes. For the ancients, the waters represented an intermediary point between spirit and matter. Above them loomed the heaven, below them the Earth. Hans Jonas, in his Gnostic Religion, tells us, “sea or waters is a standing Gnostic symbol for the world of matter, or of darkness into which the divine has sunk.” So once again we see the very same idea associated with the very same shape. This shape turns up repeatedly in medieval religious paintings. There is a painting of Sophia (much associated with the Black Madonnas) framed within this odd oval emblem. It would appear that a good many artists were schooled in occult theology, and like the troubadours, used their craft as a means of keeping alive a secret tradition. Perhaps the penultimate divine couple was Ia and Inana, reputedly the primordial parents from which all the early Sumerian deified kings were thought to be descendants. Inana is thought to be the prototype of most of the major goddess figures in world mythology, such as Isis, Ishtar, Astarte, Diana, etc. And in examining Inana, we find the basis of much of the unusual symbolism identified with Mary Magdalen - symbolism seemingly inexplicable in the context of orthodox Christianity. For instance, Inana was symbolized by the rose, and by Venus, the morning star, both symbols associated with Mary Magdalen. She was worshipped at dawn as the principle which animated the whole of the natural world, and at the evening, we’re told, “she became the patron of temple prostitutes when the evening star was seen as a harlot soliciting in the night skies.” Here then, we find the roots of all the major symbolism attached to Mary Magdalen: the rose, the morning star, and prostitution. Christ, in his union with Mary Magdalen, was consciously trying to manipulate or revive the archetype of 2

the divine couple. He represented spirit and the heavens, she represented matter, the flesh, and the Earth. But the myth of Inana also incorporates elements very similar to those of Christ: a story of death and resurrection. In it, she descends to the underworld and “finds herself stripped naked and tried before seven underworld judges, the Annunaki. She is sentenced and left for dead for three days and nights before being restored at the behest of Enki.” This tale of death and resurrection after three days and nights is not an unfamiliar one, and echoes of it can be seen in the legends of Christ, Osiris, and many others. But the story of Inana’s descent is unique because it appears to be the first telling of this archetypal tale. The role of the temple prostitute was a highly respected one deemed sacred, and many high-born ladies took the office. The daughter of Sumerian King Sargon II was a temple prostitute, as was the daughter of King Assurbanipal. In fact, most women were taken to the temple at the age of puberty to give their virginity as an offering to the gods. Julius Evola says in The Metaphysics of Sex that:

“These ritual or religious unions of man and woman were intended to renew or celebrate the mystery of the Ternary, or union of the everlasting male with the everlasting female (sky with Earth), when should arise the central current of creation. The corresponding principles were embodied and activated, and their momentary physical union became an effective and evocative reproduction of divine union beyond time and space.”

An interesting variation on this took place in Babylon, where once a year, a virgin would ascend by night to the very apex of the seven-tiered holy ziggurat. The high holy place was a bed chamber thought to be inhabited by God himself. The virgin spent the night there, presumably being deflowered by God the Father. Says Evola, “It was also believed that the priestess of Apollo at Patara passed the night on the ‘holy bed’ in union with the god.” Mircea Eliade, writing about the ritualistic orgies used to invoke the divine couple, said:

“The

orgy corresponds generally to the holy marriage. The limitless… frenzy on Earth must correspond to the union of the divine pair. The excesses play a very precise part in the arrangement of the sacred; they sunder the barriers between man and society, nature and the gods; they help in circulating the force, life, and seeds from one level to another and from one zone of reality into all the others.”

Indeed, ceremonies such as this gave ancient man a chance to tangibly experience the sacrum, to invoke and manifest, within himself, the archetype of

God by becoming, if only briefly (and symbolically) one-half of the Divine couple. Though the gods and goddesses of the ancient cultures that we have examined may at first glance appear to have no connection to the later creeds of Judaism and Christianity, such is not the case. Even Judaism (a relative newcomer in the context of the theologies thus discussed) had its own divine couple in the persons of El and Asherah, who appear to be the Judaic equivalent of the older Babylonian Baal and Astarte. It is thought that the Jewish move towards monotheism was necessitated when the notion of the divine couple became lost, as polytheistic cultures interacted with the Jews, giving rise to an increasingly confusing proliferation of deities, both foreign and domestic. The emerging Jewish nation needed to be united into a single will if it was to survive. And in order to accomplish this task, the polytheistic miasma of gods and goddesses, of belief and counter-belief, had to be transcended. Thus began the emergence of patriarchal monotheism, with its harsh father figure, Jehovah. El and Asherah were vanquished, and in time, Asherah was even turned into a male demon, Astaroth. Despite all of this, even in the context of patriarchal monotheism, rabbinic tradition records that even Jehovah once had a consort named Lillith. This goddess figures prominently in rabbinic lore, and is said to have left the side of God to come to Earth as Adam’s first wife. She bore Adam his first son Cain, but being of a haughty and rebellious nature, she refused to submit to Adam’s rule, eventually leaving him. Some traditions record that she went off to live at the bottom of the Red Sea with Asmodeus, the demon who plays so prominent a role in the mystery of Rennes-le-Chateau. Be it Ia and Inana, Isis and Osiris, Odin and Freya, Zeus and Hera, Kronos and Rhea, Ouranos and Gaia, Baal and Astarte, or El and Asherah, the names may vary, but virtually every culture has had a version of the divine couple. Before the formulation of the notions of good versus evil, or God versus the Devil, man understood duality in terms of male and female, Sun and Moon, of fire and water, and the divine couple represented an equilibrium between these opposing forces; a marriage, if you will, between the two. Ancient man seems to have had a far better understanding of the schematic upon which the universe operates than does his modern counterpart. At the most elemental level, most of the so-called “secret doctrines” seem to preserve this understanding. The Divine couple was not a duad of man and woman, but a triad. The third element was the equilibrium between the eternal male principle and the eternal female principle. And from the resultant harmony of the Ternary, we arrive at “One.” This seems to represent an idea central to the ancient understanding of the sacred, and can be glimpsed in its purest, most elemental form in a tradition undoubtedly of far greater antiquity still: the worship of the primordial hermaphrodite, and the ritualized practice of sacred sex.

Sexual Alchemy: The Union of Opposites

The roots of sacred sex are ancient. Down through the centuries it has been practiced in many lands at many times, both openly and beneath the cloak of secrecy. Chroniclers who refer to the rites of sacred sex are often vague both as to the details involved and the rationale behind it all. Most seem in agreement that the motivation behind sacred sex is an attempt to somehow achieve union with the divine, or awaken within the participants a spark of the divine. Christians, however, were almost unanimous in their appraisal of sex practiced in conjunction with unorthodox beliefs: it was the Devil’s handiwork, plain and simple. This notwithstanding, perhaps the most interesting and compelling rationale for the evolution of sacred sex comes from within the context of Christianity itself. Christian mystics, such as Jakob Boehme, Leo the Hebrew, Scrotus Eriugena and Franz von Baader postulated a thesis based on a unique interpretation of The Book of Genesis. According to the theory, since God created man in His own image, Adam must have originally been a hermaphrodite, a creature combining the attributes of both sexes. The original Fall occurred not when Adam and Eve exited Eden, but when God robbed Adam of his original unity by creating Eve from out of him so that he would not be alone. Therefore the sexual impulse comes from an instinctual yearning in man to try and recapture his primordial condition. According to Franz von Baader: “The higher meaning of sexual love, which should not be identified with the instinct for reproduction, is nothing other than to help both man and woman to become integrated inwardly (in soul and in spirit) in the complete human or original divine image.” This notion, bizarre and eloquent at once, has recurred in varying guises, from ancient times to modern times. We see glimpses of it in ancient creeds such as the cabala and alchemy, as well as in more modern practices such as sex magick. And its wisdom was echoed in the words of Christ when he stated, “I am of the undivided”, or, “When you were one you became two. But when you are two, what will you do?” What indeed! Though none of these Christian writers ever gave detailed descriptions of the techniques one might utilize to become re-integrated in “the original divine image”, there are some hints. At least one of them mapped out a series of energy centers within the human body which man could tap into and achieve this state. Although he stopped short of indicating the means one might employ to tap these sources, his map showed striking similarities to the locations of the chakras in the Hindu Yogic tradition. It is therefore safe to assume that these early Christian mystics had some fundamental understanding of the principles underlying the practice of Tantric sex. The word “hermaphrodite” is a conjunction of Hermes and Aphrodite, a union of the masculine and feminine aspects of God. The symbolism of the Hermaphrodite and its central significance to alchemy is well-known. Its importance to occultists in the guise of Baphomet is likewise recognized. Those familiar with Plato will recall that in his Symposium, he contended that humans were descended from a primordial race “whose essence is now extinct” - a race

of hermaphrodites. The race was powerful, yet arrogant, and when they rebelled against the Gods, they were in turn cursed and split in two. According to Plato, “From such an ancient time love has goaded human beings, one toward another; it is inborn, and seeks to renew our ancient nature in an endeavor to unite in one single being two distinct beings, and therefore, to restore human nature to good health.” He added that , “... this was indeed our primitive nature when we constituted one unit which was still whole; it is really the burning longing for this unity which bears the name of love.” This is echoed in Genesis 2:24, which says, “For this reason a man will leave his father and mother to be united with his wife, and they will become one flesh.” (Emphasis added.) Whether Plato actually believed in a de facto race of hermaphrodites or merely referred to their myth metaphorically is not important. What he cites as being the mystical genesis of love echoes the secret doctrine of esotericists from time immemorial. It is the same gnosis preserved by Hermes, said to represent the wisdom of a forgotten race of antediluvian gods. And apparently, it may well have constituted part of the secret doctrine of Christ as well. The Gospel of Thomas was one of the Gnostic texts known as the Nag Hammadi Library, which were lost until the mid-20th century when they were discovered in Egypt. In The Gospel of Thomas, Christ teaches a doctrine very different in nature to that adopted by mainstream Christianity. Some orthodox Christians deny the validity of this gospel, while others embrace it as a very beautiful text, as important (if not more so) as any found in the New Testament. Scholars argue back and forth over whether the Nag Hammadi books were essentially Christian texts aimed at a Gnostic audience, or essentially Gnostic texts aimed at a Christian audience. A third possibility exists, especially in regard to The Gospel of Thomas: What if the contents of this are in fact closer to what Christ actually taught? Could this gospel retain some fragments of Christ’s true doctrine as it existed before it was sanitized, edited and doctored to suit the political agendas of those doing the editing? It is certainly an intriguing possibility. The author of The Gospel of Thomas is said to be Christ’s own twin brother Thomas, and one would assume that if any of Christ’s disciples were to truly grasp his teachings, there would be no more likely a candidate than his own twin. There is much in The Gospel of Thomas that would have invoked the displeasure of the fathers of the early church, such as Christ’s admonition that He was “everywhere”, and not to look for Him “in a building.” Even had the rest of the gospel passed muster at the Council of Nicea, that line would surely have been deleted. A lot of the text is fairly straightforward, but certain passages are bizarre even by biblical standards. For example:

“Jesus said to them, When you make the two one, and when you make the inside like the outside, and the outside like the inside, and the above like the below, and when you make the female one and the same, so that the male be not male, nor the female female... then you will enter (the kingdom.)”

This is very explicit, and not the least bit Christian. It speaks of an initiatory process of Gnosis, a process that requires no churches, no holy men, and no prayers of forgiveness. It should have a familiar ring to students of the occult, for it is very similar to words contained in the Emerald Tablet of Hermes:

“True it is, without falsehood, certain and most true. That which is above is like that which is below, and that which is below is like that which is above, to accomplish the miracles of the One Thing. And as all things were by the contemplation of one, so all things arose from this One Thing by a single act of adaptation. The father thereof is the Sun, the mother the Moon... the power thereof is perfect.”

Not only do Christ and Hermes seem to be coming from the same place, it is amusing to note that Christ is far more explicit in his use of Hermetic symbolism than was Hermes even, the putative father of the alchemical arts. Christ was clearly invoking the archetype of the primordial hermaphrodite, inferring that the state of unity it symbolized was a prerequisite for (or synonymous with) “entering the kingdom.” Elsewhere in The Gospel of Thomas, Christ tells his disciples, “When you make the two one, you will become the sons of man...” And still elsewhere he says, “I am he who exists from the undivided.” Although such esoteric teachings don’t appear elsewhere in the officially sanctioned scriptures, they are certainly in keeping with some aspects of the Judaic tradition from which Christ emerged, and seem to figure prominently in the traditions of various groups said to have been custodians of the secret doctrine of Christ. From the Zadok priests of ancient Israel to the Knights Templar, and from the Freemasons to the Rosicrucians, all occult groups have employed symbols representing the union of opposites, and the balanced union and equilibrium of male and female forces. For instance, the “X” worn on the forehead of the Zadok priests of the Temple of Solomon was symbolic of the union of the chalice and the blade. The chalice, as receptacle, was a female symbol. The blade, as phallus, was a male symbol. Even the Temple of Solomon itself was a qabalisitic symbol, its pillars of Jachin and Boaz representing the equilibrium of creative and destructive forces. The Seal of Solomon represented much the same thing as the Temple of Solomon: an equilibrium and intertwining of opposites, in this case light and darkness, or spirit and matter. Spirit is associated with the masculine principle, matter with the feminine. The equilateral cross of the Knights Templar is also a representation of the intersection of masculine force with feminine force: the former represented by a vertical line, the latter a horizontal. The well-known square and compass of Freemasonry is yet another symbol of the conjunction of masculine and feminine principles. The square is used to draw just that: a square, a male symbol. The compass is used to draw a

circle, a female symbol. The circle contained within a square thus represents, yet again, the same equilibrium of opposites. Some even believe that the square and compass is patterned after, or indeed suggestive of, the Seal of Solomon. Alternate explanations of this symbol exist wherein the symbolism is precisely the opposite, yet the ultimate meaning is identical The rose-croix, or rosy cross assumes many forms, but again, the symbolism inherent is identical. The cross is a male symbol, and the rose female. This emblem, however, is far more specific in its iconography, with the cross symbolizing Christ, and the rose Mary Magdalen. Besides representing her, however, the five-pointed rose often employed in this symbol is also associated with both Venus and Lucifer. The Fleur-de-Lys is the pre-eminent heraldic emblem of French royalty, and is said to represent a lily, symbol of Davidic descent. While flowers in general are seen to represent the female reproductive organ, the lily is even more suggestive of a vulva than most. But unlike most flowers, the lily possesses a phallic rod which thrusts forth from its interior, making it uniquely hermaphroditic in its symbolism. All of these symbols have additional layers of meaning, and many can be explained in alternate terms as well. For instance, it has been pointed out that the rose-cross, or “rosa crux”, was a deliberate misrepresentation of what was originally called the “ros crux.” You see, “ros” means “dew”, a term for the “universal solvent” which the ancient alchemists supposedly used to transmute base matter into gold. Rosicrucians took advantage of the confusion between the two terms to consciously camouflage their true intentions in an ambiguous, seemingly unthreatening icon. Both interpretations, ultimately, are equally alchemical in nature. In fact, all the symbols discussed could be understood in an alchemical context. They all represent an integration and transcendence of opposites - a conjunction of male and female principles. Why would Christ tell his disciples to make the male like the female and the female like the male, so that the male wouldn’t be male, nor the female female? And how were his disciples to accomplish this feat, this blending of male and female? The answer: sacred sex. In what more direct manner could man or woman experience the essence of their counterpart and achieve (if only briefly) union with it? Modern readers are undoubtedly familiar with this concept as it applies to Tantra and Western sex magic, but believe it or not, it constituted part of many traditions that pre-dated Christ. Several examples could be cited, but the tradition closest to Christ and with which he would have been most familiar was the Judaic. The cabalistic text known as The Zohar states: “The Holy One... does not choose to dwell where the male and female are not united.” And elsewhere, even more specifically:

“The King (God) seeks only that which corresponds to Him. Therefore, the Holy One, blessed he be, dwells in him who (like Him) is one. When man, in perfect holiness, realizes the One, He is in that one. And when is that man called one? When man and woman are joined together sexually...” (Zohar 111, 81a.)

The Jewish mystics of Sabbatism practiced a “messianic mystery of awakening” which for them was akin to the Great Work of Alchemy. For them, woman was “a door of God, through which one enters into God.” The coming of the Messiah, they believed, happened on a purely personal rather than collective level, and could be occasioned via sexual union. Salvation was not some external condition granted by a savior, but occurred only through a direct experience of God based on personal Gnosis. Sabbatists believed that direct knowledge of God exempted them from strict adherence to Mosaic Law. It was precisely such an attitude on the part of Christ which led to his eventual downfall. Personal Gnosis could be gained only through sex, the union with man’s “other half”, woman. Sabbatist Jakob Frank said: “all the Hebrews are in great ill luck because they are waiting for the coming of the Savior and not the Woman.” The words of Christ from The Gospel of Thomas are completely resonant with those of Jakob Frank, Hermes, Plato, and The Zohar. In fact, all these seem to constitute a single doctrine, existing on a continuum. In the West we find their echoes in alchemy: in the East, Tantra. And wherever such ideas are to be found, we find also the figure of the Hermaphrodite, often as God. The androgyne of alchemy is well-known, as is the cabalistic figure of Adam Kadmon. In India, we find the Tantric god Hari-Hara: half Vishnu and half Siva. Hari is a Hindu name for the Sun, andHara is a feminine version of Hari. This figure, in one guise or another, recurs in many cultures. But where did the archetype originate? Seemingly, it came from what is generally believed to be the dawn of monotheism. In 1353 BC, Amenhotep IV became Pharaoh of Egypt. Soon after ascending to the throne, he ended a 1,700 year tradition of worshipping many gods, and instituted a new era in which one universal god would replace them: the sun god Aten. He changed his name to Ankenaten, meaning “Servant of Aten”, and proclaimed himself a living manifestation of God on Earth, the Son of the Sun. He closed the temples at Egypt’s religious center of Thebes, and shifted the nation’s spiritual focus to the Temple of the Sun at Karnak. He and his Queen Nefertiti presided over outdoor sun worship at sunrise, noon, and sunset. By doing away with hundreds of gods (and the priests who presided over them), he cleared the way for a more direct experience of the one universal God whom he proclaimed. And in so doing, he also set the stage for the acceptance of his own role as the representative of that God, a living divinity on Earth. The principle of Aten went beyond mere sun worship, such as the later manifestations of Sol Invictus and Mithras. For the Egyptians, and Ankenaten, Aten was the all-encompassing principle of creation itself, and was both masculine and feminine. As a result, this concept is reflected in statues of Ankenaten, where he is depicted as a hermaphrodite, sporting a beard, but with breasts and wide hips. This is interesting on two counts: First, and most obviously, this would appear to be the earliest known example in which a hermaphrodite is used to symbolize God as a union of masculine and feminine symbols. Secondly, and perhaps more significantly, it begs the question: How is

it that such an esoteric concept and symbol could survive Ankenaten’s short reign to re-emerge repeatedly in diverse cultures across the globe? After all, Ankenaten only ruled for a mere seventeen years, some 3,350 years ago. After his reign, the Egyptians were anxious to return to the worship of their old gods, and were eager to forget about both he and Aten. Some scholars claim that Ankenaten’s doctrine was preserved by Moses, who may have been one of his high priests. Indeed, there is circumstantial evidence in the Bible to lend credence to such a claim. Exodus states that Moses was Egyptian, and Acts tells us that he was “learned in the wisdom of the Egyptians.” Even Sigmund Freud suggests in his book Moses and Monotheism that Moses may have been an Egyptian with high status in Ankenaten’s court. Others (Laurence Gardner among them) go further still, insisting that Moses and Ankenaten were in fact the same person. Though such a supposition may initially seem outlandish, Gardner (and others) give a surprising amount of seemingly credible evidence in support of the view (too much, in fact, to recount here). If true, this could go a long way towards explaining how groups of Christian and Jewish mystics could later adopt doctrines so bizarre as to bear seemingly no relation to orthodox Christianity and Judaism (i.e. God as hermaphrodite, sacramental sex, etc.) It could further explain the migration of identical concepts to all parts of the civilized world. And although Ankenaten is said by Egyptologists to have died in 1334 BC, it’s interesting to note that his body has never been recovered. In addition to the more modern notion connecting Moses to Ankenaten, there is a theory dating back to the Middle Ages equating both men with the legendary Hermes. There is even an inscription in the tilework of an ancient Italian cathedral that reads: “Hermes Mercury Trismegistus, contemporary Moses.” If Moses was synonymous with Ankenaten, and Ankenaten was synonymous with Hermes, this could definitely explain the similarities between the Emerald Tablet and what Christ said in The Gospel of Thomas. It has been shown that much of Moses’ exoteric doctrine (the Ten Commandments, etc.) is a recapitulation of material found in the Egyptian Book of the Dead, Could it not be possible that he also passed down the esoteric doctrine of the Egyptian mysteries - the secret knowledge of the Pharaohs? According to occult legend, Ankenaten was the second incarnation of Hermes, and was in possession of the Emerald Tablet containing the secret Gnosis of the ages, which was passed down to him by Thoth (the original Hermes.) It further states that Moses’ sister Miriam smuggled the Tablet out of Egypt during the Exodus. While it is impossible to determine definitively whether or not Moses and Ankenaten were the same person, what is most important to the scenario is that Moses would seem to have had intimate knowledge (and perhaps possession) of the Emerald Tablet. This would go a long way towards explaining the overwhelming similarities between the esoteric doctrine of Hermes and that of Christ. This doctrine was said to have represented the secret teachings of a forgotten race of gods, and was preserved by Hermes after the Flood. This is interesting, because the ancient Egyptians thought that they were the descendants of Osiris, a god who came to Earth from the heavens to teach his secrets to mankind. A similar myth existed in Sumeria, a

civilization which predated Egypt and was said to have exerted a profound influence on its culture. Ever increasingly, certain scholars are beginning to suggest that this oft-repeated tale is something more than a mere myth - that someone had to have given such cultures as these some kind of secret knowledge which allowed them to accomplish feats that cannot be replicated today, even with the aid of modern science and technology. The arguments in favor of such a premise are both numerous and well-known. We will soon get into them in greater detail. Whatever forgotten race taught the ancients the secrets of high civilization also taught them a fundamental understanding of life and of God. Glimpses of this understanding can be seen in the primary principles behind alchemy, the cabala, Eastern Tantra, and Western sex magic. It represents an ongoing thread that weaves its way through esoteric traditions in both the East and the West. We see it encoded in the dominant religious symbolism of cultures across the globe, virtually hidden in plain sight. Throughout the centuries, it has been a “royal secret” known only to the elite of any given epoch. From the rulers of ancient Egypt to the rulers of ancient Europe, and from the architects of the Renaissance to the founding fathers of the United States, this Gnosis has constituted the central axis around which their world-view was ordered. It has remained a jealously guarded secret, its custodians recognizing that its wisdom was intended only for an elect few capable of inwardly grasping its full purport. For all lesser men, incapable of either fully understanding or judiciously applying the doctrine, it was destined to be at best confusing, at worst ruinous. As far as is known, this royal secret was only publicly proclaimed once for a short period of time during the reign of Ankenaten (some seventeen years beginning in 1353 B.C.) It proved disastrous, and perhaps taught subsequent bearers of the secret that esoteric doctrine as exoteric public policy (or state religion) was simply untenable. Consequently, the doctrine was veiled in the esoteric language of symbol, folklore, and the archetype of the primordial hermaphrodite. In these various guises, the royal secret has weathered the centuries, surviving all manner of suppression, persecution, and inquisition. As library after library of ancient wisdom was consigned to the flames by various orthodoxies, the sacred Gnosis was never vanquished. And for those with the ability to peer beyond the veil of myth and symbol, it remains their unique inheritance. Inheritance, in fact, may be the operative word in describing the transmission of this sacred wisdom, because a central theme that recurs in the sagas relating to the royal secret is that its guardians have been descendants of the forgotten race, and presumably genetically predisposed to comprehending it, as though its legacy lives on in their ancestral memory. It is this ancestral memory that guides man in his choices, his actions, his likes and dislikes. It causes him to feel a deep resonance towards certain things, ideas and symbols, even if the reason is unknown to him, or not readily apparent. Though modern man has lost virtually all conception of ancestral memory, the ancients no doubt understood the fundamental power it exerted over the psyche of man. This could well be another reason why they distilled their esoteric teachings into archetypal symbols, for they not only serve to preserve the doctrine, but also serve to trigger the ancestral memories slumbering in the blood of future descendants of the forgotten race.

It is the identity of this lost race that we will now explore. 1 Note that the words “mother” and “matter” are etymologically derived from the Latin “mater.” 2 This ancient association of prostitution with Venus is the foundation of the now disused term “venereal disease.”

The First Eden?

The Face of the Deep

It is remarkable how many creation myths have nearly identical beginnings. They begin with tales of a primordial chaos, and that chaos is usually symbolized by the element of water. For the Babylonians, the goddess Tiamat (“the bitter ocean”) represented the chaos which spawned all things. She took as her husband Apsu, the god of the fresh waters. This union of bitter ocean and fresh waters is certainly suggestive of a flood, and this idea is borne out by the fact that their son Ea equates with the Sumerian King Ia, who was known to history as “the Lord of the Flood.” The Egyptian story of creation also begins with water and chaos. Before the gods there was only a dark, watery abyss called Nun. Within its chaos, Nun contained the potentiality of all things and the latent divinity of the creator. At the dawn of the world a primeval mound arose from the waters, providing the first deity with a place to come into being. Finding himself alone, he created the world and peopled it with gods and men patterned on his image. This first deity became the Sun God who brought light and order to where darkness and chaos once reigned. These are but a few examples out of many. Most are not incredibly dissimilar to what is found in Genesis, where it says: “And the earth was without form and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the spirit of God moved upon the face o the waters.” (Emphasis ours.) Like the Egyptian deity, Jehovah also created order out of chaos, brought light into the darkness, and created man in his own image. Virtually identical stories are told by cultures existing in parts of the world far distant from these. The striking similarities between so many creation myths cannot be explained as mere coincidence. They have to represent a shared primordial memory of some sort. We think they do. We think the symbolism of chaos and a vast watery abyss is related to another of man’s most widespread myths - that of the Flood.

Nearly every culture recounts the tale of a global flood. Nearly every culture has a Flood hero who survives the Deluge, along with a remnant of humanity, to repopulate the Earth. We believe that the Flood represents the true starting point of our current historical epoch, and that it represents the end of the previous epoch - one referred to by many cultures as “the First Time.” Plato records that the Egyptian priests told Solon the Earth was far older than the Greeks thought, and that it had been ravaged by fire and floods repeatedly. Each time there was enough of a remnant left living to start anew. Could this be the reason why, in the first chapter of Genesis, God says to Adam, “...be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth”? The commandment is fairly unambiguous. Though contrary to the storyline, God is clearly telling Adam to be fruitful, multiply, and repopulate the earth. The story of Eden is a highly symbolic account, containing elements of both truth and fiction. Those aspects that reflect the most historical accuracy are the various names involved, which can be shown to relate to very real figures in the Sumerian king lists. “King Ia” is Adam, his son “Kin” is Cain, the third king “Enu” is Enoch, and so on. But the king lists may also contain clues which shed light on the fictional aspects of the Eden story. The Sumerians also had an antediluvian king list, which is generally regarded as a work of fiction. It purports to document a glorious pre-history of Sumer - one that stretched back 241,000 years into the past. Some of the kings included on the list were said to have lived exceedingly long lives, a few to the age of 30,000. Sumeriologist L.A. Waddell was able to demonstrate that this antediluvian king list could be patterned upon names and alternate titles of figures in the post-Flood king lists, and that the fabrication had probably been an attempt on the part of the Sumerians to reconstruct that part of their history which had been lost or forgotten. Authors of the Old Testament, using the Sumerian prototype as a guide, started their tale with the post-Flood figures, later inserting the story of the Flood out of sequence. We find support for our thesis, yet again, in the strange figure of Enoch. Central to the lore of Enoch is the notion that he preserved the lost wisdom of the antediluvian world. The question such an idea naturally raises is this: How could a figure who vanishes from biblical texts before the Flood (not to reappear thereafter) be expected to have accomplished such a task? Even in The Book of Enoch, he dispatches his “antediluvian” wisdom well before any suggestion of a coming deluge. Enoch’s story only makes sense if Noah’s story didn’t happen in the way it is presented. And evidence exists to suggest that this is precisely the case. As unorthodox as such as idea may seem, there is evidence indicating that Enoch and Noah were really the same figure. In some ancient texts the name “Noah” is rendered as “Noach”, while elsewhere Enoch is presented as “Noach.” Joseph Riess, author of Language, Myth and Man, believes that Noah, Noach and Enoch are all alternate names for the same figure. L.A. Waddell, citing different evidence, also believes Noah and Enoch to be one and the same. According to Waddell, Enoch was sometimes called “Hanuk”, and in certain translations of Genesis Noah is called “Hanuk” as well. Also, a tradition exists among the Chaldeans specifically linking the third Sumerian king Enu

(Enoch) to the legend of the Flood. Enu’s son bore the royal title of Ia-patesi (“Priest-King of God Ia”), which Waddell believes is preserved in the name of Noah’s son, Iapeth, or Japeth. Waddell even states that, “Enoch... is regarded by Biblical authorities as being identical with Noah of the Flood myth.” If such an idea was in currency with the Biblical scholars of Waddell’s time (the 1920s), it doesn’t seem to have taken hold. And yet it is immanently logical. If Enoch piloted the Ark, it would explain how it was he who was credited with preserving the secrets of the antediluvian world. In The Book of the Cave of Treasures, it is said that one of the most sacred things taken aboard the Ark was a text containing “the most ancient secrets of the church” - the very secrets synonymous with the legend of Enoch. 1

Presuming that Enoch piloted the Ark necessitates a complete rethinking of the chronology contained in Genesis, and would require viewing the events described as history told in highly symbolic terms. It is altogether possible that this may in fact have been the intent of the original authors, and that they have left enough clues for us to read between the lines. Comparing the details of Genesis with the traditions from which it was derived provides further clues still. Let us start with a simple hypothesis: Could the story of Adam’s expulsion from Eden be emblematic of a previous Golden Age empire coming to an end? And could the ensuing banishment to a wasteland symbolize the condition of a planet left devastated by a flood? Virtually every culture had a legend of a “Golden Age” sometimes in the mythical past. Perhaps the most well-known of these is that of Atlantis. Like the stories of Genesis, Atlantis is intimately connected with ideas of a fall from grace, divine retribution, and a flood. The history of Sumer begins with a flood; the story of Atlantis ends with one. Many mainstream scientists and experts now concur that such a flood did in fact occur. Is it a tale rooted in history, and not myth? Could it be possible that Atlantis was the first Eden? Let us take a closer look at the most pertinent details of both stories. Both take place in a primordial paradise of perfection, a place whose “soil produced a wealth of roots, wood, gums, flowers and fruits, the sweet juice of the grape, and corn, all desirous... vegetables... shady trees sheltered it’s happy people, and diverse fruits appeased their hunger and thirst... in a word, there was to be found ... everything which could satisfy the body, the spirit, and engender piety towards the gods.” The foregoing description, so evocative of the Biblical Eden, is in fact Plato’s description of Atlantis. It wholly reflects the popular conception of Eden, though in The Book of Genesis Eden is never described with such a vivid wealth of detail. In both stories, the end of the idyllic paradise is precipitated by a rebellion against the gods (or “God”, as the case may be). Divine punishment ensues, and the Golden Age comes to an end. Perhaps the oddest theme to be shared by both stories is that of giants. In both stories, giants are the result of miscegenation between gods and mortals - or more precisely, between gods and mortal women. Could such startling similarities be pure coincidence, or do the stories of Eden and Atlantis have a shared origin? Are the Watchers of The

Book of Enoch synonymous with the antediluvian gods, perhaps the survivors of the island’s destruction?

The White Gods

The stories of the Watchers, of Dagon and Oannes are, as we know, not unique. Nearly identical tales are told in virtually every corner of the globe. The only explanation that seems to make sense of such stories is surprisingly simple and straight-forward: they represent the interaction of peoples from radically different cultures. Imagine for a moment that people fleeing the destruction of a high civilization turned up in a society incredibly less advanced than their own? What might the local inhabitants make of them? How might the natives perceive a group of strangers possessing technology wholly unknown to them, possibly a people who looked, dressed and spoke differently than themselves - a people of perhaps far greater stature than any with whom they’d ever come into contact? Very possibly, they might be looked upon as gods. When Spanish conquistadors arrived in South America, the indigenous population though they were witnessing the return of the white gods who had visited their people in antiquity, promising one day to return. There were in for an unpleasant shock. In our own time, we have the phenomenon of the “cargo cult.” During WWII, pilots used a sparsely populated island in the Pacific to set down their cargo planes. To ensure the peaceful cooperation of the native populace, they gave them food and gifts. The locals assumed these people were gods, and when the visitors had left, ritualistic runways were constructed in their honor, and wooden fetishes shaped like planes became objects of worship. The example of the cargo cult is probably not altogether different from the sort of interactions that spawned the mythologies of so many tutelary deities: the wise teachers (or ancestor gods) who appeared to so many peoples “at the dawn of time” to bequeath their wisdom. We can choose to believe one of two things about these figures: either that they were really gods who enjoyed sharing the secrets of geometry, astronomy, agriculture and architecture; or that there was in fact a race of men at that time who had this knowledge. We can at least assume that that tales told of them constitute some form of truth, because any people fabricating their own history would surely concoct something far more self-aggrandizing. If these cultures had developed geometry, astronomy, etc. on their own, they would surely take pride in that fact, and take credit for it in their own history. If they hadn’t developed it themselves, yet produced artifacts that clearly demonstrate a knowledge of it, then it stands to reason that they must have learned it from someone else. Not only are the stories of tutelary deities nearly identical, often even the names of the figures are incredibly similar. In short, it seems highly unlikely that such stories are mere myths or fabrications. Orthodox historians would dismiss these tales, because they fall

outside the parameters of our conventional view of history. At the same time, historians seem to be at a loss to satisfactorily explain away the stunning similarities found in such myths as the following, from virtually every corner of the globe:

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In Islam, it is said that the angels “Harut” and “Marut” descended from Heaven on a golden rope, then taught men writing, math and astronomy. In Tibetan Buddhism, it is said that some 18,000 years ago, “Mura” descended from heaven on a coiled rope and taught man the “wisdom of the universe.” In Southern Afghanistan, the creator god is “Imra”, and is said to be the dynastic ancestor of all tribal chieftains. He positioned the Sun and Moon, and was known as the teacher of mankind. He is also called “Mara.” In East Africa, the creator god is known as “Imana.” (He may equate Imra.) He created the first man, who descended to Earth on a rope. The Aztecs also claimed a god who descended on a rope to serve as “the shepherd of mankind.” He taught them to read, write, plant, harvest, and construct buildings. The ancestral god of Japan’s Shinto religion was known as “Ninigi.” He too came to Earth from the heavens to rule Japan, and is thought to be the ancestor of that country’s imperial dynasty. There is a Western Semitic mountain god called “Amurru”, who was depicted as carrying a shepherd’s staff. His consort was “Athirat”, a variant of “Asherat” or “Asarte.” The Mesopotamian god “Martu” is thought to be related to Amurru. He was a tutelary god who taught his people knowledge. The Northern Arabian god “Marnas” is another tutelary god. His cult is thought to have replaced that of Dagon (a.k.a. “Muru.”) In Sudan and Zaire, the god “Tule” was said to have descended from the sky on a rope. He brought the people seeds and the tools of civilization. The Mesoamerican creator god and sun deity “Atl” appeared after a cataclysmic deluge in which all of humanity was turned into fishes.

Some of the names of these gods reveal specifically Atlantean connotations, while a full two-thirds of them contain root words relating to water or the sea. The name “Tule”, for instance, is all but identical to the Northern European designation for Atlantis, “Thule.” In some ancient cultures the word for the sea was phonetically pronounced “tl”, which serves as the root for “Atl.” And “Atl”, in turn, can be found in both “Atlas” and “Atlantis.” Over half of the names on this list contain the root words “Mer”, “Mar”, or “Mur”, all of which relate to the sea in numerous languages both ancient and modern. A connection also seems evident between these figures and the story of the tutelary god already discussed, Muru, or Maru (Dagon). He is identified as the second Sumerian deified king, Kan, the biblical Cain. His “Maru” title is of special interest, because it ties into our thesis relating the legend of Atlantis to the place remembered as Eden. 2

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According to L.A. Waddell, the Sanskrit word “Maru” has the same meaning as the Sumerian word “Etin”, or “Eden.” Plato has made evident in his Criteas and Timeaus that the name of Atlantis (and those of its gods) had been rendered into Greek, so as to be more comprehensible to readers of his native land. But other traditions relating the story of Atlantis give it the name of “Merou.” So if Atlantis is synonymous with Merou, and Maru is synonymous with Eden, might it be possible that Atlantis (Merou) and Eden (Maru) actually refer to the same place? We believe so. We have already presented evidence supportive of the fact that the figures of Enoch and Noah can both be traced to the third Sumerian king Enu, and that in the Chaldean flood legend it was he who piloted the Ark. Further support for this is found in the Sumerian king lists compiled by the Erech dynasty, in which his title is given as “Shepherd of the Vessel.” Might not such a title easily be interpreted to mean “pilot of the Ark?” If Eden was Atlantis, and Enoch piloted the Ark that preserved the remnant of its populace, it is very probable that two of the passengers on that vessel would have been his father and grandfather; that is to say: the first two kings of Sumer - the biblical Adam and Cain. As we explore the myths of the tutelary deities from the new world, the foregoing thesis will begin to seem less and less like some wild fantasy, and increasingly like a credible possibility. We will demonstrate what appear to be tangible links between the figures in these tales, and those central to both Genesis and early Sumer. Though these myths are virtually identical to those already discussed, there is a fundamental difference: the indigenous peoples assert that these gods arrived following the destruction by flood of their sacred homeland - an island.

Foam of the Sea

In the highest peaks of the Andean mountains lie the ruins of Cuzco, a cyclopean city built of massive stones weighing many tons each. In the region, it is said that a “white god” who was “very tall” had built this city in ancient times. He had come from across the sea, and thus was given the name “Viracocha”, meaning “foam of the sea.” These peaks are widely separated from the sea, and so seem to support the idea that in ancient times a flood had occurred which had made them more accessible. Other ancient cities on the continent remained undiscovered until the 1980s, because they rested on peaks so high that they were shrouded in clouds. There is a good possibility that other such cities exist in South America, atop great mountains surrounded in fog. In The Royal Commentaries of the Incas by Garcilaso de la Vega, it is clear that the beginning of their history coincides with the Flood: “After the waters of the Deluge had subsided, a certain man appeared in the country of Tiahuanaco... .” That man was known as Viracocha, Manco Capac, Illa, and to the Aztecs, as Quetzalcoatl. The author continues:

“In

the life on Manco Capac, who was the first Inca, and from whom they began to boast themselves children of the Sun... they had an ample account of the Deluge. They say that in it perished all races of men and created things insomuch as the waters rose above the highest mountain peaks in the world. No living thing survived except a man and a woman who remained in a box and, when the waters subsided, the wind carried them... to Tiahuanaco, where the creator began to raise up the people and nations that are in the region... .”

This, of course, tends to reinforce our theory that the Flood represented the true genesis of our current epoch. But there are even more intriguing correspondences. The name of Manco Capac’s descendants, the “Inca”, has more than a passing resemblance to Cain’s Mesopotamian title, “Enki“. The story being told is very much the same, and so too are many of the names involved. Viracocha is the Andean name for this figure. In the Yucatan he was called “Noach Yum Chac.” He was also known as “Illa”, which equates with the Chaldean “Ila”, and the Mesopotamian “Ellu” - “The Shining One.” Even the name “Andes” seems to allude to the Mesopotamian god-name of “An.” It was said that Viracocha could call down “fire from the heavens.” If he caused this fire to consume a huge rock, that rock would become “light as a cork”, and could be easily be used for such constructions as can still be seen at Cuzco. In Andean legends, it is asserted that this Cyclopean city was built in a single night. Like Dagon and Oannes, Viracocha taught the people to read and write, how to plant crops and till the field, and various magical arts. But there is an even more tangible link between the figure of Viracocha and the Sumerian fish gods. A statue of Viracocha exists which depicts him as a white man with a long beard. From the waist up he is normal in appearance, but from the waist down he is covered in fish scales. It would appear, then, that Viracocha was not merely a figure whose story happened to resemble that of Dagon - he was Dagon. He was in fact the very same person who appeared “from out of the sea” to impart his wisdom to the Sumerians. In some versions of his saga, he left the people and went back out to sea, promising one day to return. This is a very common element to this tale wherever it is told, and it is told all over the globe. The American Indians even have a version of it in which a fish man leads their people out of Asia and into North America. Sabine Baring-Gould describes it in Myths of the Middle Ages:

“...

The people of our nation were much terrified at seeing a strange creature much resembling a man riding on the waves. He had upon his head long green hair, [and] a beard of the same color... from his breast down he was actually a fish, or rather two fishes, for each of his legs was a whole and distinct fish. And he would sit for hours singing to the wondering ears of the Indians of the beautiful things he saw in the depths of the ocean, always closing his strange stories with these words: ‘Follow me, and see what I will show you.’ For a great many suns, they dared not venture upon the water; but when they grew hungry,

they at last put to sea, and following the fish-man, who kept close to the boat, reached the American coast.”

A related tale is told by the same author of Mexico’s “Huchucton-acateaocateao-upatle, or Fish-god-of-our-flesh... [who] somewhat resembled the Noah of sacred writ; for... in a time of great flood, when the Earth was covered with water, he rescued himself in a cypress trunk, and peopled the world with wise and intelligent beings.” This figure may or may not be the same as Quetzalcoatl, the “white god” who came to the Aztecs and erected a series of massive ziggurats. Though often depicted symbolically as a feathered white serpent, Quetzalcoatl was said to have been a bearded white man who “was very tall.” Could it be possible that all of these stories are describing various people’s encounters with the same person? Perhaps a more appropriate question would be, “What is the likelihood that they are not? The details of the stories, though mythic and seemingly improbable, all seem to correspond to one another. What are the chances that people so geographically remote from one another (the Middle East, North America, and South America) would all contrive the same tale, unless it really happened to them? What elevates such tales from the realm of mere comparative mythology is the fact that that they are connected to physical evidence which attests to their truth. The cities said to have been built by these “mythical” figures still exist, and defy all explanation. On the shore of Lake Titicaca there is a dock carved of solid stone which weighs 440 tons. In Mexico there is a ziggurat dedicated to Quetzalcoatl that has a base of forty-five square acres - larger than the pyramid of Khufu. In Sacsayhuanan, North of Cuzco, there are gigantic walls made of stones weighing between 100 and 361 tons. Whoever created such works had powers and abilities which modern man, with all of his technology, is at a loss to replicate. It is easy to see why the so-called “primitive” peoples of these regions may have viewed the creators of these monuments as gods.

Viracocha and Cain

In some versions of this story, Viracocha wasn’t just the flood hero. It was his descendants who were called “the Viracocha”, and he was called “Con” (or “Con Ticci”/“Kon Tiki.”) Yet again, we see a clear etymological link to the figure of Cain. This same figure was also known as “Sinan.” The words “Sin” and “An” both have Sumerian origins, and are both related to the Sumerian deified kings. What are the odds that two peoples half-way across the world from each other would coin these two identical words, and then use them in conjunction with one another, as the title of one of their deified kings? Quite simply, the odds in favor of it are downright astronomical. Add to this the fact that most of the other titles applied to the same figure have Sumerian equivalents, and that they all appear to relate to Cain (or his son), and the likelihood of it all being a strange

coincidence starts to look very negligible indeed. Let us review the primary correlations:

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“Kon/Con”: This is equivalent to the Hebrew “Qin”, the Sumerian “Kan”, and the Biblical Cain “Inca”: This seems to equate with the Mesopotamian Cain figure “Enki” “Atl”: He resembles Atlas, the son of Poseidon “Sinan”: This sounds like “Caanan”, another son of Poseidon “Ila”: This coincides precisely with the Chaldean “Ila, and nearly so with the Mesopotamian “Ellu.” “Noach Yum Chac”: This equates with “Noach”, considered to be interchangeable with “Enoch”, “Noah” and “Oannes.”

Keeping in mind that these people had an oral tradition, it comes as no surprise that the pronunciation of some of these titles would understandably have become somewhat garbled with the passage of so many centuries. But considering that circumstance, they are actually remarkably similar, and have undergone little more metamorphosis than did the same titles in the neighboring nations and city-states of the Middle East. Given the fact that these names are connected to legendary episodes thought to have taken place perhaps five thousand years ago (maybe more), they seem to have survived pretty much intact. And what of the strange name of “Quetzalcoatl?” A simple perusal of key Sumerian words seeming to have the same phonetic qualities gives us a series of words that not only sound similar, but make sense in the context of this figure. They are well known terms which figure in many royal titles, and which when spoken as a single word, not only sound very close to “Quetzalcoatl”, but mean “King, God, Lord of the Sea.” Such grandiose titles were not uncommon for Sumerian kings. In fact, there were quite the norm. It was far less common to find such kings whose titles were in any way understated. The most telling syllable in Quetzalcoatl’s name is “tl”, or “atl.” As James Bailey explains in The God-Kings and the Titans:

“Mexican mythology especially belonged to the Nahua-speaking predecessors of the Aztecs. In Nahua ‘atl’ means ‘sea’ or ‘water.’ Thus ‘Atlas’ would be a reasonable Mexican title for a man who knew the sea in all its depths (Odyssey) and was the son of the sea-god Poseidon (Plato). In fact, I believe that ... there is an identity between the Greek Titan Atlas and the Mexican culture-hero Quetzalcoatl, both having a common root in Berber, the remnant of the ancient Mediterranean language of the white Africans, in which the root TL means ‘water.’”

Returning to the story of the god from across the sea, we shall examine the Mayan deity of “Kukulkan”, or “Kinich Ahan.” Both of these titles bear root words relating to “king” or “Cain” (“Can” and “Kin”, respectively.) As one might expect, he is again depicted as a white man with a beard. The beard is not an insignificant detail, as the native peoples had no facial hair. According to the Mayans, this figure came to them from over the sea “to escape the flood.” Kukulcan was the Mayan Quetzalcoatl, and was similarly depicted as a solar deity of reading, writing medicine and mathematics. His most well-known gift to them was the so-called “Mayan calendar”, reputed to have fixed the exact date of the world’s end. James Bailey writes:

“The Mayan calendar required a sophisticated mathematical system; it even included a number for zero. The Mayans were thus able to use large numbers, infinitely large. The only other peoples at this date with that skill it is said were the Babylonians and Assyrians, from whom the Phoenicians are said to have borrowed a large part of their mathematics. The Mayans calculated the solar year with marvelous accuracy as 365.2420 days by comparison with the modern calculation of 365.2422 days. This invention, along with their mathematical skills, seems to have appeared suddenly amid primitive people... .”

Indeed, that was not all that “appeared suddenly” amongst these people. A good many cylinder seals were found which resembled those used by the Sumerians and Akkadians. Other artifacts indicate a later, perhaps Phoenician influence. Author Pierre Honore cites a possible Phoenician influence in his book In Search of the White Gods, in which he states that:

“[The names of Mayan letters] are indeed very like the names of the ancient Phoenician and Greek letters; some, in fact, are almost identical. Here are a few instances - giving the letters in Greek, Phoenician and Mayan in that order:

Alpha, Aleph, Ahan. Beta, Bejt, Baaz Gamma, Gimel, Ghanan Epsilon, Eh, Eb Iota, Iud, Ik Kappa, Koph, Queh

Lamda, Lamed, Lamat Tau, Tav, Tihaz.”

While this is compelling evidence, it is not the whole story. There are a good many symbols used by the Mayans that are virtually identical, and often precisely so, with those in the (as yet untranslated) “Linear A” alphabet of Minoan Crete. But if Kukulkan is indeed the same figure as the other “white gods” of South America, and is, as we suspect, synonymous with the Sumerian Kan and the Biblical Cain, it would fix the date of his appearance in the New World to a period far earlier than Minoan Crete. 4

Given the supposed relation between the Greek, Phoenician and Mayan languages, it is interesting to speculate on a possible meaning of the name “Kukulkan.” The “Kukul” part of the word sounds very similar to the Greek word for “circle”, “Kuklos”, which could render the title as “King of the Circle”, or “King of All.” When Viracocha came out of Lake Titicaca, he proclaimed himself “Lord of the Four Quarters”, meaning the four corners of the world. Many such figures used identical titles. Later they would be shortened to the more straight-forward “King of the Earth” or “Lord of the World”, both titles eventually bestowed on Lucifer himself. Kukulkan’s alternate title, “Kinich Ahan” easily equates with a simple Sumerian title. “Kinich” is “Kin-ash”, “The Lord Kin.” “Ahan” appears to be rooted in “Aha”, a title meaning “the Warrior”, and a word that was virtually the same in ancient Sumer, Egypt and India. It was part of the title of Menes, son of Sargon the Great, and the first dynastic pharaoh of Egypt.

Osiris and Cain

Some authors (such as Graham Hancock) have posited a connection between South America’s white gods and the Egyptian Osiris. Once again, their stories share a good many things in common. Osiris, like Viracocha, Quetzalcoatl, Kukulkan, et. al., appeared to his people and taught them the arts of civilization: healing, farming, astronomy, writing, and so on. He gave them their first law code. Like his South American counterparts, Osiris is associated with a high civilization that seems to have come into being all at once, at a very high level of culture. And like in South America, we have monuments, artworks, and inscriptions that attest to the existence of that high culture, yet nothing to indicate what came before it, or could have conceivably given rise to it. Nothing, that is, but the testimony of the Egyptians, who tell us that a single figure brought it all to them. Sound familiar? This is the same story told by the Sumerians in regards to Dagon, and by the Chaldeans in regards to Oannes. But the Egyptian story has an interesting twist: after founding Egypt, Osiris took his leave for a time, going over the waters towards where the Sun vanishes beneath the horizon in the West. He informed his people that he would return, but only after traveling the world to spread his teaching.

Is it even conceivable that the South American tutelary figures, all of whom “came over the waters from the East”, might not represent the same person just described? But for the difference in a few eccentric mytho-poetic details, the story of Oannes is the story of Osiris. The story of Osiris is the story of Viracocha. And as you’ll recall, Viracocha is depicted as part-man, part-fish, just like Oannes. Egyptian scholar E. Wallis Budge had this to say:

“Of the earliest phases of the cult of Osiris in the predynastic period nothing is known; it is probable that Osiris was not his original name, for the view that the name of Osiris is of Babylonian or Sumerian origin has much to recommend it.”

Indeed, the name “Osiris” is rooted in the Sumerian “Asar”, a title applied to this deity in pre-dynastic times. “Asar” is the root of “Assur” and “Ashira”, both variants of the same figure in neighboring nations. And “Asar” is a title meaning “Son of Sar” (a.k.a. “Sag” and “Zag” or “Ia”). This definitely links Asar/Osiris to the Sumerian Kin or Kan (Cain), whose alternate titles were “Asag”, “Azag”, and “Asar.” The importance of this connection will be revealed in due course. 5

Though the art of Egypt and South America is vastly different in style, there are similarities of content which are incredibly striking for the time at which they were done. In many depictions of Osiris, it is plainly evident that he is a foreigner. His skin is not merely pale, but pure white, and his eyes a pale blue. Those who surround him resemble what we would imagine Egyptians of old to look like, but he clearly looks nothing like them. So too the depictions of Viracocha, “the white man of august presence, with blue eyes and a beard.” His associates are clearly Mayan or Andean, and he is obviously not. His queen was called “Mother Egg”, because, it was said, “her flesh was as white as an egg shell.” These people were evidently far paler than the subsequent peoples known as “Caucasians.” This, again, accords with the description of the offspring of the Nephilim, whose skin was so pale that it seemed to glow. Was Viracocha one of the Watchers, a fallen angel? Or was he a man who inherited the lost wisdom of the antediluvian world, who undertook great journeys to the four corners of the Earth in order to preserve that knowledge and promote its widespread dispersal? The story is told repeatedly that when he took leave of his people and vanished back across the seas, he promised that one day he would return. It’s perhaps a token of the high esteem in which he was held that the peoples to whom he had made this promise awaited his return with great relish - for millennia. Could it be that he did in fact return - and repeatedly, but that with each return, he appeared to another people and reenacted the same scenario yet again? It would appear so. From place to place and people to people, while the stories of this figure are incredibly uniform, the monuments he left behind and the people’s description of him seem to differ greatly. Always he is a tall white man with pale blue eyes. Yet sometimes his hair is reported as dark black, and other

times it is said to be white. Could it be that the various populations are describing the same personage, but at different stages of his life? Possibly so. Most of the stories of this figure, though kept alive only in oral tradition, are seemingly very precise in detail. Take, for instance, this description of how Quetzalcoatl’s disciples were clothed, as chronicled by Juan de Torquemada:

“They were men of good carriage, well-dressed, in long robes of black linen, open in front, and without capes, cut low at the neck, with short sleeves that did not come to the elbow... These followers of Quetzalcoatl were men of great knowledge and cunning in all kinds of fine work.”

Assuming a given people (countless centuries later) could remember such concise details about how such people were dressed, the length of their sleeves, and so on, would it not follow that their recollections as to hair color, etc. might not also be trustworthy? Supposing this man went to one region early in his life, to another later, and another still later, would not the remembrances of him both differ and show similarities, as did his architecture? Of course they would. But could any person have traversed such expanses as these, and have impacted so many people in a single lifetime? Given certain circumstances, perhaps.

Odin and Cain

Some people believe that in ancient times, men had far longer lifetimes than they do presently, and that they may have lived a thousand years, perhaps longer. This, at first, sounds fantastic. But consider the facts. In the 1700s, the average lifespan was twenty-five years of age. In the 1800s it was thirty-five. In the 1900s it was sixty-five. And people born today have an average life expectancy of seventy-seven years. This means that our lifespan has virtually tripled in just three centuries. Given this evolutionary advance, where will we be a century hence, or two, or five? We couldn’t begin to guess. Nor could we begin to hypothesize the possible life spans of those who may have been survivors left over from the antediluvian world. But one thing is certain - the most ancient chronicles of antiquity are unanimous in their assertion that people once lived for incredibly long periods of time. As Josephus tells us:

“...all those that have written antiquities, both among the Greeks and barbarians... relate that the ancients lived a thousand years... .”

Josephus lists the legendary chroniclers whose works confirmed this thesis: Manetheo, Berosus, Heironymous the Egyptian, Hesiod, Hellanicus, Acusilus, Ephorus, Niclaus, and others. He then goes on to say that the good use to which the ancients put their longer lifespans is demonstrable in their advanced knowledge of astronomy and geometry. Such knowledge was demonstrated by South America’s visitors as well. James Bailey writes that:

“West

of the Maya were the tribe called Tyendal, whose white culture-bringer was Votan. [He]... invented hieroglyphic signs, taught them how to cultivate maize and cotton, and collected them into villages. Votan... is also said by them to have measured the Earth.”

Those familiar with Nordic mythology will be struck by the similarity between “Votan” and “Wotan”, the father god of the Northern European pantheon. The pronunciation of both names is in fact identical. He is also known as “Odin” or “Wodan.” Sumerian scholar L.A. Waddell has this to say about Wodan:

“Wodan is regularly represented as ... a Chaldee priest, and latterly sometimes mythologically as a serpent... .”

This is significant because the South American Votan was also symbolized as a snake. So too were Ityamana, Quetzalcoatl and Kukulkan. The figure known as “Noach Yum Chac” even wrote a text entitled Proof That I am a Serpent. In it, he asserts that he is “the third Votan”, a descendant of Chan, and - of course - a serpent. 6

Wotan/Odin, like Votan, brought his people the arts of civilization. He is credited with inventing the runes, both a form of writing and a powerful system of magic. The Nordic Eddas tell us that Odin descended from Heaven and enthroned himself as King at “Urd.” This reflects the Sumerian record which says, “Kingship from heaven was made arise. At Urdu City, kingship was made... [and] the king reigned.” The texts also call Odin “The Etil, the first leader of men.” This word “Etil” (or “lord”) the root for a number of key words. It is a royal clan title for the Nordic gods (the “Asa”, or “Aesir”), and is the basis for the “odal” rune, a symbol found in runic as well as Sumerian pictographic writing. But perhaps the most extraordinary link provided by the title “Etil” is the clear connection to another South American deity - “Atl.” And “Atl”, as you’ll recall, was a word meaning “lord”, but it also meant “the sea”, or “the waters.” So “Atl” could mean, “Lord of the Sea”, or “Lord of the Waters”, both of which echo the first Sumerian king’s title “Lord of the Flood”, or “Lord of the Deep Waters.” “Atl” is also, as we’ve said, a root word found in “Atlas”, “Atlantis”, and “Quetzalcoatl.” 7

Odin was revered by the ancient Nordics as the inventor of mead, a wine-like alcoholic beverage that was made from honey. (Remember that the bee was the royal emblem of the Merovingians.) Interestingly, certain of the South American white gods are accredited with the production of alcoholic honey drinks. Noteworthy among these was “Acan”, the Mayan god of wine. The name “Acan”, besides bearing an obvious relation to both the Sumerian Kan and the South American “Con” (or “Con Tiki”) reveals an even more explicit relation to Cain, in that the latter was renowned for the cultivation of grapes and the invention of wine. Acan added the bark of a tree to this honey brew (called “balche”), and to this day the tree is called “the balche tree.” The word “balche” seems to echo an alternate title of Cain in the Edda, where he is called “Bauge.” And in Sumer, an alternate royal title of Cain was “Bakus”, upon which is rooted the name of “Bacchus”, the legendary Greek god remembered as “the Lord of Plants and Wine.” This connects him yet again to Osiris, who was known as “Asar-Bakha” (or “Osiris-Bakha”) when represented as a bull. Osiris was also “Lord of the Vine”, and the putative inventor of wine. Before moving on it is also worth noting that the name “Acan” could carry the Sumerian meaning “Son of Kan/Kon”, representing Cain’s son Enoch, who would have undoubtedly learned the winemaking arts of his father. 8

Names relating to Enoch also show up in a South American context. An alternate title of Enoch in the Sumerian king list called The Kish Chronicle is “Naksha.” This finds accord in the Peruvian place-name of “Nazca.” In East Indian king lists, the tile of Enoch was “Nahusha”, and one of the principle early languages in ancient Mexico was named “Nahua.” Is this an indication that Enoch too journeyed to South America? Cain obviously named a number of cities in the Middle East after members of his family, and he may have done the same in South America. Take for instance, Cuzco. Ia, like all the early Sumerian kings, was known by many titles, a few of which were: “Sag”, “Zag”, “Dur”, “Dar”, and “Ukuzi.” The last one simply means “Lord Kuzi.” Could “Kuzi” and “Cuzco” be related? It would appear so. The “U” of “Ukuzi” has the same solar connotation as the “O” of “Odin.” Both prefixes share the dual meaning of “Sun” and “Lord.” If the “o” at the end of “Cuzco” has the same meaning, then “Ukuzi” and ‘Cuzco” could very well represent identical titles. And Cuzco was said to have been built by a race of sun-worshippers. 9

Ia/Ukuzi’s alternate titles of “Sag” and “Zag” reveal a connection both to the Nordics and the Greeks as well. The name given to the Nordic rune of victory was the “Sig” rune, an S-shaped zigzag resembling a lightening bolt. The Greek god Zeus is derived from “Zag”, and his weapon of preference is the lightening bolt. His son Kronos is the Greek version of Cain. The figure of Zag brings us full circle, for his son “Azag”, known by such numerous titles, is shown yet again to be the pivotal character whom we’ve examined in so many guises. Going back to the fallen angels of The Book of Enoch, L.A. Waddell has this to say:

“Further confirmation of Cain... the artificer in bronze and iron, is supplied by The Book of Enoch, which, originally written in Hebrew or its sister Aramaic script, is now arbitrarily classified as ‘apocryphal.’ It states (Chap. VIII.1): ‘And

Azaz-el taught men to make swords, and knives, and shields and breastplates, and made known to them the metals and the working of them, and bracelets and ornaments.’ Here, significantly Azaz-el, which is not a Hebrew word, except the suffix ‘el’, which means ‘Lord’, is disclosed as the Sumerian title for the second Sumerian king (Gun or ‘Cain’), namely Azag... Thus Azaz-el, or ‘Lord Azag’, the inventor of metal working of the Hebrew legend, is identified with Cain.” Thus, too, is Cain linked explicitly to the figures known in the West as fallen angels. Consequently, we can see that all of these stories are indeed the same story. The mysterious race, whether called “sons of God”, “white gods”, or what have you, are all one and the same. And they were all lead by a single figure who, despite his plethora of names and titles, equates with the biblical Cain. Because of this man’s seemingly superhuman, or even supernatural powers and abilities, he and his entourage were perceived to be angels or gods. And despite the fact that, even today, we remain incapable of understanding the exact nature of those powers, there is every likelihood that these beings were just men. The notion that they were something more than mere mortals has prevented our understanding of their saga for millennia. Central to their story has been a rebellion against “the gods”, and a flood sent in retribution. Thus we envision “the gods” in question ensconced in the clouds, atop Olympus, or in some faraway Valhalla. But what if these gods were flesh and blood beings living alongside those they ruled? What if they were a ruling elite whose level of evolution was so much more advanced than those they governed that they were perceived as gods and not as men? Then the story becomes much more straightforward. Having interbred with those they governed over for a long enough period of time, a new class would have eventually emerged - a class sharing the attributes of both the ruler and the ruled. The inevitable rebellion of this class “against the gods” can be seen, therefore, as something not the least mythological. Rather, it would have constituted a mere example of class war, described in mytho-poetic terms. The retribution taken against the insurgents was undoubtedly far more direct than a flood. In fact, the Flood had no causeand-effect relationship with these events at all. The story of the Flood was attached to the tale of rebellion to serve as a cautionary warning, lest postdiluvian peoples ever entertain such thoughts. Remember, a key element of this story, in most of the places it is told, is that the gods intermarried with the ruling dynasties, taking the daughter of the king or tribal chieftain to wife. In this way they were laying the foundation for a future global empire, mixing their genes with those of royal dynasties across the planet, so that in time the rulers of every people and nation would be their blood relations. This kind of “genetic imperialism” would inevitably lead to the emergence of a ruling class who would be perceived as descendants of the gods, and establishing the notion that they possessed the ability to bring forth a cataclysmic flood undoubtedly went a long way towards insuring that the rank and file would be on their best behavior. 10

The Decline of Civilization

If indeed the white gods were preparing the way for a worldwide empire, it was a plan doomed to failure. Though they may have had the power to impose civilization where none previously existed, perhaps they failed to take into consideration that not every people wants, or in fact needs civilization. While their efforts in the East and Middle East met with success, South America and Meso-America were another story. Though the Mayans, Incas and Aztecs seem to have flourished for a time, observers seem to be at a loss to explain why the once-thriving cultures simply shut down. Some say that the Mayans inexplicably vanished (a story also told in relation to the Mycenaeans, Cretans and Philistines). Others say that conquistadors arrived and killed these people “by the millions”; but whatever the excesses of the conquistadors may have been, it seems highly unlikely. Firstly, there is nothing to indicate that these cultures could have supported “millions” of people. And if there were millions, the logistics of a handful of men killing nearly all of them are unimaginable. A far more likely thesis, perhaps, can be found in Plato’s statements about the descendants of the gods in Critias: 11

“...

when the divine portion began to fade away in them, and became diluted too often, and with too much of the mortal admixture... they [became} unable to bear their fortune, [and became} base, and had lost the fairest of their precious gifts... .”

In other words, when the ruling class lost its ability to deal with the burden of civilization, these peoples probably abandoned their magnificent cities and returned to their native ways. They undoubtedly retained those things which were beneficial to them and bade good riddance to a good many aspects of civilization which had never been relevant to their daily lives. To this day, some tribes of Native South Americans still make boats of reeds in the style taught to them so long ago by the strange visitors. But what need does a man struggling just to survive have of geometry, astronomy, complex calendars, and the like? It is probably as utterly irrelevant to him now as it was at the height of Mayan civilization. Like many indigenous peoples, they were self-sufficient, with cultures that were organic and self-contained. The Mayans did not vanish - they just got back to basics. But at the end of the day, what ultimately became of these cultures is outside the scope of our own inquiry. We are less concerned with how they lost their culture than with how they attained it to begin with. And all of our sources tell the same story: a story with which we are well-acquainted from so many other places throughout the world.

The Atlantean Hypothesis

When we first began to research the mystery of Rennes-le-Chateau full-time, we could not possibly have conceived that our inquiries would lead to the lost continent of Atlantis. We were familiar with the writings on Atlantis by Plato, Ignatius Donnelly, and others, but we considered the story to be little more than a curious (though fascinating) episode from mythology. Over the course of a number of years, however, our researches would repeatedly point back to the lost island kingdom. Following the evidence to where it lead us, we began to compile a compelling array of material in support of the Atlantis hypothesis, much of which has already been discussed. In the years that ensued, we began to find it increasingly plausible that Atlantis could very well play a key role in this whole mystery. In time, we would come to have our suspicions confirmed - and confirmed by the most unexpected source: the Priory of Sion itself.

For those desirous of further proof connecting Enoch with Noah, Waddell refers readers to the 1920s edition of Encyclopedia Britannica, page 623.

1

This also shows a correspondence with the Islamic “Allah”, who was originally known as “Tualla.” 2

3 Short for “Marud” or “Nimarud”, alternate titles of Kan.

4 The discovery of such artifacts as a doll bearing a Roman inscription, and dated in the thirteenth century AD indicate that people must have come to this place after a period of many centuries. The Phoenicians and Minoans could well have known of this site from the legends of an ancestor who had visited it far earlier - the figure remembered by the Mayans as Kukulkan.

5 The names “Oannes” and “Osiris” have nearly the same meaning. The “es” and “is” at the end equate with the Sumerian “Ash”, meaning “Lord.” The “an” in “Oannes” means “god.” The “sir” in “Osiris” equates with the Sumerian “Sar” or “Sha”, meaning “king” or “god.” It is from this root that we derive “Shah”, the aristocratic title of “Sir”, and the royal appellation of “Sire.” In many ancient languages an “o” or a “u” meant “sun”, and can be seen in the titles of numerous solar deities. So both “Oannes” and “Osiris” are titles very much consistent with those used by South America’s deified kings, albeit perhaps somewhat less verbose.

In the elder Norse Eddas, Wodan was represented as a Galdur, a word synonymous with “sorcerer.” But Galdur’s real meaning was simply “Chaldee” or “Chaldean.” Remember that the Church of Joseph of Arimathea in Glastonbury was called early on the “Culdee Church.” And it was said that the first followers of Christ in England, “were the pure Culdees [Chaldeans.]” Remember too that certain Biblical patriarchs were Chaldean Abraham, for instance was from the Chaldean capital of Ur. There is an Indian tribe in South America called the Uru, and even orthodox scholars can’t help but comment on the seeming connection between the words Ur and Uru. But few dare comment on the similarity between Votan and the Northern European Wotan. Those who do, do so only in passing, and then only to dismiss the possibility of any apparent correlation. Their logic seems to be that the same figure couldn’t conceivably play a role in two separate and distinct cultures. But their logic is faulty.

6

The same ideogram has been found in Egypt, Crete, Etruria, Brazil, and on various pre-historic megaliths.

7

It is interesting to note that the word “apis” means “bull” in some ancient languages, and “bee” in others. 8

9 There is also a native American tribe in the region called Aymara, suggestive of Amaru or Amuru, descendants of Muru (Cain.) Furthermore, the East Indian king lists record that Enoch/Naksha had a grandson named “Puru.”

10 Mythology (particularly Greek mythology) abounds with tales of gods seducing or raping queens and princesses. It is a major thematic element.

11 If the number were even 2,000,000, to kill them all would take a year’s time, even if 230 were killed per hour, 24 hours a day, every single day.

The Alpha and the Omega

“In the beginning… was the end.” - Anonymous

The Underworld

The legend associated with the descendants of Cain says that they dwelt in the “underground kingdoms.” Interestingly, a number of places associated with the legacy of Cain were also the locations of underground tunnels, labyrinths, and even cities. In Jewish legend, it was said that after Cain’s expulsion from Eden, he went to a subterranean named “Arka.” This obviously equates with the wellknown “Agartha”, an underground city in Asian legend, and the less well-known Egyptian underground world “Agert.” An alternate title of Cain was “Ag”, and both underworld names appear to have been connected to him. But underground cities seem to be more than mere myth. In South America, there are countless miles of underground passages, many of which have never been fully explored even to this very day. Some think that they criss-cross the continent, connecting the cities to one another. Andrew Collins, in his book From the Ashes of the Angels, connects the legend of fallen angels to a series of underground cities in ancient Cappadocia, now modern Turkey. Using comparative mythology and other clues, he traced the stories of the Watchers to Kurdistan, Persia, and Cappacodia in an attempt to locate the historical location of the biblical Eden. In the process, he investigated an unusual series of structures called Fairy Towers. These were huge conical structures made of volcanic rock, the interiors of which had been carved out to be used as temples and dwellings. The legend associated with them is that they were the fire chimneys of the Djinn, a race of angelic-demonic beings descended from Azazel, the fallen angel antagonist in The Book of Enoch. Azazel is a huge figure in this part of the world, and is the central deity worshipped by Kurdistan’s Yezidis (who were said to have been the world’s first devil worshippers.) Strangely, Collins was to discover that the locale of the Fairy Towers, a place called “Derinkuyu”, also concealed another bizarre archeological legacy dating back to ancient times: the astonishing remains of a full thiry-six underground cities. That the cities are also connected to Azazel and his descendants, the Djinn seems very much likely, although no one really knows who built them. It was long speculated that they were the handiwork of early Christians, who used them as a means to escape Muslim persecution. But such an explanation is unsatisfactory, since the tunnels would have provided their persecutors an easy means of simply sealing them inside and starving them to death en masse. Of the thirty-six subterranean cities, most, like the tunnels in South America, have never been fully explored. The one at Derinkuyu, assumed to be the

largest, was described by Collins as a “vast underworld, covering an estimated two and a half square miles… .” Of Derinkuyu, Collins goes on to say:

“So far eight different levels have been explored... though between eighteen and twenty are known to exist. The first three stories alone contained 2000 households, providing accommodation for an estimated 10,000 people. Scholars have estimated that anything up to 20,000 could have lived comfortably in the Derinkuyu complex at any one time, and if this figure is considered in the knowledge that at least another 35 similar cities exist in the region, then it paints an awesome picture of what appears to have been going on here in ancient times. Anything between 100,000 to 200,000 people would have been able to live comfortably in these citadels for any conceivable length of time. More incredible still is the fact that long tunnels are known to have linked several of these cities. One such tunnel, situated on the third story at Derinkuyu is thought to connect with the underground complex of Kaymakli five miles away. Moreover, the passage in question contains ventilation ducts to the surface and is large enough to enable three to four people to walk upright, side by side, along its entire course.”

Oddly, the passages thought to be the oldest are also the tallest, and reach a height of seven feet, leaving Collins to ponder why people would construct tunnels so tall, unless perhaps they needed the headroom. David Hatcher Childress, in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Armageddon, describes a tunnel said to stretch from near Sao Paulo, Brazil all the way to Machu Pichu, Peru in which the height was an incredible nine feet tall. He also relates a story told by a local who said that he saw a man seven feet tall and “strangely dressed” disappear into that same tunnel. These stories are extraordinary, because in so many myths the abode of the gods is located not in the heavens, but in the underworld. And in any number of myths, the story is told of a race of giants “cast into the abyss”, or the underworld. The work of Collins is particularly interesting because it abounds with names and place-names that appear to be etymologically linked with so much that is central to our research. His work seems both to dovetail with our own, and independently confirm many of our most primary hypotheses. He confirms the pivotal role played by Azazel, whom, as we have demonstrated, is synonymous with Cain. Azazel’s progeny, “the Djinn” (pronounced “Gin”), obviously take their name from Cain’s alternate Sumerian title, “Gin.” This ties into the Jewish folk tales of Cain’s descendants (the Cainites) having dwelt underground. Place-names of the region reveal similar connections. “Kaymakli”, the name of a city connected via tunnel to Derinkuyu, may be rooted in the Sumerian “KhaMukla”, or “Hole of Mukla.” And “Mukla” is the Sumerian origin of “Melchi” and “Michael”, two titles that are also associated by some authors with Cain. Since remains of Khatti/Hittite towns were found built above the underground cities, it

is not unreasonable to conclude that many of the region’s place-names might retain traces (at least) of their Sumerian origin. Other names in the area such as “Kharsag” and “Zagros” contain “Sag” or “Zag”, an alternate title of Cain’s father, Ia (Adam). There is a range of mountains called the “Taursus”, and although the name clearly dates from a much later period, it obviously retains a connection to the symbolism of the bull, a sacred animal for Cain and his descendants. Most remarkable of all, perhaps, is that Collins places the location of the original Eden somewhere in the vicinity of Lake Van, a region whose landscape is dominated by a massive extinct volcano called “Nemrut Dag.” Nemrut Dag simply means “the Mountain of Nimrod”, or “Mount Nimrod.” That an extinct volcano in the Garden of Eden is named after Nimrod is incredible enough, but the revelation that “Dag” can sometimes means “mountain” adds a new layer of meaning to Cain’s title of “Dagon.” Viewed in this context, “Dagon” could also be seen as meaning “Lord of the Mountain”, equivalent to the very title often given to God in the Old Testament, “El Shaddai.” This view is reinforced by the fact that “El Shaddai” is believed by many scholars to be the basis of “El Shaitain”, an older name for Satan. The Yezidis also saw El Shaitain as simply another name of Azazel. So all of the ideas, the comparative mythology, and the names, fit together like hand in glove, as though they were of a single piece. And indeed, they are. As we have demonstrated, Azazel is Cain, and Cain is Dagon. Dagon is the Lord of the Mountain, El Shaddai. El Shadai is El Shaitain, and El Shaitain is Azazel. The history of Sumer tells of a people who came down from a high place, or “the highlands” (the mountains) to take control of “the plains of Shinar” (Sumer). It also tells of gods who “descended from the heavens” to become the kings of Sumer. The legend of the Watchers tells a kindred tale. And the equivalent of Heaven in ancient Greece was atop a mountain called “Olympus.” Are all of these stories based on the same historical prototype - a very real circumstance often related in mythic terms? It would appear so. But in the Old Testament it is not said that God/El Shaddai lives on a mountain, but rather in a mountain. Did the race of the Watchers dwell in underground cities inside mountains before descending to the plains to build similar cities such as Derinkuyu and Kaymakli? Is it the notion of the gods coming down from atop mountains that served as part of the inspiration for the ziggurats - the man-made holy mountains scattered across the globe? And if these beings had lived in cities within actual mountains, could the mountains have concealed entrances to “vast underworlds” as well? It is certainly possible.

The Lords of the Mountain

But all of this begs the question: Why would they want to live in underground cities? It is quite possible that at some point in their history, simple survival necessitated it. After all, central to our understanding of the story of the Watchers is that they were the remnants of a previous high civilization that somehow survived a global cataclysm. We hypothesize that given the physical descriptions of the Watchers, these were a people who at some point in their

evolution were forced to spend an extended period of time beneath the Earth’s surface. Whether or not you believe in the Hollow Earth theory, the persistent notion connecting these people to the underworld or “Abyss” has to have a basis in some historical truth. Thus far, the idea of the Hollow Earth remains mere conjecture based upon folklore. But if those known to us as the Watchers were forced to literally go underground for an extended period of time, this circumstance could have served as the basis for such folklore. If the Watchers were required to live underground for long enough, hidden from the rays of the Sun, this could easily explain the loss of pigmentation in both their skin and hair. It could also explain how their eyes could “glow like flames of fire”, as The Book of Enoch states. Evolution would have given them pupils large enough to see perfectly in near or complete darkness, like cats. Who has not witnessed a cat’s eyes in a darkened room, or at night in the headlights of our car, reflecting and magnifying the available light? We might not say they looked like “flames of fire”, but the ancients may well have. This may even be one of the factors leading to the ancient notion that cats were “demonic”, as the Watchers were said to have been. And if the ancients saw a people a foot or two taller than themselves, with skin as white as snow, and eyes of fire, what might they reasonably have concluded? That they were gods? Or devils? Or angels? Or demons? They might logically have assumed any of these. And judging from the mythological accounts, they drew all four conclusions at one time or another, because that is precisely what these varying accounts assert. The “underworld thesis” may also shed some light on the recurring mythological theme of the Black Sun, a scenario of death and resurrection. When the king dies, the sun turns black. He descends to the underworld and is reborn as God, a very bizarre notion. But imagine for a moment that the death of the king symbolizes the destruction of his empire by a global cataclysm. The sun is blotted from the sky by unprecedented storms such as would flood the entire world, or by violent volcanic activity that would fill the atmosphere with ash, and reduce the temperature so abruptly as to trigger an ice age. Such theories have been posited by very credible members of the scientific community as plausible theories to explain major earth changes of the past. Now imagine that some people are able to escape the cataclysm by going underground to live. Perhaps they know of secret passageways to the Hollow Earth, or simply vast subterranean caverns. Perhaps they had underground cities already in place and well-stocked, because their far-distant ancestors had experienced similar cataclysmic events. Note how Biblical patriarchs who became key advisors to enemy rulers (such as the Egyptians) advised them to plant crops in excess of their immediate needs, and stockpile the additional portions for use in times of emergency such as draught or flood. It’s as though this procedure were a key part of their tradition. Yet they weren’t presented as being part of an agricultural community, but as nomadic shepherds. Could they have preserved this tradition because they were the descendants of survivors of previous cataclysms? In the case of an ice age, these people would be confined to quarters for an incredibly long period of time. The surface dwellers who managed to escape to more hospitable climates would have still been impacted by harsh conditions, and have had to revert to barbarism in an ongoing struggle just to keep warm and alive. The subterranean people, however, would have had a temperate refuge -

one in which they could live comfortably (as Andrew Collins puts it) “for any conceivable time.” They would have been in a position to preserve the knowledge of their lost civilization, while those on the surface could count themselves lucky just to have survived. When things slowly, incrementally returned to normal climactically, those who emerged from the underworld would not be the same as those who had remained on the surface. They would look different, and indeed be different. They would have evolved differently. And too, those scattered about the surface may well have devolved. This accords with the descriptions of the two types of people often contrasted in the Bible. One is milky-skinned and pure, the other dark-complexioned, abhorrent and covered with hair. Those on the surface would no doubt be darker-complexioned and probably hairier. Were the remnants of these two types still highly visible specimens even so late as Old Testament times? Possibly so. But the subterranean Watchers would not have been able to easily make the transition back to surface life. Having lost their pigmentation, they would have been extremely sensitive to the Sun’s rays. This could account for the paradoxical descriptions of the Watchers’ skin as “white as snow”, and conversely as “red as a rose.” Also, since their eyes would have evolved to see in the absence (or near absence) of light, they probably could not have stood much direct sunlight. If they initially emerged only at night, they could have fueled the lore in some mythologies that they were akin to vampires. Was this the source of the notion that demons lived beneath the Earth, or that demons only came out at night? Could it have been the source of the idea that a group of gods was cast into the Abyss? It seems a very likely idea, and it would explain the widespread pervasiveness of such beliefs. At any rate, it seems far more conceivable that these widely held beliefs had some sort of origin in fact, rather than being universally concocted for no particular reason. Even the most outlandish superstitions and beliefs had to have had their origin somewhere, and in something which was at one time concrete. This brings us back to the myth of the Black Sun, which is connected to the myth of Osiris, whom we believe to be synonymous with Cain. Is it a form of symbolic shorthand, intended to be emblematic of the idea that he actually survived the process of death that had destroyed a world, i.e., the Deluge? Most people dismiss the story of Noah’s Ark because the idea of putting a pair of every species of animal on board a boat seems to defy all logic. They then conclude that since the incident “couldn’t” have happened in the manner described, it therefore didn’t happen at all. But let us assume for a moment that the Bible story is a highly embellished retelling of an older story based on a real incident. If we were instead to assume that the passengers on the Ark were merely a few hundred men and women fleeing a natural disaster, does not the story already seem more plausible? They may well have brought as much livestock as possible, though its a cinch that wildlife brought on board ended up as food for the passengers, and not repopulating the Earth. There have always been varying traditions about where the Ark came to rest. Some say Mount Ararat, some say a location nearby. There is credible evidence in support of both views. Aerial photographs of Mount Ararat show

what appears to be the Ark emerging from a sheet of ice. But not so far away, on a peak traditionally called “the Mountain of Death”, modern researchers believe to have landed there during the Flood. Both of these peaks are in the general vicinity of Nemrut Dag and the underground cities. Since Nemrut Dag (“Mount Nimrod”) is one of the highest peaks in the region, would it not seem a likely landing place for the Ark? Perhaps it was. Perhaps there were several arks, and each was carried to the same general locale by the same current. Each came to rest on a different peak, giving rise to different traditions. Perhaps each tradition contains a seed of truth, and what is false is the notion that there was a single Ark. In fact, when it was announced in August of 1883 that a ship thought to be the Ark had been discovered on Ararat, the New York Herald published a sarcastic article in which it posed the question that if ark-building had been practiced in ancient times, why had not a dozen arks washed up atop various mountains? Well, perhaps they did. Perhaps this is why the names of flood heroes vary, and why different stories have the Ark coming to rest in different places. Those who survived the Flood were members of a great sea people, so it is not outside the realm of possibility that others escaped as well. But despite this possibility, most of the legends we have examined appear to be dealing with essentially the same figure. We believe that the Flood represents the starting point of our current historical epoch, and that the story of the Flood is also the story of the Watchers. In the usual telling of the Flood saga, the Ark comes to rest on an incredibly high mountaintop, and in short order the Earth is dry. Its inhabitants descend the mountain and give thanks to God for surviving. But how does a completely flooded Earth simply become dry so quickly? Where does all the water go? Would it not take years for the waters to “subside”? There is speculation that the Flood was caused by the end of an ice age. Melting ice and snow turned to liquid and soon the world was submerged under water. Might it not be just as likely that a flood preceded an ice age? That the same climate changes that caused the Flood created a global cooling that turned the waters of the Deluge to ice? If it happened that way, the only chance for survival would have been to dig out an underground dwelling in the mountaintop. But it may also have been their best option even if the survivors were just in a ship atop a mountain peak, surrounded by an endless sea. A good many of the mountain peaks in the region where the Ark is reputed to have landed are volcanoes, and the soft volcanic rock would have been perfectly suited for the building of underground cities. Also, these peaks are not terribly far from the complex of underground cites found around Derinkuyu. Though this thesis may understandably sound far-fetched, it is not mere gratuitous speculation. It is rooted in the numerous myths and legends of underground kingdoms, many of which were said to be accessible through holy mountains. Such stories are also invariably connected to mythic histories of gods, demons, genies, and so on. The idea that a race of beings, perceived to be gods, lived inside a mountain, both long prior to their contact with humanity and long after, is persistent and widespread. Even Sargon the Great is known to have made the enigmatic statement that his father’s brother “dwelled in a mountain.” The clear implication

seemed to be that he was a direct descendant of the gods, and that their dwelling-place was inside a mountain. Presumably, such an inference was plainly understood at the time the statement was made. This may be the reason why the pre-eminent religious structure in ancient times was the man-made holy mountain. These structures were the central focus of religious and political life. They were at once temples, brothels, and royal palaces, home to the king, the sacred harlot, and reputedly, the gods themselves. Were they symbolic recreations of the original holy mountain from which the gods “descended from the heavens” to share their wisdom with man?

The Primordial Blacksmith

A number of mythologies have figures roughly equating with Cain, all of whom live in volcanoes. As previously stated, Azazel’s descendants, the Djinn, were said to have lived in volcanoes. Azazel is credited with inventing metalworking for the fabrication of tools and weapons. So was Cain. The Djinn were supposed to have been a race of blacksmiths. As Andrew Collins relates:

“Not

only would copper and lead smelting have become a sacred profession in its own right, but blacksmiths would have been classed as fire priests under the dominion of the genii (i.e., the Djinn) of the fiery domains… The significance of fire, and in particular volcanic fire... signifies the magical power by which the blacksmiths could change rock into metal objects such as jewelry, tools, and weapons.”

Perhaps to the very primitive ancients, the art of the blacksmiths was equivalent to the later black art of al-chem-y (“chem” meaning “black”), the science of transmuting one substance to another. Instead of turning lead into gold, they turned rock into metal. The primordial blacksmith of Roman myth was Vulcan, from whose name we derive the word “volcano.” He was said to have dwelt in Mount Ertha, a volcano. His very name preserves the root of the more ancient permutation of Cain’s name, “Kan.” Like Cain, Vulcan was viewed as the inventor of tools and weapons, but also of jewelry (so symptomatic of human pride and vanity). He was the god of fire and forges, and his workers were a race of giants, the Cyclopeses. His frequent consort was Venus, a goddess who equates with the consort of Cain, and whose role in the Grail mystery is of central importance. 1

Vulcan is widely believed to be based on the Greek Hephaistos, who forged metal objects possessing magical powers. Though relegated to the position of a minor deity, and revealing none of the qualities traditionally associated with Cain, his connections thereto are nonetheless inescapable. It was said that after a brief liaison with the goddess Athena, she gave birth to Ericthonus/Erectheus,

the first king of Athens. This figure is universally regarded as synonymous with Enoch, the son of Cain. Hephaistos is also said to have been fathered by the Kabeiroi, an “arcane race of blacksmith gods.” Elsewhere in the world this race was known as the Cabiri, and has been associated with the Djinn. History places the Cabiri in ancient Phrygia or Cappadocia, essentially in very much the same geographic location as the underground cities and fire chimneys discussed earlier. If the term “Cabiri” was translated as an ancient Sumerian term, it would have to be a conjunction of “Kha” and “Bir”: the “Kha” meaning “fish, setting sun, glory, complete, perfect, great”; and the “Bur” meaning (among other things) “bright, shine, pure, the sun”, or “offspring, young, child, brood.” This presents us with a nearly perpetual permutation of possibilities, including (but not limited to): “fish of the sun”, “offspring of the fish”, “children of glory”, “children of perfection”, “shining fish”, “brood of the setting sun”, and so on. None of these titles would be inconsistent with the myths we have thus examined. High Mason Albert Pike equates Hephaistos with, “Tsadok... the supreme god in Phoenicia. His Seven Sons were probably the Seven Cabiri; and he was the Heptakis, the God of the Seven Rays.” We have already equated Cain, and thus Vulcan and Hephaistos, with Zadok, a term which in Sumerian probably meant “Sha-Duk”, or “Lord of the Sun.” The Essenes called themselves “the Sons of Zadok.” They claimed direct descent from Noah. So too did the Yezidis of Kurdistan, the strange so-called devil-worshippers who held Azazel/Cain in high esteem. Are all of these groups simply deluded? Or could it be that they are all privy to a secret doctrine of some sort? If so, it would appear to be the same secret doctrine, since they all seem to believe essentially the same thing. And it all seems to correlate very closely with what we have hypothesized all along, if not precisely. Let us review: Zadok seems to equate with Azazel/Cain. The Sons of Zadok, the Cabiri, seem to equate with the Djinn, the sons of Azazel. These are also the sons of Hephaistos. They were all originally located in Cappadocia, Kurdistan, and Phrygia, and later relocated to Greece and Rome. Their early names reveal an etymological connection to ancient Sumer, while the later versions are largely Greco-Romanized. The names have been changed, but the myth remains the same: gods dwelling in a mountain, a volcano, or an abyss, possessed of magical powers to transmute the base to the high, to make something of nothing. And what of Zadok/Hephaistos, the God of the Seven Rays? The Seven Rays equate to his seven sons, which in turn relate to the seven stages of the ziggurat, and presumably, the seven heavens that this hierarchical clan was said to occupy. Interestingly, the seven Cabiri also seem to equate with the seven “builder gods” said to have come to Egypt after their homeland, “the island of the gods”, was destroyed by a flood. Though gods represented as blacksmiths may sound utterly irrelevant in a modern context, it is difficult to overestimate the impact that the introduction of metalworking had on planetary evolution. Those who knew how to extract and

manipulate metals wielded vast economic and political power. Those with whom they shared the byproducts of their specialized knowledge gained a great survival advantage. The Watchers appeared to people who essentially had not evolved beyond the level of hunter-gatherers, and taught them the arts of agriculture, giving them the tools of attack and defense, bringing them wholesale into a new world. Had they not intervened, it is impossible to estimate how long it might have taken these people to have discovered such knowledge and techniques on their own. If the Bronze Age had been postponed for 1000, 2000, or 5000 years, humanity today would exist in a very different world indeed. Had it occurred even a short thousand years later, we would all be living in a manner akin to medieval times. The forbidden knowledge passed down by the Watchers essentially jumpstarted civilization and provided the very foundation for everything we today take for granted. Consider the fact that there are people in Africa who have lived by the sea for millennia, yet have never stumbled upon the notion of putting sails on their boats to harness the power of the wind. Had someone taught them how to do this four or five thousand years ago, how might this simple bit of knowledge have impacted their subsequent evolution and quality of life? The effects of such a seemingly basic piece of technical advantage could easily have produced inestimable consequences, as did the knowledge that the Watchers taught us. The invention of the plough accredited to Cain may seem like a lowly accomplishment for a god, yet the shift to an agriculturally-oriented society set man on an altogether different path, and drastically altered his destiny. It created the basis for men to come together in communities, and nomadic tribes gave way to city-states. The impact of mining was equally decisive. The advent of the Bronze Age signaled a huge change in human society. Because bronze was an amalgam of copper and tin, this forced man to traverse great distances by sea in order to obtain the necessary tin. The most well-known ancient source of tin was in Cornwall, England, a great distance from the ancient Near East. In going back and forth between the British Isles and the Near East, trade routes were established, and the great ports such as Marseilles would eventually become major centers of commerce. Soon the major traffic was not just in tin, but in any commodity abundant in one region and scarce in another. Cedar from Lebanon was shipped to Egypt and Greece, olive oil from Greece was exported to regions without olive trees, and so on. It was this sort of international commerce which facilitated the early blossoming of civilization. The sea, which is so often thought of as being a barrier separating ancient societies, was actually a highway which linked them to one another. It has been demonstrated beyond a shadow of a doubt that the early sea peoples traveled to all corners of the Earth, millennia before Columbus. But none of this would have been possible if not for the knowledge of the Watchers. The true legacy of the Watchers was not merely in the material realm, or limited to knowledge alone. Their most decisive impact on human evolution may be genetic in nature. By interbreeding with the people they found, they in effect created a new kind of man. Their hybrid offspring obviously reflected their more highly-evolved nature. Thus they were creating a class of human beings bearing a greater capacity to understand and implement the “arts of civilization”, which

the Watchers were the evangelists of. And without this new genetic type, again, it would be difficult to estimate what direction human evolution may have taken. Having formulated the foregoing hypothesis, additional information has come to light which brings us full circle and seems to neatly tie together any loose ends. It seems that the remains of the Ark so often reported by eyewitnesses on Mt. Ararat were never visible in modern times until 1840. In that year a violent earthquake rocked Ararat, the falling debris wiping whole villages off the face of the Earth. A byproduct of this cataclysm was that a huge chunk of glacier slid from the mountain’s summit and lodged itselt between two peaks two-thirds of the way down Ararat. Frozen inside the massive piece of ice were the perfectlypreserved remains of a gigantic ship - the Ark. If the weather is warm enough in summer months, one end of the huge chunk of ice sometimes melts enough that the front of the Ark lays exposed. But for at least ten months of the year, and often year-round, the giant wooden structure is visible only as a dark shadowy configuration concealed within a wall of ice. Those who have seen it exposed (and there have been many) tell virtually identical stories. The structure contains several levels, countless rooms and chambers, and a huge door (which is now missing). Each witness relates that the Ark had very high ceilings. They all tell that it can only be partially explored, as the aft regions are frozen solid with ice. Since many of these stories predate modern mass communications, they also predate a time period in which an “Ark lore” could have developed to explain these stories’ consistencies. The location of the wreckage is, even by modern standards, in the middle of nowhere and at the ends of the Earth, at a geographic region straddling Turkey, Russia, and Iran. Locals who made the trek in the quest for the Ark had no access to cameras at the time and probably still don’t today. Outsiders who made the quest were often greeted with hostility by suspicious local government authorities, and even greater suspicion from nearby villagers. Though the eyewitness accounts of the Ark are fascinating, what is even more compelling in our estimation is that the very event which revealed the Ark to modern eyes seems to have been the result of geological anomalies in Mt. Ararat itself, for it appears that Mount Ararat was partially hollow. The earthquake that shattered the peak of Ararat and devastated the villages at its base opened a crevice on the mountainside revealing “a vast abyss” that reached to “its very heart.” Some early observers of this chasm estimated the abyss to extend to a depth of perhaps 9000 feet. Considering that Ararat is approximately 16,000 feet in height, that’s some abyss. Also, evidently, since the time of the Ark’s reputed landing, melting icecaps have over the centuries filled the hollowed-out underworld with a vast quantity of accumulated water. When Ararat cracked open at the time of the earthquake, massive amounts of water rushed out, enough to flood an area of thirteen square miles. 2

Though Ararat was a volcano, it is a mistake to conclude that this meant it was a hollow honeycomb of passages via which molten lava could be disgorged. Not at all. Most volcanoes are solid mountains of volcanic rock. Some retain concave hollows at the very peak, but this is not at all synonymous with being hollow “to their very heart.” And Ararat possessed twin peaks, which matches

up with many legends in which the primordial holy mountain had “twin peaks reaching to Heaven.” Before this peak was called “Ararat”, it was known as “Aghri Dag” - Mount Aghri. This word “Aghri” is a name rich in possible associations. It could be the primary root of the names of the previously mentioned underground worlds “Agartha”, “Agert”, and “Arka.” “G” and “K” are both sounds that linguists call “gutturals”, and were virtually interchangeable in early tongues such as Sumerian. Note that the nearby “Cudi Dag” is today called “Mount Judi.” The “C/K” and “J/G” sounds have been transposed, and each name clearly echoes “Catti”, or “Guti”, both Sumerian names for “Lord/King.” The town at Aghri’s base, said to be “of the greatest antiquity”, now wiped out by the earthquake that disgorged the Ark was named “Aghouri”, or “Ahora.” The word further resembles the name “Ahura”, the god of light in Zoroastrianism. And of course, the Watchers were called, in Sumeria, “the Shining Ones.” The “Ag” root of Aghri is, as stated before, a title of Cain, “Lord Ag.” As it turns out, “Ag” is also a word meaning “fire”, “spirits of the deep”, “fiery spirits”, or “evil spirits.” Those who dwelt in a hollow volcano could well have been designated by any of these titles, all of which would be equally applicable to the Djinn. If we assume “Aghri” to be one and the same as the “Arka”, we find that “Ar” (“fire”) and “Kha” (“hole”) would then mean “hole of fire”, or “fire hole”, an apt designation for a volcano. “Agkha” would mean precisely the same thing, while possessing the additional connotation of “the Hole of Lord Ag”, or “the Hole of Cain.” “Agri” would then mean “fire of the sun.” The descendants of Cain were associated with fire, volcanoes, the Sun, and the underworld for many centuries, so all of these conclusions seem apropos. The word “Ag” also shows up in “Anag” (“Anak/Enoch”), which means “son of Ag/Cain.” And “Anakim” is, of course, another Biblical term for the fallen angels.

Omega and Alpha

Our final set of clues pertains to the Garden of Eden. In Sumerian, “Edin” meant “lofty temple, abode, or high place.” Though there was a specific place anciently called “Eden” (or “Etin”), Andrew Collins claims that the original title of Eden was in fact “Kharsag.” Immediately, this alternate place-name reveals much more to us, and relates to the foregoing theories. “Kharsag” is a conjunction of the Sumerian Qar (meaning “vessel”), and “Sag”, (the alternate title of Ia). So “Kharsag” would mean “the Vessel of Sag”, or “the Vessel of God.” The Egyptians used the word “Qar” or “Kar” too, which to them meant “drinking pot”, and it was written as the Greek “Omega” symbol, only in an inverted form. Since “Omega” signifies “the end”, and is obviously based upon this far older symbol, the implication seems clear. “Omega” (“the end”) is equated with an overturned drinking pot, specifically, God’s drinking pot. Is this not symbolic of the Deluge? We should note that the Greek symbol for “Alpha”, “the beginning”, resembles a

mountain or pyramid. If Omega is the Flood, could not this symbolic mountain be thought of as representing the Mount of Refuge upon which the Ark landed after the Flood, and from which a new beginning for mankind, an “Alpha”, was born. If so, then “Alpha” and “Omega”, the beginning and the end, could be used as code for the concepts of the Flood and the Mount of Refuge. Also, because of its connection to “Kharsag”, there also seems to be a relationship between this “Alpha and Omega” concept and the Garden of Eden, the location of the original “Alpha”, the genesis of man. All of this brings to mind the tableau in Rennes-le-Chateau in which Christ is identified as the Alpha, and John the Baptist as the Omega. Observers have always commented that the Alpha and Omega presented here were out of sequence chronologically. Since the Baptist prepared the way for the Christ, would not he be the beginning, the Alpha? It makes no apparent sense. Perhaps the meaning is simpler than suspected. Perhaps what is being said is that the Alpha and Omega were one and the same: that the end (the Flood) brought forth a new beginning (the post-diluvian epoch). Such a thesis could explain the water imagery and rites of baptism associated with John. The ritual immersion in water, a symbolic death and rebirth, may be a ceremonialized memory of the Flood as both an end and a beginning, as well as a global baptism - a cleansing of the Earth. The baptism of Christ marked the true beginning of His ministry, and a kind of passing of a dynastic legacy from the older generation (John) to the younger (Jesus). Could this pivotal episode of the New Testament represent a retelling of how both a legacy and a bloodline were passed from one generation to another, from an antediluvian generation to a postdiluvian generation? 3

As we examine the evidence behind these hypotheses in the following chapters, we shall see that all signs point to “yes.”

Megalithic structures are called “cyclopean” today because many of them were said by the ancients to have been built by these giants.

1

This is significant, considering that the Sumerian kings that provided the basis for The Book of Enoch’s Watchers were called “the Lords of the Watery Abyss.” 2

In Rennes-le-Chateau, the image of John baptizing Christ seems to be specifically connected to the image of the Flood as a vessel being emptied. In this portrayal, John baptizes him by pouring a seashell full of water onto him. 3

The Mind of God

The City of the Alpha

Our study of the origins of the Grail bloodline had lead us to a race of ancient mythical god-kings, of which nearly identical descriptions can be found in the records of cultures spanning a wide spectrum of times and locales. These godkings were portrayed in Judeo-Christian lore as the fallen angels and “Sons of God” of the Bible, or the “Watchers” of The Book of Enoch, and were personified by one figure in particular: Cain. We also discovered that these godkings were equivalent to the kings of Atlantis described by Plato. It appeared that this mysterious “Atlantis” may have been the original home of this seafaring, civilizing race. We also learned about some of the incredible feats of construction attributed to these god-kings in legend. Time and again in the course of our research we have encountered tales connecting them to the construction of man-made mountains and islands; and often, in relation to these, subterranean cities. We had been lead by clues, rather strangely, to investigate the myths associated with the “Hollow Earth” theory – myths of the underground empire of Agartha, ruled by the “Lord of the Earth”, and lit by a “Black Sun” located in the Earth’s center. We were convinced that there was a direct connection between the legendary subterranean kingdoms of ancient mythology and the Grail saga, but we weren’t at first able to find too many direct connections to the Rennes- le Chateau story - just lots and lots of tantalizing clues hinting at it. We knew, for instance, that the area is covered with numerous underground tunnels, and many believe that at least one of these tunnels leads to Sauniere’s mysterious treasure. We also knew that Rennes-le-Chateau was considered a sort of metaphysical gateway between Heaven and Hell, the “House of God and Gateway to Heaven”, as Sauniere, quoting from the Bible, described it. The entire mystery, and the surrounding area, are steeped with legends of the Devil, and therefore of the Underworld. And we knew that Otto Rahn, a Nazi SS employee, had been sent to the Cathar fortress of Montsegur in Southern France to look for the Grail stone in the caves of the mountain, which, he believed, lead to an underground temple in which the relic was housed. We had even read a reference to the Black Sun as a “Merovingian symbol.” Why, then, had their been no mention of these subjects in Holy Blood, Holy Grail or The Messianic Legacy? If the subjects of Atlantis and Agartha related to the mystery of the Grail, or that of Rennes-le-Chateau, would not the Priory of Sion have at least hinted at it somewhere along the line? The answer to this question came when we discovered, on the website, of M. Paul Smith , his excellent translations of the articles that appeared in Vaincre, the wartime journal published by the Order of Alpha Galates and edited by their Grand Master, Pierre Plantard, supposedly before he joined the Priory of Sion. However, as we’ve said, it is apparent that the Priory and Alpha Galates were 1

one and the same. Vaincre, therefore, is a Priory document. And what these articles said confirmed our suspicions beyond our wildest imaginings. Alpha Galates, as revealed by Vaincre, obviously believes in Atlantis, and in the Atlantean originn of the French race. In fact, Alpha Galates claims to be perpetuating the Atlantean tradition, which was also practiced, they say, by the Druids. In an article by “Le Comte de Moncharville” entitled The East and the West, it is written that:

“...France,

through Brittany, was also familiar with the Atlantean tradition, of which the Druidic cult (with its sacrifices to the Sun, the ceremony of mistletoe, menhirs and dolmens, and institutions of chivalry) is merely the survival. ... When Catholicism chased the Druids out of Gaul, some of the monks collected together the Atlantean traditions and formed the Alpha, which then split into two branches: the Cistercians, who adopted Christianity, and the Chivalric Order of Galate, which preserved the Atlantean tradition.”

De Monarchville’s assertions match those expressed in a book called Preadamites, cited by Ignatius Donnelly’s Atlantis: The Antediluvian World (although the author of the book is nowhere mentioned.) The passage cited reads:

“The

Gauls possessed traditions upon the subject of Atlantis which were collected by the Roman historian Timagenes, who lived in the first century before Christ. He represents that three distinct people dwelt in Gaul: 1. The indigenous population, which I suppose to be Mongoloids, who had long dwelt in Europe; 2. The invaders from a distant island, which I understand to be Atlantis; 3. The Aryan Gaul.” 2

Another article from Vaincre, entitled The ‘Southern Cross’ - Rallying Point for the Pure of Heart, by Auguste Brisieux, connects Atlantis directly to France, specifically the province of Brittany, and describes in fantastic terms Atlantean civilization, as well as its downfall. It states:

“Lemuria, a small country situated on the ancient continent on Atlantis, of roughly the same size as our Brittany, and which is now no more than the vestige of a thousand years of history, rich in spiritual, moral and intellectual glory, of which the Southern Cross was the national emblem, appears to us today to be shrouded in mystery, a mystery that many legends have helped preserve. In reality, however, this was the Land of Initiates, and whereas we ourselves are still in our infancy the Lemurians already knew about the power of

the waves, the laws of the Cosmos and karmic cycles - they knew both how to govern and how to obey... This great continent collapsed into materialism, fell prey to the dark forces, rejected the rule of law, destroyed its temples and[its people] massacred in large numbers, although those who survived succeeded in establishing themselves on our present continent, in our Brittany. But for men, as for nations, the law of karma exists - Atlantis, submerged beneath the putrefying flames, suffered the penalty for its sins. However, the Southern Cross, a constellation of the Southern Hemisphere... remained the happy insignia of the great initiates of the West.”

The symbol of the octopus, which appears on the Blanchefort tombstone and also within the pages of the Priory of Sion’s Secret Dossiers, is another symbol of Atlantis, it seems. It can be found at the end of an article about the Heiron du Val d’Or (translated in Appendix C of this book), and is actually lifted from a book by Paul le Cour called The Age of Aquarius. The article is dated June 24th, 1926, which is the same date upon which the French Magazine Atlantis was founded - a magazine edited by Le Cour, which, it is said, the Priory of Sion published. In The Age of Aquarius, the octopus is referred to as “a symbol of the primitive tradition.” By “primitive”, they probably just mean “original” or “primordial”, for they saw the Atlantean tradition as the most pure. In one of the issues of Vaincre, a quote from Paul Le Cour is included which states: “...When a stream is polluted it is necesary, if you are to find pure water, to go back to the source. It’s the same with tradition - it only remains pure at its origin.” This “stream” of tradition, as you’ll recall, has been named by the Priory of Sion and the Grail families “the underground stream.” And it is underground where the publishers of Vaincre see the remains of the Atlantean tradition, preserved in subterranean cities populated by an advanced race. In The East and the West, by Le Comte de Moncharville, is a most astounding passage:

“During the mission to Tibet I succeeded in making contact - while I was in Lhasa, in the Forbidden City of Agartha, which is the seat of the Government of the Living Buddha, the ‘Dalai Lama’ - with several monks of the great monastery there. During the several years that my mission to Lhasa lasted I managed to win the confidence and friendship of them all, and I learned what probably no other initiate of the West has ever known, compared to which the famous Secret Doctrine of H.P. Blavatsky seem only a fragment of the truth. When I was on the point of leaving, the monks led me along seemingly interminable staircases carved into the mountain into a veritable underground town located underneath the temples. And there they gave me a glimpse of the collection of objects that had been brought from Atlantis before the catastrophe there. Then I visited the Sanctuary of the Dragon, where, for the first time since the Orient, I attended a ceremony of a Superior Rite, and finally, during my last few days there, I had the opportunity to contemplate electrical machines of a kind unknown today, which had been brought from Atlantis and which made it possible to impart to the subterranean rooms a light and atmosphere that was

exactly the same as that of the open air, which had so surprised me during my first visit to the heart of the mountain. These machines were also used by the ‘Dalai Lama’ to erect around the Forbidden City of Agartha magnetic barriers that prevented undesirable strangers from penetrating therein.”

This underground structure, according to Moncharville, was constructed by “Galatean knights”, precursors of the Knights Templar who were the preservers of the Atlantian tradition, and the originators of chivalry. He writes:

“...they worked the But-Or (‘the Gold Mines’) and constructed below-ground the city of the Alpha, the biggest city in the world, and completed ... the Sanctuary of the Dragon on one of the Mounts of the Dragon. Then, in the year 812, they suddenly disappeared. Some days later, amid a rumble of thunder, the sea covered the places where the last Atlanteans had lived. From this time onward, only one of the Mounts of the Dragon, towering above the waves, remained to provide evidence, through the existence of its sanctuary, of the activities of the Galatean knights.”

Moncharville reveals the location of the Sanctuary to be, once again, the French province of Brittany, and the “Mounts of the Dragon” are actually located on the site currently known as Mount St. Michel (where St. Michael supposedly defeated the infamous Dragon.) Coincidentally, we had already been researching Mt. St. Michel in connection to the Grail mystery years before ever learning of this text. What initially drew our attention there were the assertions made by some that Mt. St. Michel is one of a series of purportedly man-made mountains which form what is called “the St. Michael line”: a series of sacred sites (all named after St. Michael) that stretch from Israel to Britain, forming a line across the map of Europe. They are situated in Jerusalem, Greece, Brittany and Cornwall. Those in England and France are placed far enough off the coast that they constitute islands. Folklore in the south of England states that St. Michael’s Mount was an island actually built in ancient times by giants. According to the Priory of Sion’s Dossiers Secrets, Mont. St. Michel in Brittany once served as one of their commandaries. If the Priory’s own claims are to be taken seriously, that means that their own Grand Masters held court inside a subterranean temple built beneath an apparently man-made mountain. Monarchville continues his amazing description of this underground temple: 3

“The

Sanctuary of the Dragon was not abandoned - a new monastery was constructed on its site. And so, beneath the crypt located underneath the flagstone of the Galatean Knights a crypt more ancient still, dating from this period, gives access to the old Sanctuary. It was through the Sancutary of the Dragon that the first knights passed to meet with the subterranean dwellers, who lead them to the heart of the Breton crypts 379 meters down, in the City of

the Alpha, where the Temple of Aga was located. Is this still the only entrance to the City of the Alpha? No, but it is very certainly the oldest.”

When we first read the above-quoted passages, we were absolutely astounded. For whatever readon, Baigent, et.al. had chosen to ignore this information completely. But now we had corroboration directly from the publications of the Priory of Sion that they believed in underground cities like Agartha, the fabled city located in the center of the Earth, which they maintained was built by Atlanteans, and that the oldest entrance to this vast underworld was located in France. This passageway was thought to reach to the center of the Earth, and not just far underground, as indicated by a line from Monarchville’s article which reads: 4

“Finally, in the Round Table, my guide pointed something out to me. I immediately approached it, as I had racognized the small round altar of Lhasa, but here there were some voices that I had already heard, nonetheless muffled, as if they came from the center of the earth.”

So then, we thought, if such a thing exists in Brittany, many miles to the North and on the other side of France, why could there not be something similar at Rennes-le-Chateau? From the above-quoted passages, one line in particular struck us as odd: “And so, beneath the crypt located underneath the flagstone of the Galatean Knights a crypt more ancient still, dating from this period, gives access to the old Sanctuary.” For in the Church of St. Magdalene in Rennes-leChateau, it was underneath “The Knight’s Flagstone” that Sauniere discovered, soon after finding the parchments, an underground crypt, as well as, perhaps, something more. He was extremely secretive about it, and would not allow the workmen who helped him lift the stone to see what was underneath it. It is believed that the “Knight’s Flagstone” depicts Templar Knights because two of them are seen seated on the same horse, an earmark of the Templars. But the flagstone is badly damaged, and the knights are very crudely depicted anyway, making it unclear exactly what sort of people they are. Perhaps the “Knight’s Flagstone” was placed there as a clue, mimicking the flagstone of the Galatean knights in Brittany. Perhaps, like its Breton cousin, it conceals an entrance to a subterranean city. And perhaps, like in Brittany, there are man-made mountains above ground which mark its location. To pursue this angle, we would have to examine the sacred geometry encoded into the landscape of Rennes-leChateau.

A Pentacle of Mountains

The sunrise at Rennes-le-Chateau has to be seen to be believed. The first visible rays of the sunlight fall directly upon the village, and nowhere else. One moment the entire landscape is cloaked in darkness, and the next minute the village begins to glow eerily. Gradually, the glow becomes increasingly intense, until the village appears as a golden beacon shining in the midst of a predawn world of shadow and low-laying fog. For a few brief moments, Rennes-leChateau looks not like some small village in the south of France, but rather like some mythical kingdom. In those few moments, it seems difficult to believe that Rennes-le-Chateau wasn’t built in this precise spot as part of some conscious design. And in fact, one of the prevailing rumors about this place is that it was. Among the prevailing beliefs about this unusual village is its location has, since ancient times, been thought sacred for some reason. The village is placed atop one of five mountain peaks which form a perfect pentagram. Henry Lincoln has theorized that the existence of this “natural pentagram” is itself what has lead to the perception that the area was somehow holy, and that the five-pointed star (which recurs repeatedly in this mystery) was a sacred symbol to those who came here in ancient times. Assuming this to be the case, it is easy to see why these ancient men would have been in awe of this place. But the odds against such a formation occurring naturally are so mind-bogglingly astronomical that its very existence seems to constitute something beyond the bounds of mere coincidence. One is tempted to see this as the hand of God directly at work. 5

Consider this: the formation of such a pentagram, it requires five overlapping angles (or triangles), each measuring 36° at their apex. For each such triangle, you need to have three mountaintops forming a figure whose precise measurements are 36 °by 72° by 72 .°We imagine that someone surveying a map could easily find examples of triangles with such measurements scattered about. But to form a perfectly symmetrical pentagram requires five such triangles, all sharing identical measurements, and each sharing exactly the same placement in relation to one another. With each step of this equation, the overwhelming pattern of coincidences seems to be compounded exponentially. And too, at any point in this escalating spiral of coincidences, if even a single element of this equation failed to fit the prevailing pattern, the pentagram thus formed would not have materialized. To this mindnumbing accumulation of coincidences we add one more. Authors Colin Wilson and Rand Flem-Ath have recently asserted that the pentagram at Rennes-le-Chateau points to the North Pole. Can this astounding fact be merely another coincidence - another interesting bit of happenstance to be added to the extensive lists of happy accidents thus catalogued? Are we indeed seeing the hand of God at work, or perhaps the hand of man? What is most interesting about the authors’ observation concerning the Rennes-le-Chateau pentagram is that, according to them, the pentagram points to the North Pole not as it exists today, but to the very location it occupied 10,000 years ago.

Wilson and Flem-Ath arrive at that date based upon geological evidence. They claim that the Earth’s axis can be shown to have shifted twice, each time resulting in a global cataclysm (such as the biblical Flood or the destruction of Atlantis.) Proof of this, he says, can be seen in the detailed examination of ancient lava flows. In brief, there exists in molten lava a metallic element, which, when examined on a microscopic level, gives an incidation of polar North (just as does the needle on a compass). Lava flows dated before 10,000 years ago indicate that the placement of the North Pole was once near Hudson Bay. And it is toward this position that the Rennes-le-Chateau pentagram points. This indicates to us that the seemingly “natural” pentagram formed by the landscape may not be natural at all; that beneath the mountains forming the symbol may be massive monuments - a series of ziggurats left behind by a race that lived there over one ten millenia in the past. Though the mere suggestion of such an idea seems an utter flight of fancy, there are documented cases in fairly recent times that prove such a theory is not outrageous at all. For instance, the following account: A Spainish monk traveling in Mesoamerica once took note of what he thought was a strangelooking mountain. It seemed to possess an order and symmetry that gave it an altogether unnatural appearance. Despite its enormity, the monk could not shake the feeling that the mountain appeared to be man-made. Familiar with the structure of certain stepped pyramids in the area, the man developed a theory that this mountain concealed some sort of ancient structure which, over the years, had become covered with earth. His idea was met with derision, because no local traditions indicated that anything but a moutain had ever stood on that spot. It had been a mountain for thousands of years. Not one to be so easily dissuaded, the monk began excavations of the site. After digging through twenty-six feet of dirt, he found that there was indeed a structure of some sort within the mountain. Further excavation revealed that it was, in fact, a stepped pyramid. In light of this, we pose a simple question: Could not the mysterious pentagonal mountains of Rennes-le-Chateau conceal similar structures of some sort, equally massive and perhaps even more ancient? And if not, why not? The surface of the entire planet is strewn with countless examples of gigantic structures whose constructions defy explanation, and whose antiquity cannot be satisfactorily fixed or explained. If we could not physically see the pyramids of Egypt, and they existed only in legends or historical accounts, not a single soul alive today would concede the possibility that in ancient times anyone could have constructed monuments consisting of two and a half million gigantic blocks, each weighing many, many tons. If such structures have existed in plain sight alongside mankind for thousands of years, could not similar monuments of even greater antiquity lie hidden, like the one discovered by the Spanish monk? Structures long predating the pyramids might naturally become obscured by the passage of time, especially considering that they may have fallen victim to a global cataclysm or two, like a flood or an ice age. Even the Sphynx, so well known to everyone, was for centuries completely buried in desert sands. 6

We submit that the idea of a pentagonal series of ziggurats buried beneath the mountains of Rennes-le-Chateau is actually an altogether straight-forward hypothesis, given what we know of sacred sites and the people who created them. Virtually all such sites reveal the use of astronomy and show extensive knowledge of geometry by their builders - especially Pythagorean geometry. The pentagram is perhaps the quintessential emblem of the secret Gnosis associated with Pythagoras, and this Gnosis was said to have been passed down from a forgotten antediluvian race. If someone indeed built a series of holy mountains in the shape of a pentagram at Rennes-le-Chateau, such people can perhaps only be described as a forgotten antediluvian race. The notion that the pentagonal aspect of the landscape was created, rather than stumbled upon, by a race to whom the symbol was already sacred makes sense for that very reason. These people revered this symbol for very specific reasons, because it embodied secrets and principles central to their world-view. The odds of them creating monuments to reflect these secrets and principles seems a far more likely possibility, rather than them just happening to discover a series of hilltops that correspond to such principles in so exacting a way as to defy all odds. And too, the premise corresponds to existing models with which we are already familiar. Of course, it need not be stressed that all of this is purely theoretical. Like so many aspects of the Rennes-le-Chateau mystery, one can only present a series of hypothetical possibilities. But that said, much of the accepted mythology surrounding the story is still relatively speculative. Many of the key tenets of the myth, owing to their antiquity, would be as impossible to disprove as to prove. Consequently, the most useful criteria to apply to many such theories is based on their inner logic, and the extent to which they conform to the existing facts known about the mystery. As we have stated, the pentagram is an element that crops up in a number of different aspects of this mystery. This is one of the primary reasons for our suspicion that the symbolism contained in the very landscape could have been a result of a conscious design, and not mere accident. Consequently, a brief overview of the symbol and its central role in relation to the Grail saga is in order. That the people associated with the bloodline of the Grail knew about the placement of the pentagram in the landscape is hard to argue, although Henry Lincoln seems to think he may have been the first to discover it since ancient times, and that the Priory of Sion might have been ignorant of it until he pointed it out to them. But if the Priory was in any way a legitimate continuation of the same tradition which the Templars shared, then it seems unlikely that they would not have known. After all, the Templars constructed cathedrals across the face of Europe whose precise placements replicated the same pattern, sometimes on exactly the same scale. In addition, numerous figures linked to the Priory of Sion produced paintings into which the pentagram was secretly encoded, such as Jean Cocteau and Rene d’Anjou (both purported Grand Masters of the Priory in their time.) And Lincoln was lead to the discovery of the pentagram of mountains by another painting, Nicolas Poussin’s The Shepherds of Arcadia, which also bore an

encoded pentagram. Furthermore, the pentagam is encoded in the painting of Mary Magdalen featured on the altar of Sauniere’s church. And the church had at one time a weather vane bearing the symbol. At nearby Montsegur is the citadel of the Cathars, so often associated with the Grail. The place was called “the lighthouse of Catharism”, and at the time of the Albigensian crusade were are told that the structure of the fortress was in the shape of a pentagram. We could go on at length cataloguing other such examples which indicate the relationship between the five-pointed star and the Grail. The examples are numerous, and all reinforce the same pattern already demonstrated. So we shall proceed to the next logical phase of inquiry: Why was this symbol so important to them? 7

Explanations offered range from the absurdly simpistic to the sublimely lofty. At the most simple level, some people maintain that the Grail bloodline came from the stars, and therefore they adopted the five-pointed star as an emblem of their origins. Others maintain that Venus, “the Morning Star”, is sacred to the Grail family, and that the pentagram represents her, since the planet’s position in relation to the Earth forms a pentagram as it moves through its orbit - the only planet whose orbit creates a symmetrical geometric shape. Both explanations are interesting, but not altogether satisfactory. The Pythagorean explanation comes closer perhaps, derived from the pentagram’s relationship with a measurement considered magical to the ancients: the golden section. Also known as “the Phi ratio”, the golden section is formed when a given length is divided into two portions, so that the first portion’s relationship to the second mittors te second portion’s relationship to the whole. Each line of the pentagram is defined by the Phi ratio, also known as the Fibonacci sequence, the basic growth pattern of nature. Expressed in whole numbers the sequence begins with 0 and 1, mimicking the creation of the universe, in which the whole of existence emerged as the undivided monad out of the unmanifested void. Then, another 1 is added, making 2, the next stage in the creation of the universe, in which the undivided monad split into the duality of two opposing aspects (such as light and dark, male and female). From there, the sequence continues, adding the next number to the previous number in the sequence to create the one following. 2+1 = 3, 3+2 = 5, 5+3 = 8, and 8+5 = 13. Thus the sequence goes: 0,1,1,2,3,5,8,13... This sequence could go on and on indefinitely. When the numbers are divided by one another to form ratios (1/1, 2/1, 3/2, 5/3, 8/5, 13/8), the results, graphed on an x/y axis, form an undulating wave that starts out large and flattens out at an exponential rate towards an asymptote (a place approached but never reached) of 1.6180339…, with an endless series of decimals at the end. In what’s known as a “golden rectangle”, this ratio can be expressed by dividing the rectangle into one-third and two-thirds sections. Then you construct a larger golden rectangle around that, with the first golden rectangle constituting the smaller, one-third section of the larger golden triangle. Keep doing this for several steps. The whole of each rectangle, when divided by the larger, twothirds section, will always equal the same ratio as the large part divided by the small part. After you have constructed a series of golden rectangles within golden rectangles, draw a line curving from the inside bottom corner of the 8

larger section of the first rectangle to the upper left-hand corner of that box, then continue that through the larger section of the second rectangle, then the third rectangle, and on and on. This curved line will quickly develop into what is known as the Fibonacci spiral. As we have explained, the Fibonacci sequence of numbers represent the growth pattern of all living things in nature: the growth pattern of the embryo as it becomes a fetus, then a baby, then a child, then an adult, and of a seed that becomes a seedling, then a plant. The horns of a ram, the spiraling bracts of a pine cone, the whirlpools in the ocean and the storms in the sky also contain this pattern. The golden spiral, sequence and ratio can be found in the visual color spectrum, and in the thirteen-note musical scale. The vibration of each note is the sum of the vibrations of the two notes previous. The structure of a piano keyboard reflects this, with eight white keys, representing whole tones, and five black keys, representing sharps and flats, arranged in groups of threes and two, for a total of thirteen notes in a full octave. This contains the Fibonacci sequence of 2, 3, 5, 8, and 13. The most pleasing pieces of music are those which take full advantage of the Fibonacci relationship, striking a familiar cord with the Fibonacci spiral shape of our own ears, while music that sounds “off” does exactly the opposite. The syntax of words in poetry, in which some combinations of words are more pleasing than others, undoubtedly follows the same principles. The few people who comment upon the notion of the golden section refrain from saying why exactly it was seen as being so inherently magical to the ancients. But perhaps the retisence occurs simply because the idea that it embodies is difficult to convey in words alone. On the most basic level, the golden portion represents the principle of divine harmony, albeit presented in mathematical terminology. And, as applied to the pentagram, this principle becomes a kind of geometric expression of the principles which govern the universe, while containing within itself both a pattern on one scale, and the implicit suggestion of the identical pattern on a larger scale. This pattern could be reproduced infinitely in either direction (reduced or enlarged), and would still retain the same intrinsic character. While this idea is fairly abstract, its ramifications extend beyond the merely philosophical to principles which can be harnessed and applied in the real world. We know that one of the ways people in the past tried to harness the power of the pentagram was through the use of ritual magic. It was believed that a person standing in the center of a large pentagram could channel its energy so as to alter the world in accordance with their will. We could probably discuss at length whether or not the pentagram itself actually possessed inherent power that could be tapped into, but that is not germaine to the subject at hand. If the traditional use of the pentagram in the realm of the occult was its intended function at Rennes-le-Chateau, we may be faced with one of the world’s largest “ritual chambers” in the form of the area’s five-pointed peaks. For as long as anyone can remember, Rennes-le-Chateau has been considered a sacred place. Well before the birth of Berenger Sauniere, and even before the advent of the Templars, this place was seen as holy. If our hypotheses are

correct, this longstanding reputation could be far more ancient than anyone has yet speculated. Whatever Sauniere found at Rennes-le-Chateau made him believe that the town would one day become the center of world religion: the new Zion. Could it be possible that this same place was in fact at one time the center of world religion. Rennes-le-Chateau has long been seen as a place where the secrets of the past dwell, waiting to be uncovered. And perhaps there is a good deal more waiting to be uncovered than first meets the eye. If we are correct, Rennes-le-Chateau may constitute proof that a civilization 10,000 years old was conversant with the Pythagorean notion of sacred geometry that we currently trace back no later than 600 AD. The idea that the Pythagoreans merely preserved the secret wisdom of the ancients could be something more than mere myth or legend. And the seeming progress or evolution of mankind may instead constitute devolution: a descent from a Golden Age into a wasteland. Indeed, the further we delved into this notion, the likely this idea seemed to become.

The Holy Land and the Gate of God

Initially, the thought that Rennes-le-Chateau was a “new Jerusalem” or “new Zion” seemed altogether far-fetched. What could have prompted Berenger Sauniere to view his modest country village in such grandiose terms? Our search for possible answers to that question would prove to be lengthy, and would yield wildly unexpected results. After months of testing various theories, we still had only speculation. Then one day, while examining a twelth century map of Jerusalem, the answer simply appeared to us. We noted what seemed to be an uncanny similarity between the geometric layout of the holy city and that of Sauniere’s domain at Rennes-le-Chateau. To be sure, the similarities weren’t precisely identical, but were so incredibly close in their general outlines that any casual observer would certainly take note of them. It appeared that the layout of Rennes-le-Chateau was patterned after that of the Holy Land. The most striking aspect of the similarities between the two was the placement of Sauniere’s church: it occupied the same point on the map as did the Temple of Solomon. Could Sauniere have believed that he was, on a purely symbolic level, rebuilding the Temple of Solomon? Before we could even begin to speculate on what this might mean, much more research was necessary. We needed to examine more maps of both locales, from various periods in history. But we found one more startling detail in the twelth century map of Jerusalem that lead us to believe we were on the right track: the existence of what appears to be a gigantic pentagram superimposed over the city. Going with the assumption that these two places (Rennes-leChateau and Jerusalem) were intended to mirror one another, we naturally searched for any signs of pentagonal geometry evident in the Jerusalem map, and almost instantaneously it was found. It appeared in the shape of two roads situated towards the top of the map which formed an inverted “V” shape. Using

a ruler, we extended the line indicated by one of the roads, and it eventually intersected with an ediface called “The Zion Gate.” Extending the line intended by the adjoining road the same distance resulted in the shape of the well-known figure central to the formation of a pentagram: the golden triangle. That the Zion gate forms one point of the Jerusalem pentagram seems especially significant, for gates are a potent symbol, and one which has gone unnoticed by most researchers of the Rennes-le-Chateau mystery. The quote that Sauniere chose to inscribe above the entrance to his church proclaims that it is the “Gateway to Heaven”, and amongst the most prominent symbols employed at his domain, albeit perhaps the most subtle, are the many odd gates. There are gates made of coral, and gates decorated with deathheads, Templar crosses, hourglasses with demonic wings, etc. Asmodeus stands just inside the entry of the church, yet another gateway bedecked with odd imagery. As we have noted elsewhere, the full text of the inscription above the church entry relates to Jacob’s proclamation, upon awakening from his strange dream of the ladder, that “This is the House of God and the Gateway to Heaven.” As it happens, this is the exact translation of the place-name “Babylon.” The empire ruled by that city was at one time the very center of the ancient world, and following the Sumerian epoch, it dominated the stage of world history for nearly two millenia starting around 2000 BC. The city of Babylon itself was dominated by the Tower of Babel, now known by scholars to have been a massive, sevenstepped ziggurat, and not the round spiraling structure depicted in medieval religious paintings. Its foundation still exists and can be plainly seen in aerial photographs of the region. Given the pentagonal geometry evident in the Holy Land, and the ancient nature of this symbolism, we wondered whether or not similar indications could be found in a map of Babylon. Almost immediately, we were able to locate a large triangular shape jutting across the very center of the map. It was defined on one side by a long boulevard named after the sun-god Shamash, which spanned the distance between the gates on either side of the city. It was defined on the other side by a road leading into the city, which in turn cut a line through key temples and points of intersection on the map. This second angle seemed to be the basis for a grid upon which the geometry of the east side of the city was oriented, and most of the key points that defined the layout of Babylon’s streets, temples and so forth could be found to conform to a series of lines parallel to it. Many readers will scoff at the notion that people in such ancient times could possibly have possessed such knowledge of (or even concern for) sacred geometry, yet mountains of evidence exist (no pun intended) which demonstrably prove that they did. All the remaining ziggurats, pyramids, and monolithic structures of the ancients reveal an incredibly advanced knowledge of both geometry and astronomy. It can be shown that the ancients indeed understood these things, and that they undoubtably had a very central importance to these people’s cultures. Because sacred geometry has been little understood, it is often dismissed as pure occultism. Yet its truly “occult” nature resides less in the realm of the

supernatural than in the more genuine, original meaning of the term: “hidden.” Sacred geometry represents a tangible manifestation of the hidden principle that both underlies and pervades all of life and nature. That principle can be seen most vividly in the golden ratio, demonstrated in such forms as the the golden rectangle, the golden triangle, the golden spiral, and the pentagram. All of these figures share the same elemental relationship to one another, and all are founded upon the same instrinsic principle - a principle that was found to embody the workings of nature so strikingly, the ancients deemed its representation to be synonymous with the fingerprint of God. Pentagonal geometry is not merely a variety of geometry based upon a principle, but rather an emanation of that principle, which can itself be found abundantly in nature. Cut open an apple crosswise, and in its center you will find seeds forming a perfect pentagram. Peel back the topmost leaves of a cabbage, and you’ll find find five leaves revealing pentagonal geomatry. Cut the same cabbage crosswise, and you’ll see a series of golden spirals contained within the growth pattern. Pentagonal geometry is one of the predominant schematics of life, including man himself. In fact the pentagram was used in Renaissance Europe as an emblem of man and the cosmos, of the microcosm and macrocosm each contained within one another. This should suffice to give at least some small indication of what the pentagram really signified to the people who used it, and why they thought it sacred. They considered it an emmanation of the mind of God, and believed that by more fully grasping the primordial principles it embodied, they could come into accord with the mind of God. The ancients must have recognized in this geometry an example of divine harmony, and sought to embody this ideal in their art, music, and architecture. The most recognizable attempt to make this notion manifest can be seen in the gothic cathedrals that began to sprout up across Europe during the twelth century. The construction of these cathedrals has been linked to the Knights Templar, and were clearly built upon principles of sacred geometry. Inside and out we see the presence of the defining golden ratio, and of the pentagram. It has even been demonstrated (by Henry Lincoln and others) that many of the cathedrals erected were placed so as to form gigantic pentagrams across the face of the landscape, sometimes miles long. Some of them even link up to, or overlap with, the pentagram at Rennes-le-Chateau. This demonstreates that the creators of the cathedrals may have not only have known of the existence of the Rennes-le-Chateau configuration, but were consciously trying to replicate it. The cathedrals were (and many still are) spectacular. They were like nothing ever seen before in Europe, and were built on a scale never before attempted by Europeans. This has lead some observers to posit a rather perplexing question: Why did this stunning new form of architecture appear so suddenly in the twelth century? If people possessed the knowledge and the means to create such structures already, why had no one ever done it before? Or, if they hadn’t previously possessed the knowledge necessary to create buildings on such a grand scale, where and how did they suddenly acquire it? Remember, the Knights Templar formed at the very end of the eleventh century, as a holy militia of only nine men, whose job it was to protect pilgrims en route to the Holy Land.

A relatively short while later this same order was purportedly involved in creating giant gothic cathedrals across Europe. What is wrong with this picture? Firstly (as has often been pointed out), the notion that nine men could function as an effective militia seems difficult to believe. Even if all nine men were on active duty from dawn until sunset, seven days a week, they could only effectively police a somewhat limited area, and presumably the area of the highest risk for pilgrims would have been out on the open road, well removed from Old Jerusalem, where the Templars were stationed. While it is certainly possible that they were trying to perform the function they claimed for themselves, it doesn’t seem altogether probable. A far more fascinating and likely possibility is a theory posited by a number of Templar scholars: that the order went to Jerusalem with the express intent of recovering a sacred treasure. According to the theory, the Templars, who had been headquartered in the stables next to the site of Solomon’s Temple, spent their time secretly excavating beneath the Temple Mount. There are legends of secret chambers and underground labyrinths beneath Solomon’s Temple - legends that may have already been ancient at that time, and many of which have already been borne out by archeology. It is assumed that they in fact did discover some such hidden chamber, and that it indeed contained a treasure of some sort, because in a relatively short time, the order’s wealth increased enormously. Though many agree that they must have found something, the nature of the treasure has been disputed. Some theorize that it could have been a holy relic, such as the Ark of the Covenant. Others, that it was a king’s ransom in gold. Some say that it was simply a secret of monumental importance. Such assertions, exciting as they might be are (of course) pure speculation. Yet it remains likely that they did go looking for something specific, and that they found it. In fact, they may have possessed insider knowldege of exactly what lay hidden there. Remember, the founders of the Knights Templar are reputed to have been direct descendants of King Solomon. And as we know, Godfroi de Bouillon, cofounder of the Templars and the Order of Sion, would later become the effective king of Jerusalem himself. Assuming that some secret legacy belonging to the Grail bloodline actually lay hidden beneath the Temple Mount, what figure might constitute a more likely inheritor of that secret than Godfroi de Bouillon? He could have known both the location of the treasure, and something specific of its nature. He could have concocted the whole scenario about protecting pilgrims to the Holy Land as a cover story. (As we discussed previously, the same families were involved in instigating the Crusades to capture the Holy Land in the first place, and may have had the same ulterior motive.) These secrets had been passed down from generation to generation, in expectation of the day in which some of these descendants would be in the right position to reclaim it. This is precisely where de Boullion found himself at the end of the eleventh century.

The Original Master Mason

One of the occult legends of Freemasonry states that the first Master Masons were King Solomon, Hiram of Tyre, and Hiram Abiff, and that they used a secret knowledge of geometry to construct the wondrous Temple of Solomon. According to this legend, Hiram Abiff was killed for not revealing this secret, the knowledge of which ultimately ended up with the Masons. Remember, the Masons are widely believed to be the inheritors of the secret doctrine of the Knights Templar. Could part of what the Templars sought in Jerusalem be that same secret knowledge which Hiram Abiff supposedly took his grave with him? If so, it would explain a lot. Keep in mind that it was shortly after the Templar excursion to Jerusalem that gothic cathedrals began to appear across Europe buildings the likes of which had never been seen, and which completely embodied the ideals of sacred geometry. If the secrets of Hiram Abiff were indeed part of what the Templars found beneath the Temple Mount, it would explain why Hiram assumes such a prominent role in the lore of Masonry, and why the Temple of Solomon plays such a central part in the symbolism of both the Templars and the Masons. In an alternate version of Masonic legend, it is said that King Nimrod, the architect of the Tower of Babel, was the first Master Mason. Albert Mackey’s 1898 book The History of Freemasonry tells us that Nimrod “was distinguished for his architectural works”, and that it was he who first organized stonebuilders, giving them laws and a constitution. Mackey also say that “modern discoveries of the cuneiform inscriptions show that Masonic legendists had... obtained a far more correct idea of the true character of Nimrod than that which had hitherto been entertained, founded on the brief allusion to him in Genesis and the disparaging account of him in the Antiquities of Josephus.” According to the source Mackey is citing, “Masonry... was founded in Babylon, from whence it spread to the rest of the world.” Such an assertion might seem utterly outrageous, were it not for the overwhelming body of evidence demonstrating that the Babylonians did indeed possess an advanced knowledge of geometry. It can be seen in the pentagram we discovered in the map of Babylon, a configuration difining a series of grids according to which the entire landscape of the city was constructed. At the dead center of the pentagram sits what was the city’s holiest sanctuary: the Temple of Marduk. Babylonian stellae have been discovered that are clearly constructed according to the principles of the golden ratio. A nearby tower, once mistaken for the Tower of Babel, was clearly meant to be a three-dimensional model of a golden spiral. Babylonians also demonstrated an advanced understanding of mathematics, as evidenced by their possession of the “Ninevah number”, to be discussed in the following chapter. The idea that Nimrod may have been the first Master Mason finds support in the chronicles of the Sumerian king upon whom the Biblical figure is based. As mentioned previously, his Sumerian title was “Nimirrud”, and he was the second Sumerian deified king. He is documented as a builder of great cities, having

constructed Mesopotamia’s first city, Erech, as well as many other well-known cities from the ancient world. We have already alluded to the fact that “Nimirrud” was merely a royal title, meaning, according to L.A. Waddell, “Lord of the Tree of Life.” His story becomes far more interesting when we learn that his real name was “Kan”, and that he is widely believed to be synonymous with the biblical Cain. Evidence in support of this notion is both abundant and convincing. The city of Erech has been said to have been called after Nimurrud’s son of the same name. What’s more, it is universally acknowledged to be synonymous with the biblical city of Enoch, built by Cain and named after his son. In Ginzberg’s Legends of the Jews, the author writes that Cain endeavored to “immortalize his name by means of monuments, and he became a builder of cities. The first of them he called “Enoch”, after his son, because it was at the birth of Enoch that he began to enjoy a measure of peace.” The text goes on to say that he also built six other cities. In legend, Nimirrud is credited with inventing the plough, and sculptures of the king depict him holding stalks of grain. As it so happens, in Hebrew, the name “Cain” actually means “grain.” In the Bible, Cain is expelled from Eden and is virtually never heard from again. It seems likely that the authors of the Old Testament were well aware of the Cain/Nimrod connection, and purposely contrived to misrepresent the situation so as to expunge Cain from Jewish history. Could this also be the reason that the Tower of Babel which he erected is presented as an affront to God, rather than a marvel of engineering? In Babylonian mythology, it is said that the god Marduk built the city of Erech/Enoch. Marduk is another name which is actually a title, and means “Son of the Sun.” This was a title applied to Cain many years after his death. When he no longer reigned as a deified king, he was worshipped as one of the primordial gods. Marduk is commonly depicted holding a trowel. Mythologists writing about Marduk have speculated that the trowel he is often shown holding is a representation of his association with agriculture, for he too is credited with teaching mankind the cultivation of grain. But it seems to us that the trowel he bears is in fact identical to that used by stonemasons, and used in the rituals of Freemasonry to this very day. So, is it possible that Cain was really the first Master Mason? If we believe history, he seems to have devoted his life to the building of monuments, temples and even entire cities. The famous ziggurats of Babylon are recognized to be masterpieces of engineering and sacred geometry. They can be seen as architectural models of both the cosmos and the Self - stone monuments into which may be encoded the great secerts of the universe. Such structures were not to be seen again until the age of Europe’s gothic cathedrals.

The Prophet Returns

Now that we had established for ourselves the strong relationship between the Grail bloodline and the science of sacred geometry, we began to wonder what they had done recently to demonstrate the continuation of this tradition. Nobody builds monuments like they once did anymore, and monuments were, in the past, the bloodline’s trademark way of expressing the geometry they so revered. But there is one modern figure associated with the bloodline who used his artistic talents to create his own monuments, and who saw himself as continuing the traditions of the ancients: Jean Cocteau. As we shall see, his works are imbued with the same geometric principles found at Rennes-leChateau. They also reveal, to the initiated, some of the greatest secrets of the Priory of Sion – some of which may even be among the greatest secrets of the ages.

1

http://smithpp0.tripod.com/psp/idx.html

2

We should note here that the word “Gal”, in Hebrew,means “Navigator.”

3 This particular region is well-known as a site supposedly visited by Christ and his uncle, Joseph of Ariamathea. It is also the location of the first Christian church in Britain. It stands opposite a small village with the curious name of “Marazion.”

When asked, Henry Lincoln told us that they excluded mention of these subjects because it they “[move] into the realms of pure speculation, wishful thinking and fantasy.”

4

We have spoken to Henry Lincoln about this, and he refuses to speculate on how this formation came into being, or why.

5

On our own visit to Rennes-le-Chateau, we found definite evidence that the entire area was indeed once under water. 6

7 Interestingly, the pentagram on the altar-piece is tilted somewhat and seems to reflect the same position as the pentagram of mountains when drawn on a map. 8 The “Golden mean proportion” in geometry has long been known by visual artists as that which is most aesthetically pleasing to the eye, and paintings, photographs, etc. are often purposely constructed with the most important visual element located at the 2/3 mark for this reason.

The Luciferian Legacy

“[The]

Serpent is also the wise word of Eve. This is the mystery of Eden: this is the river that flows out of Eden. This is also the mark that was set on Cain… [and] this serpent is also he who appeared in the latter days in human form at the time of Herod…” - Hippolytus

The Mark of Cain

A few years back, workers toiling in an underground chamber beneath a medieval cathedral in Geneva, Switzerland uncovered a strange mosaic tile floor, thought to be of great antiquity. The mosaic depicted an icon beloved by the Merovingians: the Black Sun. The Priory of Sion claims that one of its principle commandaries is in Geneva, and if so, this may be it. For hidden away in the cathedral’s recesses, far from public view, is one of Christendom’s strangest set of relics: a plate and cup connected to the legends of Cain, Solomon, Christ, and Lucifer. In an ancient variation on Biblical tradition, the so-called “mark of Cain” believed to have been inflicted upon Adam’s first son - is said to have been caused by a stone that fell from Lucifer’s crown during the war in Heaven and bounced off Cain‘s forehead. According to this lore, the mark was in the shape of a red serpent. The jewel from Lucifer’s crown became a sacred relic, and was handed down dynastically from father to son, eventually coming into the possession of King Solomon. He hired a master craftsman to carve the huge stone into a plate and drinking vessel. According to this same legend, these very utensils were later used by Christ at the Last Supper. This story, bizarre though it may be, is emblematic of the unambiguously Luciferian symbolism that recurs constantly in regards to lore of the Grail bloodline - symbolism that has been consciously cultivated by the Merovingians throughout their history.

The Melusine

Among the most overtly Luciferian lore relating to the Grail bloodline is the strange saga of Melusine, a woman said to be half-human and half-serpent. Her father was reputedly Godfroi de Bouillon, former King of Jerusalem (or “Defender of the Holy Sepulcher”, as he preferred to be called), and prime mover behind the formation of both the Priory of Sion and the Knights Templar. It was due to de Bouillon - a descendant of Jesus Christ, King David, and the

historical figure of Lohengrin - that the Templars adopted the Cross of Lorraine as their esoteric emblem. This symbol is known in Germany as the Cross of Lothringen, or Lohengrin (the origin of the name “Lorraine”), and was said to have been emblazoned upon Lohengrin’s shield. Godfroi was succeeded as King of Jerusalem by his brother Baldwin, who in turn was succeeded by Fulk the Black, a member of the prominent Angevin dynasty. It was Fulk who married Godfroi’s daughter, the mythical Melusine. As the story goes, upon her betrothal to Fulk, Melusine made a very unusual request. She agreed to marry him, but only upon this strange condition: that one night per week, on the Sabbath, she was to be allowed absolute solitude and privacy. On this night her husband was neither to speak to her, nor to enter her bedchambers. Fulk agreed to the bizarre codicil, and by all reports they shared a very happy union for the first several years. In time, however, Fulk’s curiosity began to get the best of him. He wondered why his lovely bride required time apart from him, and what exactly she did on those nights. Unable to resist the temptation, Fulk burst into her bedroom one of these nights, only to be confronted by a terrifying visage. His wife had transformed herself into a figure that was half-serpent. The entirety of her lower extremities took on the appearance of a massive, bluish-white colored snake. Melusine was so horrified at being discovered that she keeled over dead. It was said that her ghost (in half-serpent form) haunted the site thereafter, and could be heard late at night, slithering about behind the locked door. In a variation on this tale, Fulk was said instead to have peered through the keyhole of his wife’s chambers on one of her private nights. Inside he saw Melusine sitting in a bath, her body covered with scales from the waist down, her legs having turned into the tail of a fish. Deeply disturbed by what he had seen, Fulk was eventually compelled to question his wife. Upon learning that her trust had been violated, Melusine departed, never to be seen again. As bizarre as such tales are, many European monarchs took great pride in citing Melusine in their family trees. In fact, according to Sabine Baring-Gould’s Myths of the Middle Ages, a number of royal families altered their genealogies in order to claim descent from the “illustrious” serpent lady. Her story became wildly popular in France, Germany and Spain, and for a time was seldom out of print. In the early, happy days of Melusine’s marriage, she gave birth to a son, Geoffrey de Anjou. Geoffrey would eventually grow up to be the first Plantagenet King of England. Present at Geoffrey's birth was Bernard of Clairvaux, the famous Cistercian abbot, and yet another founding father of the Knights Templar. Upon first seeing the baby Geoffrey, Bernard made this strange pronouncement: “From the Devil he has come, and to the Devil he’ll return.” Though the Melusine saga may have been a beloved tale in parts of Europe, such was not the case everywhere. The tale seems to have been equally well-known in England, but not equally well-liked. In his book The Conquering Family, Thomas B. Costain writes:

“The counts of Anjou and their lovely but wicked wives gained such an unsavory reputation over the centuries that the people of England were appalled when they found that one of them (Geoffrey) was to become King of England.”

This notwithstanding, the House of Plantagenet provided England with some of its most noteworthy monarchs, many of whom admitted to having a soft spot in their hearts for their mythical matriarch, Melusine. Richard the Lionhearted even cited his purportedly Luciferian heritage as being the reason why his family “lacked the natural affections of mankind.” The story of Melusine had such an impact on the French psyche that to this very day in some parts of France, “Melusines” (ginger cookies shaped like a woman with serpent’s tail) are sold on May Day. The fact that so many people have seemingly taken this unusual tale at face value seems rather unfathomable to the modern mind. Stranger still, why would a family putatively descended from Christ and King David so publicly include in their family tree the figure of a woman half-human and half-serpent? It would appear that due to the highly improbable nature of this tale, it has been dismissed entirely by scholars and historians as pure folklore. Yet the members of this family (the Grail family) are no strangers to the adroit implementation of symbolism. Never has their use of symbolism been gratuitous. It is employed to reveal to the initiated precisely what it conceals from the uninitiated. And the imagery associated with Melusine is very specific in its connotations: it refers to the patriarch Adam’s first wife Lillith, who is depicted in cabalistic tradition as a naked human female with a serpent’s tail for her lower half. For us, this suggests that the Merovingians were consciously trying to keep alive an esoteric tradition - one which holds great secrets relating to the true nature of their sacred bloodline.

Lucifer’s Children

Conventional wisdom has it that the Grail bloodline is sacred because it came from Christ, a man still considered by much of the world to be the true son of God. And yet the dynasty of kings who descended from this bloodline were known as sorcerer-kings, some of whom hinted or even stated outright that they were in fact descendants of Lucifer. A number of authors claim this thesis is true, but they are predominantly hardcore Christian conspiracy theorists, and stop well short of explaining why they believe this, or of giving any tangible details to substantiate their claims. Says author Fritz Springmeier in The Bloodlines of the Illuminati: “In typical Gnostic fashion, descendants of the Merovingians claim to have the blood of both Christ and Satan in their veins.” Given the fact that this theme (or a variation of it) recurs with some regularity, and given that it would appear to be consistent with the sort of dualism which permeats the story of this bloodline, we began to wonder if there might not be

some traditions from which such a notion could have arisen. At length, several were discovered. Firstly, let us recall that this bloodline descended from a figure who equates with the biblical Cain. In certain rabbinic lore, we come across the very interesting notion that Cain was not the son of Adam, but of Samael. It was thought that when Samael appeared to Eve as a serpent, he seduced her. The fruit of that union was Cain. Samael was a fallen angel, essentially the Judaic Lucifer. If the Merovingians knew of this version of the story (which they no doubt did), and believed it, it could be the basis of their alleged assertion that they possessed the blood of both Christ and Lucifer. This notion is expressed in a famous poem by Charles Peguy, which states:

“The

arms of Jesus are the Cross of Lorraine,

Both the blood in the artery and the blood in the vein, Both the source of grace and the clear fountaine;

The arms of Satan are the Cross of Lorraine, And the same artery and the same vein, And the same blood and the troubled fountaine.”

Some apocryphal versions of the story of Cain proclaim that he was the son of Adam and Lillith, not Eve. Before becoming Adam’s first wife, Lillith had been the consort of God before coming to Earth as a fallen angel. The full details of her story are probably too well-known to bear repeating here, but it is interesting that of the two alternate traditions concerning Cain’s parentage, both involve the Luciferian Nephilim bloodline. Also of interest is the fact that the lily is known to have taken its name from Lillith, and the heraldic device emblematic of this bloodline is the fleur-de-lys (widely accepted as symbolic of the lily). Could not this symbol, viewed within this context, in fact be the Flower of Lillith? The Lillith/Samael connection is also pertinent in regards to our investigation because both Lillith and Samael are traditionally held to be the parents of the demon Asmodeus. Not only is Asmodeus the dominant image (shown mirroring Christ) in Rennes-le-Chateau, he is said to have played the central role in building the Temple of Solomon, the edifice from which the Knights Templar took their name. The recurrence of this strange figure in Grail lore has long perplexed observers, yet it would appear that both he and the descendants of Cain may in fact have shared a kindred ancestry. It is even said in some traditions that it was Asmodeus whom Moses called upon to part the Red Sea, and not God. Though portrayed as a demon or devil figure, his name reveals 1

that he may not always have been viewed as such, for “Asmodeus” translates simply to “the Lord God.” (“Ashma” means “lord”, and “deus” means “god.”) Luciferian imagery is implied the presence of “the Elohim” of The Book of Genesis, where they are quoted as saying: “Let us make man in our image.” The word “Elohim” is translated simply as “God” in the King James Bible, but it is clearly a plural noun, as plural words in the Hebrew language end in the letters “im.” In fact, “the Elohim” are widely believed by many researchers to be identical with the Nephilim, the fallen angels known as the Watchers in The Book of Enoch. It is believed that “Elohim” comes from the much more ancient Babylonian word, “Ellu”, which means “Shining Ones.” This phrase has a distinctively Luciferian connotation, because the name “Lucifer” literally means “lightbearer.” And the descendants of Cain, who were the deified kings of Sumeria, were sometimes called “the Ari”, a term which also meant “Shining Ones.” The Sumerian pictogram for “Ari” or “Ar”, as noted earlier, is an inverted pentagram, a symbol long associated with Lucifer. And the phrase “Shining Ones” would be a very apt description for the descendants of Enoch’s fallen angels, who were said to have hair as white as snow, pale eyes, and pale skin which seemed literally to glow and fill the room with light. The Sumerian Ari are almost always depicted as wearing crowns bearing horns, and some of their descendants were reputed in legend to have had horns. For instance, the most famous statue of Moses (that of Michelangelo) depicts him with horns atop his forehead, not wholly inappropriate for someone who may be a blood relation of Asmodeus. Theologians protest that they are not horns, but merely rays of light. Yet even rays of light suggest a Luciferian subtext. Alexander the Great declared himself the son of a god, and he too was said to have horns. In fact, to this very day, if you talk to people in certain Iranian villages (who speak of his invasion as though it happened last week), they will tell you in all solemnity Alexander had horns, and that he wore his hair long to cover this up. One cannot but admit that Cain seems to have engendered his own tradition, as evidenced in a strange Gnostic sect called the Cainites (named after the race of Cain’s descendants). Like the Carpocrateans, the Cainites believed that no one could be saved except by “making the journey through everything.” Epiphanius describes them as a group “consecrating... lustful or illegal acts to various heavenly beings” as a sort of sacrament. Interestingly, many scholars compare them to Satanists. The extent to which the Merovingians knew of these alternate traditions is uncertain. Whether or not they believed in them is more uncertain still, yet it remains likely that they both knew about these traditions and took them quite seriously. To this very day, the coat of arms of the capital of the Merovingian empire, Stenay, bears an image of the Devil. In fact, the original name of Stenay was “Satanicum.” And the area Rennes-le-Chateau also contains many geographical references to the Devil. In addition to the Asmodeus statue at the church, there is an ancient stone monument in Rennes-le-Bains called “the Devil’s Armchair”, and there are hundreds of years worth of local legends pertaining to the appearance of the Devil on numerous occasions.

Seeing that this Luciferian legacy played such a prominent role in the Merovingian mythos, we wondered if traces of it could be detected in the Bible and other related texts. In short order, we were able to discern an abundance of such material. What caught our attention the most were a number of stories which seemed very suggestive of the idea that certain key patriarchs were descendants of the Watchers. Take, for example, the story of Abraham, the first proselyte ofonotheism, and a figure central in all three major monotheistic religions. His birth was, according to apochryphal traditions, foreseen in the stars by none other than King Nimrod, who felt threatened by the birth of Abraham, and effected a “slaughter of the innocents”-type scenario, in which 70,000 male children were put to death - in an effort to neutralize him. Consequently, his mother fled to the wilderness to give birth to him in a cave. As author Louis Ginzberg states in Legends of the Jews, upon Abraham’s birth, “The whole cave was filled with the light of the child’s countenance, as with the splendor of the Sun...” Compare this description with that in The Book of Enoch, where it was said that Lamech’s son Noah, “...illuminated all the house, like the Sun; the whole house abounded with light.” 2

A further indication that Abraham was of the Nephilim bloodline is that according to this version of the story, Abraham’s mother left him in that cave alone for twenty days, and upon returning, she did not even recognize him because he had “grown very big.” He was as large as a full-grown man and could both speak and walk - surely an indication of some divine supernatural ancestry. In fact, later chroniclers state unambiguously that Abraham was a giant. Like certain of his illustrious forebears, Abraham was also a great builder. Legends of the Jews tells us that:

“[Abraham] built a city for [his sons through his slave Hagar], surrounded by an iron wall, so high that the sun could not shine into the city... Also Abraham taught them the black art, wherewith they held sway over demons and spirits.”

Here we have a preeminent biblical patriarch as a practicioner of black magic, the forbidden art taught to man by the Watchers. And Abraham is not unique in this regard. Later figures such as Moses and Solomon were also said to be sorcerers. If three of the most important Old Testament figures were practicioners of the black arts, might not one reasonably conclude that an occult doctrine or tradition was perhaps central to the creed that eventually evolved into Judaism, and later Christianity? We will explore this idea (and the figure of Abraham) in greater depth later on, but first we will revisit the story of Jacob. It was the tale of Jacob’s Ladder that provided the point of departure for most of our subsequent research, and we have since discovered alternate versions of the tale in which the symbolism is much more vivid. For example, in an apocryphal book called The Ladder of Jacob, 1:1-6, we read:

“He found a place and laying his head on a stone, he slept there, for the sun had gone down. He had a dream and behold a ladder was fixed on the earth, whose top reached to heaven. And the top of the ladder was the face of a man, carved out of fire. There were 12 steps leading to the top of the ladder, and at each step leading to the top were human faces, on the right and on the left... and the face [on top was] one of fire... [and was] exceedingly terrifying...”

The ladder in Jacob’s dream could be construed as representing a direct lineal connection between God and man, or the sons of God and man - the Nephilim patrimony of the twelve tribes of Israel fathered by Jacob. The “exceedingly terrifying” face of fire at the ladder’s apex is assumed to be God, although it could certainly be deemed a Luciferian apparition as well. The notion that the ladder represents the descent of the twelve tribes seems to be borne out by the twelve steps of the ladder, one for each of Jacob’s future sons. We find support for this idea in The Legends of the Jews, which tells Jacob’s story in greater detail.:

“Jacob

took twelve stones from the altar on which his father Isaac had lain bound as sacrifice, and he said: ‘It was the purpose of God to let twelve tribes arise, but they have not been begotten by Abraham or Isaac. If now these 12 stones unite into a single one, then I shall know for a certainty that I am destined to become father of the twelve tribes.’ At this point a ... miracle came to pass; the twelve stones joined together and made one, which he put under his head, and at once it became soft and downy like a pillow... He dreamed a dream in which the course of world history was unfolded to him.”

The dream of Jacob’s Ladder is both a memory and a prophecy. It both foretells the coming of the twelve tribes, and alludes to their fallen angel lineage. In a bizarre addendum to this story, Jacob annoints the stone that served as his pillow with oil descended directly from Heaven, and then God casts the stone into “the Abyss” to serve as the cornerstone for his temple. But why would God want the cornerstone for His temple to be in the Abyss? Could it be because Jehovah’s Sumerian prototype, Ia, was known as “the Lord of the Abyss”?

The Serpent Messiah

One of the oddest symbols used frequently in reference to the Grail bloodline, and often in wildly unexpected contexts, is that of the serpent. We are all familiar with the serpent of Genesis, as the premier villian of Christian theology the Devil himself. Consequently, the serpent has come to be viewed as emblematic of evil. How then are we to explain the strange episode, found in

the Old Testament and in apocryphal Jewish legends, in which God instructs Moses to consturct a magical bronze serpent, the mere sight of which would save Israelites and bring death to their enemies? In some versions of this tale it was said that this serpent could cure men bitten by poisonous snakes. Others went so far as to say that it could actually save their souls. Biblical scholar James Kugel, commenting on the story, said this:

“The bronze serpent fashioned by Moses greatly troubled ancient interpreters. After all, a man-made object that had to power to cure snake bites if one simply looked at it - did this not smack more of magic than proper belief? What was worse, this same bronze serpent was later said to have become an object of idolotry in itself.”

The explanations arrived at by ancient interpreters are less than satisfactory. They claimed that it was not the snake which saved people, but God, and that by beholding it, they were beholding Him. But this fails to explain why a graven image was made to portray God, or why God would be symbolized as a serpent. Every conceivable aspect of this story is utterly in variance with what we know about orthodox Christianity or early Judaism. Another version of the tale, related in The Letter of Barnabas, says:

“...the Spirit, speaking to the heart of Moses, [tells him] to make a representation of the cross and of him who was to suffer upon it... Moses therefore made a graven serpent.”

This is very bizarre indeed. Not only do we have God represented as a serpent, but Christ as well. And it gets more interesting still. In the cabalistic science known as “gematria” (in which words are reduced to numbers), words sharing the same numeric value are viewed as having an identical essence on a higher level of meaning. In gematria, the words “messiah” and “serpent” can both be reduced to the same number: 358. So in cabalistic terms, the messiah and the serpent are one and the same. For some gnostics and early Christian sects, the serpent of Genesis was viewed not as the villiain of the book, but as the hero. It was he, after all, who brought divine wisdom to man. God had told Adam not to eat the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, for if he did he “would surely die.” But Adam and Eve did eat the fruit, and they didn’t die. In other words, God was wrong and the serpent was right. The serpent told the truth, and God had lied. Certain Gnostics and Christians thought that this was surely the intended subtext of Genesis. Evidence that they may have been correct can be seen in what amounts to an Aramaic pun. In this now-dead language, used at the time of Christ, the words for “serpent” and “to instruct” are nearly identical. The serpent had instructed

Eve to eat of the Tree of Life, and in following his advice, she gained wisdom. Viewed in this light, how could the serpent not be seen as the hero of Genesis? As previously noted, in Jewish apocrypha, there is a story in which Eve is seduced by the serpent of Eden (Samael), and it is he, not Adam, who fathers of Cain. Could this strange tradition have something to do with Moses and Christ, possibly Cain’s descendants, being connected to serpent symbolism? Perhaps. Both men were obviously privy to the traditions connected with their family - traditions that have not come down to us through mainstream Christianity. Some sects, such as the Ophite Gnostics, have promoted theologies which explicitly identify Christ with the serpent. According to author Stephen Flowers in Lords of the Left-Hand Path, these groups felt that:

“Christ

came as a manifestation of the light-bearing serpent... The serpent brought humanity knowledge (gnosis) of good and evil (Genesis 3:1-7), and can further aid man in getting the fruit of eternal life, thus making man like God, or like Christ.”

Though this is purely a philosophical abstraction, it is interesting insofar as one would not logically expect to find even a single tradition in which Christ was identified as a serpent, let alone several. Yet the examples from Moses, the cabala, and the Ophite Gnostics would seem to indicate that people had some concrete reason for making such a connection. We know that for many years following the death of Moses, the bronze serpent made by him became a sacred object of idolotry for the early Israelites. In some schools of esoteric Christianity, it is thought that the cross of Christ is synonymous with the Tree of Life. There is even a very old Latin motto which, when translated, states: “The wood of the Cross is the Tree of Knowledge.” If the cross of Christ is symbolically equal to the Tree of Life, it follows that Christ would likewise be emblematic of the serpent who dwelt in that Tree. This may explain an otherwise inexplicable but nonetheless common alchemical motif: the crucified snake. Though in the context of Christian iconography, this repreated identification of Christ with the serpent appears to make little or no sense, if one looks to religious ideas prominent well before the advent of Judaism, the symbolism is a perfect fit. In many ancient cultures, such as Egypt, poisonous serpents were venerated. In Chaldea, they were symbols of God and of the Sun. This has caused some scholars to misconstrue the Chaldeans as being superstitious “snake worshippers”, but such is not the case. The serpent as a religious icon embodies a very high degree of sophisticated symbolism. Serpents are perhaps among the most earthbound of creatures, and yet were identified with the Sun. For the Chaldeans, this would have signified the union of Heaven and Earth, or spirit and matter. This is precisely the symbolism inherent in the notion of Christ: an intersection of attributes both heavenly and earthly, both human and divine.

Because serpents shed their skin, they were associated with the idea of death and resurection, of rebirth and immortality. Once again, these are the same ideas central to the mythos of Christ. A vestage of this so-called “serpent worship” can be found in an obscure Judaic sect called the Naasenes. The Naasean doctrine posited that God was a primordial hermaphrodite, as was Adam. The sect chose the serpent as a representation of God because it was thought that snakes possessed both sexes, and thus the power of self-generation. It was a creature like unto God. Is it possible that Christ, the serpent messiah, was a Naasene? Perhaps. It can be shown that the moniker “Jesus of Nazareth” is a misnomer, since the town of Nazareth did not exist at the time of Christ, which is why some protestant churches now refer to him as “Jesus the Nazarene” instead. The authors of Holy Blood, Holy Grail have speculated that Jesus was a Nazorean, another obscure Jewish sect of whom Samson was a follower. But given the serpent imagery found in alternate traditions of the life of Christ, might not the “Naasene hypothesis” be every bit as likely? After all, it was prophecized that the messiah would take the form of a serpent as early as the time of The Book of Exodus. 3

That there is a conncetion between the Naasean tradition and that of Chaldea seems highly likely. Chaldea’s deified kings were associated symbolically with both the Sun and the serpent, and were viewed to be “sons of the Sun”, or sons of God. The solar/serpentine motif shows up in the names of many ancient gods and kings, including some central to our own investigation. The name “Marduk” can be translated as “Son of the Sun” of “Son of the Lord”, as “duk” means both “sun” and “lord”, but “mar” can also mean “serpent”, giving this title the alternate meaning “Serpent of the Sun”, or “Serpent of the Lord.” As you may recall, the name of the South American tutelary deity “Quetzlcoatl” is also said to mean “Serpent of the Sun.” In ancient Egypt the word for “serpent” was “sir”, which allows us to translate “Osiris” as “Sun Serpent Lord.” And the name of the Chaldean tutelary deity “Oannes” can be translated into the nearly identical “Sun Lord Serpent.” Furthermore, you will recall that the South American god “Noach Yum Chac” (obviously connected with Noah) is supposed to have written a text titled Proof that I am a Serpent. Though the serpent imagery is obviously mere symbolism, it nonetheless constitutes a symbol central to the identity of the Watchers and their offspring one taken seriously by them, as it would later be by the Merovingians. Could it be a symbol of their heritage, derived from some illustrious (or perhaps sacred) forebear, a figure intimately connected to the idea of the solar serpent, perhaps one of the Chadeans’ deified kings? It is quite possible. If this were the case, it would explain the legend of the serpent fathering Cain. You will note that the serpent heritage which was such a matter of pride for the god-kings of other cultures was a cause for shame in the context of Judaism. In the JudeoChristian version of events, the Original Sin is miscegenation, not disobedience. Could it be that the woman presented in all monotheistic religions as the primordial matriarch was in fact seduced by a Chaldean king? The name “Samael” may hold some clues. It consists of “Sam”, which means “Sun”, and “ael”, which means “Son of God.” So Samael is a serpent who represents both the Sun and the Son of God, precisely the symbolism associated with Chaldean

kings. Is this the reason that Cain, a man remembered by other cultures as a mighty king and a builder of great cities, was villianized and written out of the Old Testament almost entirely? Very possibly so. It is assumed that Cain’s bloodline disappeared from Biblical events at the same time he vanished East of Eden, and that subsequent patriarchs derived their descent from Adam’s “third son”, Seth. However, a close examination of the genealogies connected to Cain and Seth reveals that such may not be the case. Except for a few extra names added to the list of Seth’s descendants, the two genealogies are nearly identical.

Cain’s descendants are: Enoch, Irad, Mahujael, Methusael, Lamech.

Seth’s descendants are: Enos, Cainan, Mhalaleel, Jared, Enoch, Mathuselah, Lamech

The correspondances should be obvious: “Jared” is “Irad”, “Mathuselah” is “Mahujael”, and so on. Both lists contain “Lamech”, and both contain “Enoch” (with an additional “Enos” to further confuse things.) It is as though the authors are retaining the true history, yet falsifying it just enough to throw off all but the most attentive reader. And indeed, the similarities have not passed unnoticed. Many Biblical scholars have commented on these odd genealogies, some suggesting that the one descending from Seth was an obvious fabrication, and that such a figure probably never existed. Cain had to be written out of Jewish history for some reason, but this task must have been quite difficult, because he was a very famous figure in the ancient world, known for having erected great cities across the length and breadth of Sumer and Chaldea. He built Ninevah, Erech, Agade (Akkad), and Lagash. He was looked to as a founding father by nations and cultures that seemingly had no connection to Jewish history. He built Babylon, and Babylonians were generally viewed as the natural-born enemies of the Jewish nation. Curiously, he appears to be a figure both central to Jewish history, and perplexingly outside of it. There is perhaps more written in the Bible about Cain under his guise as King Nimrod of Babylon than there is written about Cain proper. The historical figure of Nimrod can, as we have shown, be conclusively identified with Cain, and like Cain, he is another character roundly demonized in the Old Testament. (He is also portrayed as having lived long after the time of Cain, something we clearly disagree with.) In early Jewish and Christian texts he is depicted as a fierce tyrant, a giant who hunted humans, and a king who “waged war against God.” But in the kingdoms he left behind he was worshipped as a god centuries after his death, and later kings would claim to be Nimrod reincarnated.

The Chaldean Connection

The genealogy of the Merovingian bloodline has for centuries been shrouded in mystery, and yet, we have been able to definitively trace it back to the Shepherd Kings of ancient Sumer. Subsequently, we have managed to finetune the focus of our investigation further still and many indications (both ancient and modern) seem to suggest that the role played by Chaldea was of pivotal importance. For instance, in The Book of Genesis, we are told that the Biblical patriarch Abraham was “a Chaldean from Ur.” For most readers, this seemingly insignificant factoid would undoubtedly slip by unnoticed, but to the student of ancient cultures, it is pregnant with portent, because Chaldea was known to be a Mecca of astronomy, astrology, and the black arts. So much so, in fact, that the word “Chaldean” in many ancient cultures was synonymous with “sorcerer.” Even so far away as Northern Europe, their term for sorcerer, “galdyr”, was rooted in “Chaldee.” The authors of Genesis obviously did their utmost to distance the figure of Abraham from the occult traditions of Chaldea, yet Abraham still appears to be an occultist both in biblical and extra-biblical texts. Note the following quote from Pseudo Eupolemus:

“Abraham

excelled all in nobility and wisdom; he sought and obtained the knowledge of astrology and the Chaldean craft... he traveled to Phoenicia and dwelt there. He pleased the Phoenician king by teaching the Phoenicians the cycles of the Sun and Moon, and everything else as well... [in Egypt] Abraham lived in Heliopolis with the Egyptian priests and taught them much: He explained astrology and the other sciences to them.”

From Artapanus:

“Abraham...

came to Egypt with all his household to the Egyptian king Pharothothes and taught him astrology.”

And from Josephus’ Antiquities of the Jews:

“...before

the coming of Abraham, the Egyptians were ignorant of these sciences, which thus traveled from the Chaldeans into Egypt, [and then] passed to the Greeks.”

It is clear from these quotes that Abraham travelled far and wide not to preach the gospel of the “one true God”, but rather to spread the wisdom of the Chaldean craft. These Chaldean sciences seem to echo the teachings of the Watchers, and pertained to geometry, astronomy, and the movements of the planets and stars. Compare the lore of the Watchers to what Philo records about the Chaldeans:

“The

Chaldeans exercised themselves most especially with astronomy, and attributed all things to the movement of the stars, believing that whatever is in the world is governed by forces encompassed in numbers and numerical proportions... seeking out the numerical arrangement according to the cycles of the Sun and Moon, the planets, and the fixed stars… .”

The parallels between the Watchers and the Chaldeans become greater still when viewed in the light of a tradition cited by Eusebius, who wrote: “Abraham traced his ancestry to the giants. These dwelt in the land of Babylonia. Because of their impiety, they were destroyed by the gods.” So there you have it. These two traditions (of the Watchers and of the Chaldeans) sound so identical because they are identical - one and the same. Were the Chaldeans the descendants of the Watchers, and executors of their tradition? Such an idea is certainly reinforced by the fact that the Hebrew word for “Watcher” is “Ir”, which sounds similar to the name of the Chaldean city “Ur”, as well as “Ar”, the Sumerian word mentioned previously that is symbolized by the pentagram (and means “Shining Ones”). Also, the Watchers were called specifically, “the watchers of the heavens”, a very appropriate title for a people (like the Chaldeans) so preoccupied by astronomy. Could it be that Ur was the primordial city-state of the Watchers? Very possibly. Ur is considered so ancient that to the modern mind it has become synonymous with antiquity itself. All of this would appear to suggest that Abraham’s status as a Chaldean from Ur may indeed be very telling. It also seems that Abraham is far more than merely a man who “traced his ancestry to the giants.” Remember, it was said that “Abraham excelled all in nobility and wisdom.” In ancient times “nobility” did not refer to a man’s demeanor - it meant of noble birth. And as we will ultimately reveal, the figure known as Abraham was of very noble birth indeed. For the time being however, we will continue our study of the Chaldean saga by looking into the story of King Gudia. Though one of the most illustrious of the Sumerian/Chaldean monarchs, Gudia remains a relatively obscure personage in terms of mainstream history. Gudia was both priest-king and architect, a builder of great cities and temples, not unlike Cain/Nimrod. And it just so happens that Nimrod was Gudia’s patron saint, as well as having been his ancestor. Gudia was like many of the Old Testament prophets, in that he was prone to dreams and vision. In one such dream, Nimrod himself appeared to the king, revealing to him the blueprints of a temple he wished to be erected in his honor. Upon waking, Gudia lost no time setting in motion plans to construct the Temple of Nimrod, a structure that would eventually be seen as one of the most magnificant edifices of its day.

The reign of Gudia witnessed a flourishing of culture and civilization in his region. He wandered the full length and breadth of Mesopotamia (and often beyond) to amass lumber, blocks, and precious metals for his many projects. He not only built new cities and temple, but rebuilt old ones as well. Ruling from his capitols of Lagash and Ur, he preferred not to be seen as a king, but rather as a priest and prophet. He was known simply as the “Good Shepherd”, and may in fact have refused the title of king (although his name does appear in the King’s List.) Of all the many kings that reigned over Chaldea or Sumer, only a handful of their names are known outside of specialist circles, or from readings of the Old Testament. Those that come to mind are Sargon, Kamurabi, Assurbanipal, and a few others. Why, then (or how) could a man of Gudia’s stature have simply vanished into the mists of history? A possible answer was suggested upon reading that in Gudia’s time and culture there were no letters equivalent to “G” or “I.” Substituting the closest equivalent to those letters results in something both startling and altogether unexpected: Judea. Is it be possible that Judah, the son of Jacob from whom Jews derive their name, could in fact have been a Chaldean priest-king? Are Gudia and Judah one and the same? Turning to the Old Testament in search of information that would either corroborate or disprove altogether such a bizarre thesis revealed passages so scant and so strange as to be of no help whatsoever in either regard. Further searches in Josephus’ Antiquities of the Jews and Louis Ginzberg’s Legends of the Jews proved equally fruitless. How could a man from whom the entire Jewish tribe adopted their name be so little documented in three such major works documenting Jewish history and folklore? It was both perplexing and mysterious, like trying to conceive of a New Testament that featured only a half-dozen off-handed references to Christ. It defied all logic. And it seemed that logic was the only means left to pierce this apparent conspiracy of silence. So it was that the ancient Chaldean King’s List was consulted again, the reasoning being that if Gudia and Judah were the same figure, perhaps other names in close proximity on the list might have a familiar ring. Four lines above Gudia on the list was a king named “Irarum.” Though not precisely identical to “Abraham”, it was the only name on the list with so familiar a ring to it. Remember that these names were not only spelled and pronounced differently from culture to culture, but also often in the same culture. Irarum had a son named “Dar”, who also went by the title “Asahk” (literally, “Son of God”). Asahk’s son was “Khab” (or “Khabulum”), and his son in turn took the royal title “Akhab” (“Son of Khab”). He in turn fathered Gudia. So if we take into account the sound of these names in their respective order, we arrive at something quite extraordinary:

• • •

“Irarum” is the same as “Abraham” “Asahk” is the same as “Issac” “Akhab” is the same as “Jacob”

•

“Gudia”

is the same as “Judah”

So with one notable exception (the extra figure of “Khab” or “Khabulum”), we find in the Chaldean King’s List an almost perfect reflection of the Old Testament line of patriarchs. At this point it is virtually impossible to ascertain what any of this really means. Were the Chaldeans all Jews? Were the people who called themselves Jews really Chaldeans? Were both merely different nations or tribes of an essentially Sumerian populace? Could it be that the so-called “Shepherdic Jews” were not so named because they had been shepherds, but because they claimed descent from a priest-king known as the “Good Shepherd”? Remember that this was the same title used to refer to Christ, who acted in the capacity of a priestking without a throne. Christ, too, is said in some early traditions to have been a Chaldean, an idea we will explore in due course. The Chaldean tradition, and its secret gnosis, is intimately linked with astronomy, astrology, geometry, architecture, and magic; all topics central to our ongoing inquiries. But there’s more. It was said that Gudia practiced the “Chaldean rite” of bull sacrifice - a practice that passed from Chaldea to Egypt, and eventually, to many parts of the ancient world. Significantly, this rite is said to have originated in Atlantis, and Gudia, like the Atlantean kings, kept the sacrificial bulls in his own palace. Further, when Gudia’s ancestor appeared to him in a vision and gave him specifications for the construction of a magnificent temple, the building thus erected was a seven-stepped ziggurat. Legend tells us that an identical structure once existed as the royal palace on Atlantis. By reviving Atlantean architecture and religious ritual, Gudia seemed to be trying to build a bridge between the past and the present, or to reconstitute the past in the present. His chosen title, “Gudia” (“Lord/King Ia”) harkens back to Sumer’s first deified king. Within two centuries of his death, Babylonians worshipped him as the “Divine Gudia”, and put statues of him in their temples. The reign of Gudia is reckoned by some scholars to have been around 2400 BC. By the time Judaism began to coalesce some 900 years later, Gudia and his illustrious forebears would have become mythic figures in an oral tradition. Though there is little proof beyond what we have presented to link the figures of Gudia and Judah, there are references to Judah being a ruling king in rabbinic lore, including descriptions of a crown, royal scepter, and royal signet ring. And although orthodox Judaism seems to have rejected most of what constitutes the Chaldean tradition, there are indications that these ideas were preserved on a sub rosa level, to reemerge later in a most unexpected context.

Christ the Chaldean

And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England’s mountain green? And was the Holy Lamb of God On England’s pleasant pastures seen? - William Blake, Jerusalem

As the above lines from William Blake’s 18th century poem Jerusalem reveal, the tradition that Christ came to England is one that is both widespread and long-standing. Indeed, Roman chroniclers began referring to it as early as the reign of Tiberius Caesar, who died in 37 AD (only four short years after the presumed date of Christ’s own death). It was in Glastonbury, Cornwall, that the first Christian church was built, purportedly by Christ himself. For those unfamiliar with the story, it is well-documented that Christ’s uncle, Joseph of Arimathea made frequent trips to England in the course of his travels as a tin merchant. As the story goes, Jesus often accompanied his uncle on these journeys, and ended up spending a good deal of time in Cornwall during his well-known “lost years.” It was here that he conducted the early years of his ministry, and legend records that he constructed a rather large house for the habitation of his mother, Mary. It was this house which, pursuant to the crucifixion, became recognized as the first Christian church in the world. And this first Christian church was known by a number of names, such as “the wattle church”, “the old church”, and perhaps most significantly, “the Culdee church.” In other words, “the Chaldean church.” In Thomas Campbell’s Reullura, we read:

“The pure Culdees Were Alby’s earliest priests of God 4

Ere yet an island of her seas By foot of Saxon monk was trod.”

In E. Raymond Capt’s marvelous book The Traditions of Glastonbury, he states: “The first converts of the Culdees... were the Druids of Britain, who found no

difficulty in reconciling the teaching of the Culdees with their own teaching of the resurrection and the inheritance of eternal life.” In addition, the Druids had long believed in the coming of a messiah - a messiah named “Jesu.” They also shared the Chaldean preoccupation with sacred geometry and astronomy. And too, they had the odd habit of referring to God as “the ancient of days.” Clearly these two groups’ traditions had a shared origin of some sort. Capt continues:

“Culdees are recorded in church documents as officiating at St. Peter, York, until AD 939. According to some church authorities, the Canons of York were called ‘Culdees’ as late as the reign of Henry II (AD 1133-1189). In Ireland, a whole county was named ‘Culdee.’ The names ‘Culdee’ and ‘Culdish’ cling tenaciously to the Scottish church, and its prelates until a much later date.”

The Culdee phenomenon appears to be little known, little discussed, and even less understood. Nonetheless, over the centuries a fascinating number of theories and legends have become attached to them: theories and legends that are all the more fascinating in that they seem to overlap with much of our own research. What follows are some of the fundamental assumptions held about the Culdees, as collected and preserved by Arthur Edward Waite in his New Encyclopedia of Freemasonry:

•

The Culdees were Druids.

• • • • •

They were identical with the Chaldeans mentioned by the prophet Daniel. They were priests in Assyria and can also be traced to Babylon. They were Casideans, Essenes, Therapeutae, and Magi. Beneath their cloak of Christianity they concealed a secret doctrine. They were mathematicians and architects at the time of the early Roman emperors. They were the builders of King Solomon’s Temple. The Culdees of York were all Masons. They denied the personality of Jesus - meaning the historical personality - and also the existence of the Devil. The Culdee monks were the schoolmasters and architects of their time. It was thought that the historical allegory of the Round Table, as well as the quest for the Holy Grail, referred in mystical terms to Culdee rites.

• • • • •

If the foregoing statements are indeed accurate, it would appear that there was the presence of a Templar-like fraternity in England for a full thousand years before the advent of the Knights Templar. And not just in England, but throughout the British Isles. The Culdees had commandaries, schools and churches in Wales, Ireland and Scotland as well. It is said that despite pressure from Rome, the Culdees remained a very strong presence right up to the time of

the Norman conquest , which began in 1066. The timeframe here seems highly significant, as 1066 is only a few decades before the founding of the Order of Sion and the Knights Templar by Godfroi de Bouillon in 1090. 5

Is it purely coincidental that an organization whose history spans over a thousand years should essentially vanish, and in a matter of mere decade a group whose outlook seems nearly identical should emerge in another part of the world? Most of what the historians assert about the Culdees is incredibly similar to what was said of the Templars. Let us compare: both groups were said to possess a secret doctrine which they concealed behind the facade of Christianity. Both groups denied Christ in a sense. Both groups were architects. And both groups were associated with the Holy Grail, as well as with Solomon’s Temple. There definitely seems to be a continuity of belief, purpose and action between the two groups. Certainly the mystery surrounding both groups appears to be the same mystery. But if these two groups represent different manifestations of the same esoteric tradition, it is not simply a tradition whose origin came about after the crucifixion of Christ. The tradition can clearly be traced to the Chaldean King Gudia, and further still to his role model and patron saint, Nimrod/Cain.

1

“Asmodeus” contains that root word, “Az”, that was yet another title of Cain.

2 According to Louis Ginzberg, Nimrod did this because he feared Abraham “would rise up against him and triumphantly give the lie to his religion” - a polytheistic cult in which Nimrod himself was worshipped as a god. 3 “Naas” is the Hebrew word for “serpent.” 4

England was then called “Albion.”

In other locations, such as Ireland, their influence remained strong well into the fourteenth century. 5

Cave Of Treasures -- Vessel Of God

Mount Kardo

As you will recall, Sauniere’s enigmatic relief map corresponds to the Holy Land, which initially lead us to speculate that he was creating a “new Jerusalem” in the south of France, as other researchers have suggested. Such an idea, however, begs the question: On what grounds would this obscure locale qualify for the status of being a new Holy Land? Certainly the folklore connected to this region suggests that it has been considered a sacred place since ancient times, yet no one knows why. For what reason would members of the bloodline be drawn back repeatedly over the centuries to this secluded spot in the middle of nowhere? Dagobert II came here and is rumored to have discovered a fortune in gold which financed his kingship. Was his “discovery” mere serendipity, or could the treasure have been exactly what he was looking for? When his son Sigisbert was in danger, it was to Rennes-le-Chateau that he was taken for refuge. Legends testify that a sacred king was buried at the parish church, but such lore originated in a time so distant that no one remembers who the king was or when he lived. It is said that the goddess Rhea, a consort of Kronos, was somehow connected to Rennes-le-Chateau, and the village was once named Rhedae in her honor. And if it is indeed true that another wellknown consort, Mary Magdalen came here, then the symbolic significance of this place spans many centuries. Taking into consideration the sacred geometry encoded into the region’s landscape, it would appear that the mystical importance of Rennes-le-Chateau may well reach back beyond the beginnings of recorded history. All of this, taken together with an ever-mounting accumulation of clues and evidence, gave us pause to revisit a basic hypothesis from an altogether different perspective: What if Sauniere’s strange relief map was not, as is generally assumed, merely a bizarre attempt to proclaim a new Jerusalem? What if it constituted quite the inverse? All indications are that the antiquity of this region’s status as a sacred site far exceeds that of Jerusalem. Could it be possible that what Sauniere was attempting to communicate was that certain secrets and traditions historically considered to be connected to Jerusalem may have in fact had their origin here in the Languedoc? Believe it or not, legends tying the Languedoc region to events in the biblical narrative are not without precedent. In fact, one of the major episodes of the Old Testament was said to have played out here: the landing of Noah’s Ark. We have already mentioned the seeming connection between that name of Pyrrha, the heroine of the Greek flood myth, and the Pyrenees mountain range. We have mentioned the idea that the Flood goddess - or the person her character is based upon - may have been buried beneath one of these mountains. And we have mentioned the apparent identity of the words “Pyrenees” and “Parnassus”, which would seem to suggest that one of the

mountains within this range running through southern France may have been the actual resting place for the ark of Deucalion, the Greek Noah. Strangely, this is much the same idea subscribed to by modern followers of the “sleeping prophet” Edgar Cayce. One of Mr. Cayce’s proclamations was that Atlanteans fleeing the destruction of their homeland by flood escaped in boats, and eventually landed in the Pyrenees. Though accepting the testimony of a modern-day prophet may seem inadvisable, Cayce’s accuracy rate has been extremely high , and if his statement is little more than a pure coincidence, it is certainly a striking coincidence. 1

Returning to sources of a more historical nature, there are a number of alternative traditions in which the Ark lands in places other than Ararat. In several of these traditions, the place of the Ark’s repose is called “Kardo”, or “Kardu.” Such is the case in The Book of the Cave of Treasures, which says:

“...

the Ark flew about for one hundred and fifty days, and it came to rest on the mountains of Kardo...”

This accords with a passing comment made by Ignatius Donnelly in Atlantis: The Antediluvian World, where he writes: The Romans and the Persians called the line of the axis of the globe Cardo, and it was to cardo the needle pointed. Now ‘Cardo was the name of the mountain on which the human race took refuge from the Deluge... the primitive geographic point for the countries which were the cradle of the human race.’ (Urquart’s Pillars of Hercules, vol. i., p145.) From this comes our word ‘cardinal’, as in the cardinal points.” To us, Donnelly seems to be indicating in this passage that Kardo may have been, in ancient times, literally observed as “the center of the world”, even being used to provide those people’s “prime meridian.” Thus it would be an ideal beacon and refuge for the pilot of an ark trying to navigate to the safety of its lofty peaks during a deluge. The concept that the “mount of refuge” may have been called “Kardo” is of interest to us for a number of reasons. Firstly, because the very word itself is so distinctly dissimilar to “Ararat.” Secondly, a perusal of a number of ancient maps charting the region in which the Ark is usually presumed to have landed show no mountains (nor mountain ranges) called “Kardo”, “Kardu”, or anything sounding remotely similar. There does exist, however, a mountain whose name indeed sounds incredibly similar: the previously mentioned mountain of Cardou near Rennes-le-Chateau. It is the highest peak in the region, and is even featured prominently in Poussin’s The Shepherds of Arcadia. As we have said, Cardou has been suggested by the authors of The Tomb of God to be the final resting place of

Christ. And certain documents published by the Priory of Sion, some written by Pierre Plantard himself, suggest that something called “the Roseline” runs through Mt. Cardou - something which they insinuate was once the “prime meridian line” of the ancient world. If the Ark did indeed come to rest here, that would explain why such a point would have become “Ground Zero” for their measurement of the new, post-diluvian Earth. This could go a long way towards explaining the holy mystique that has been associated with this place for so long. This idea receives further support from yet another Priory document, the previously-mentioned poem Le Serpent Rouge. The setting of the poem clearly takes place in Rennes-le-Chateau, and the main character is a mysterious “friend” whom the author describes as “...like the pilot of the everlasting Ark of Noah...” As the poem continues, it makes two mysterious references to “the line of the Meridian” (the “Roseline”). There is also repeated use of the phrase “deliver me from the mire, so that I do not sink”, another seeming reference to the Flood. Then, towards the end, the narrator states that the sky “opens its floodgates”, a clear allusion to the biblical Deluge. The poem seems to be saying implicitly that Noah landed near Rennes-le-Chateau. And this is a document written by the Priory of Sion itself! It is worth noting here the fact that one of the townships near Rennes-le-Chateau, spelled “Arques”, is actually pronounced just like “ark.” This new take on the Flood myth begins to crystallize when we examine more fully The Book of the Cave of Treasures. It is highly unusual that a Christian text such as this should purport to chronicle an alternate landing place for the Ark, but there is much that is unusual to be found in this obscure apocryphal tome. And there is much to be found within its pages which seems to specifically relate to the mystery of Rennes-le-Chateau. For all intents and purposes, The Book of the Cave of Treasures is a retelling of the biblical narrative, starting with Creation and ending with the Resurrection of Christ. It seems to have been intended as a genealogy, as indicated by its other title, The Book of the Order of the Succession of Families from Adam to Christ. Yet it is much more than a straightforward genealogy. More so than any other chronicle, it deals extensively with that mythic and enigmatic site known as “the Cave of Treasures”, a place purported to be a necropolis containing the bodies of the Biblical patriarchs. In rabbinic lore, obscure apocrypha and Jewish legends, when a patriarch dies, his family transports his body to the Cave of Treasures. There he is buried alongside his ancestors, in a secret tomb that is also a repository for sacred treasures. It is further hinted that the cave conceals an archive of sorts - one containing the most ancient “secrets of the Church.” This mysterious place is first alluded to in The Book of the Cave of Treasures when God speaks to Adam, telling him:

“...

command thy sons, and order them to embalm thy body after thy death with myrrh, cassia, and stakte. And they shall place thee in this cave, wherein I am

making you dwell this day, until the time when your expulsion shall take place from the regions of paradise to the earth that is outside it. And whosoever shall take thy body with him ... shall deposit it in the spot which I shall show him, in the center of the earth...” [Emphasis added.]

From this passage it seems that the cave in which God is “making [them] dwell” is within “the regions of Paradise.” Furthermore, it would appear to indicate that these regions of Paradise are situated “in the center of the earth.” Yet almost immediately, the text continues: “And when Adam and Eve had gone forth from Paradise, the door of Paradise was shut, and a cherub bearing a two-edged sword stood by it.” Though the first passage is confusingly written, what it evidently relates is that the couple was in Paradise. In the second passage, Adam and Eve are suddenly outside of Paradise. Any confusion engendered thus far is then compounded by the very next sentence: “And Adam and Eve went down... over the mountains of Paradise, and they found a cave in the top of the mountain, and they entered and hid themselves therein.” We are surely meant to assume that the “mountains of Paradise” are synonymous with the aforementioned regions of Paradise, and that the cave referred to is the same as that mentioned earlier as being associated with the center of the Earth. Such an assumption seems to be borne out by the following:

“Adam

took from the skirts of the mountain of Paradise, gold, myrrh, and frankincense, and he placed them in the cave, and consecrated it that it might be the house of prayer for him and his sons. And he called it ‘The Cave of Treasures.’”

The text seems to be deliberately attempting to establish two separate and distinct messages: that the Cave of Treasures is within Eden; and opposingly, that the Cave of Treasures is outside Eden. In due course we will explore the symbolic implications of this strange mixed message. At any rate, when Adam had lived nine-hundred and thirty years:

“...the day of his death drew nigh... And he commanded his sons Seth and said to him... when I die, embalm me with myrrh, and cassia, and stakte, and deposit my body in the Cave of Treasures... And when Adam was dead his son Seth embalmed him according as Adam had commanded him... And they took Adam’s body up to the top of the mountain, and buried in in the Cave of Treasures... And Seth took Anosh, his firstborn, and Kainan, and Mahlalail, and their wives and children, and lead them up into the glorious mountain where Adam was buried... [and] they received the name, which is the best of all names, and were called ‘the sons of God’... thus they lived in that mountain in all purity and holiness...”

The emphasis added is ours. The text is unequivocally stating that Adam’s descendants lived inside that mountain. Not on it, but in it. This is not merely our spin on a passage that is vague or open to interpretation: the text is unambiguous. And why is this important? Because we have here an apocryphal biblical text that appears to verify a thesis which we are putting forth: that in ancient times, there was a mysterious race of people who dwelt inside mountains. As you will recall, these people were often thought to be gods. The passage just quoted referred to those who dwelt in the mountain as “the sons of God.” This is the term, as we know, that was used to designate the Watchers. Another idea closely tied to this “holy mountain” concept is that of the “center of the Earth.” This is in no way analogous to a geographic center, such as many religions attempt to establish, proclaiming their holy cities to be “the center of the world.” The references to Adam’s body being deposited in the center of the Earth are uniformly specific. Not once does such a reference say “at” the center of the earth, but always “in.” We have explored at length those traditions (mystical, religious and occult) to which the center of the Earth was of great symbolic significance. The kingdom of Agartha was said to be in the center of the Earth. The tombs of Hermes, Osiris, Kronos, and Christian Rosenkreutz were said to be in the center of the Earth. So too, the sacred World Mountain, the Tree of Life, the Black Sun, the Philosopher’s Stone, the Emerald Tablet, and so forth. While this theme is fairly common in occult traditions, it has never constituted part of the mainstream Christian tradition. Indeed, Christian orthodoxy deems the underworld as being synonymous with hellfire and damnation. Yet in this Christian text, when God speaks to Adam of the center of the Earth, he tells him that “in that place shall redemption be effected for thee and all thy children.” There are certain aspects of The Book of the Cave of Treasures that seem to retain a far more ancient - and far more concise - version of biblical events than does the canonized Old Testament. For instance, the deaths of the patriarchs are not merely mentioned in passing, but are recorded in precise detail. When a patriarch passes away, the book not only mentions his age and the age of his sons at the time, but includes such information as the month, which week of the month, which day of the week, and even the hour of the day. Could it be that the authors of this document simply concocted such thorough minutia to lend their text the seeming authenticity of a genuinely historical chronicle, or might they have had access to records both very ancient and highly accurate? Whatever your conclusion, one thing is clear: there is much to be found in the Cave of Treasures which is nowhere to be found in the recognized canon. 2

Even following the death and burial of Adam, the paradoxical tenor of The Book of the Cave of Treasures continues unabated. It is said that his progeny “... suffered neither toil, nor fatigue, they had neither seed nor harvest, but they fed themselves with the delectable fruits of glorious trees of all kinds...” Does this language not sound identical to that used to describe the biblical Eden? Yet again we encounter a clear indication that the place of their habitation is Paradise, when presumably, they had long since been banished from there.

Adam’s resting place became the first sacred temple for all his posterity who would “minister before God in the cave of treasures.” So this place was both the first sacred temple and the first sacred tomb. It was also, as you’ll recall, a dwelling place for Adam’s descendants. What is being discussed here seems to be more than just a mere cave. We can probably assume that the temple/tomb portion of this compound was deemed so holy that it was maintained as a place separate and distinct from the living quarters. There are repeated references in the text which seem to indicate that the dwelling place within the mountain may have resided deep within its recesses. If this is true, the Cave of Treasures might possibly constitute an intricate subterranean complex not unlike those underground cities found at Kaymalki and Derinkuyu. It has been said that Rennes-le-Chateau (and indeed the region surrounding it) is “honeycombed” with caves and underground passages. Part of the lore of Rennes-le-Chateau asserts that Berenger Sauniere devoted a great deal of time to the exploration of this vast network of tunnels. And as with so many aspects of the mystery surrounding this place, no one seems to know who created these tunnels, or at what time. Perhaps not surprisingly, when we questioned locals at Rennes-leChateau as to the location of these passageways, they feigned ignorance as to their very existence.

Royalty, Priesthood and Prophecy

As with other versions of the biblical narrative, the coming of a great flood is foretold in The Book of the Cave of Treasures, albeit with a number of differences. Noah’s father Methuselah, laying on his deathbed, instructs his son to take the body of Adam along on the Ark:

“...

get thee down from this holy mountain. And take with thee the body of our father Adam, and these three offerings, gold, and myrrh, and frankincense; set the body of Adam in the middle of the ark, and lay these offerings upon him.”

Methuselah, waxing poetic about the survival of Noah and his kindred in the face of universal destruction, he told his son that:

“...

three measures of the... blessings which God gave unto your father Adam... shall be kneaded into your seed, and into the seed of your children, that is to say, Royalty, Priesthood, and Prophecy.”

The book’s description of Noah and his entourage descend to enter the Ark sounds more befitting a man being expelled from Paradise than one being saved from immanent annihilation:

“...and

they went forth from the Cave of Treasures. And as they were coming down from that holy mountain they were smitten sorely with grief; and they wept in agony because they were to be deprived of that holy place, and the habitation of their fathers. And weeping painfully, and wailing sorrowfully, and enveloped in gloom, they said: Remain in peace, O holy Paradise, thou habitation of our father Adam! Remain in peace, O Cave of Treasures! Remain in peace, O our Fathers and Patriarchs! Remain in peace, O Haven and Asylum of the Angels! Pray ye for the remnant of your posterity which is left. And as they were coming down from that holy mountain, they kissed the stones thereof, and embraced the delectable trees thereof... and suffering sorely they descended to the plain. And Noah went into the Ark, and deposited the body of Adam in the middle thereof... wherein also all the mysteries of the Church were deposited..”

Again, the emphasis added is ours. This site that Noah is abandoning is referred to as “holy” no less than four times in a single page, and at one point, twice in a single sentence. It is referred to as a “holy place”, a “holy mountain”, and even “holy Paradise.” We have already suggested the thesis that the Flood and the expulsion from Paradise might in fact be one and the same event. The symbolism inherent in Noah’s abandonment of the holy mountain would seem to lend credence to such an idea. In due course, we will explore this hypothesis more fully; for the time being, however, we will resume with our narrative. Before his death, Methuselah told his son Noah that when at last the flood waters had subsided, and the Ark had come to rest, he should instruct his firstborn to take the body of Adam and deposit it “in the center of the earth.” This is odd, because in literally every other reference to the center of the Earth, it is unambiguously identified with the Cave of Treasures. And in a bizarre tale describing the removal of Adam’s body from the Cave of Treasures, it is said that the bodies of the patriarchs began to “cry out”, protesting Adam’s departure. He assured them that he would return, “and bade them wait patiently.” Both episodes would appear to foretell much the same thing: that Adam's body would be brought back to the Cave of Treasures after the Flood.

For the most part, the details related in this text differ little from other versions. The moment the door of the Ark is sealed, the floodgates of the heavens are opened. As the text states: “and the foundations of the earth were rent asunder... And the Ark flew about for one hundred and fifty days, and it came to rest on the mountains of Kardo.” This, as you’ll recall, is where we started. In the course of our research, words and language have played a critical role. The etymology of names, place-names, and key phrases has frequently lead us to clues - or solutions to clues - which we might not otherwise have discovered. Consequently, when we encountered a mountain in The Book of the Cave of Treasures (Mount Kardo) which sounded nearly identical to the one found in Rennes-le-Chateau (Mount Cardou), we naturally felt that the circumstance merited further investigation. Ordinarily, a place-name that sounds like another, in and of itself, wouldn’t seem to be of much significance. But this particular place-name is attached to a mountain peak which dominates a landscape steeped in mystery: A place associated with a hidden treasure. A place said to conceals the tomb of “an ancient sacred king.” A place thought to have been holy since ancient times. A place, moreover, already associated with alternate traditions concerning the Flood and the Ark. Our first inkling that the Flood might somehow figure into the mystery of Rennes-le-Chateau occurred during our initial visit there. The shear quantity of imagery at the church relating to water or the sea seemed quite inexplicable. Then, during a morning walk near out hotel, we encountered an unexpected sight: a massive rock encrusted with fossilized sea shells and tiny barnacles. We were on top of a mountain, over a hundred miles from the sea, yet it seemed fairly evident that at some point this entire region had been under water. At the time we didn’t know quite what to make of our incongruous discovery, although it certainly influenced our thinking from that moment on. It is no doubt due to this strange rock, and the image it conveyed of Rennes-leChateau beneath the waves that we paid especially close attention to the unusual water imagery in Sauniere’s church. Though we weren’t yet sure exactly what to make of such symbolism, one thing was certain: it seemed to constitute a central theme of sorts in the church, and to our knowledge, not a single soul had ever passed comment upon it in print.

The Place of the Skull

More clues found in The Book of the Cave of Treasures that are relevant to Rennes-le-Chateau involve what supposedly occurred in the period pursuant to the Flood. As per the instructions of Methuselah, Noah tells his firstborn, Shem:

“When I am dead, go into the Ark, wherein thou hast been saved, and bring out the body of our father Adam... and place it in the center of the earth... and let no

man have knowledge of what thou doest... take heed that this story is never mentioned again in all your generations...” [Emphasis added.]

Perhaps Noah’s warning about secrecy was intended to vouchsafe the location of the Cave of Treasures, which, as we have indicated, is synonymous with the center of the Earth. Shem set out, aided by Melchizedek, and both followed “the Angel of the Lord”:

“...

And when they arrived at... the center of the earth, the Angel of the Lord showed Shem the place [for the body of Adam]. And when Shem deposited the body of our father Adam upon that place... the earth opened itself in the form of a cross, and Shem and Melchizedek deposited the body of Adam there [i.e. in the cavity]. And as soon as they had laid in therein, the four quarters drew quickly together, and enclosed the body of our father Adam...”

What is most interesting about this story is that the symbolism is identical to that contained in an episode of Grail lore set in the Languedoc region of France. We are talking, of course, about the previously-mentioned tale of Montsegur, in which a dove descends from the heavens, the top of the mountain opens up, and the bird drops the Grail stone into the center of the mountain. These two stories seem to constitute variations on a theme - a theme that would appear to symbolically connect the story of Adam both to the Grail and to this region in the south of France. There is yet another salient detail central to Adam’s burial which may link this story to the Languedoc. The place where he was buried was thereafter called “Golgotha” (“the Place of the Skull”), because “the head of all the children of men was deposited there.” (Emphasis added.) Of course, the location of Christ’s crucifixion in the Holy Land is called “Golgotha.” What then would cause us to hypothesize that this Golgotha might be found in the south of France? Once again, we turn to the mysterious relief map custom made to the specifications of Berenger Sauniere at the time of his death. It was purported to be a map of Rennes-le-Chateau, yet the place-names depicted on it all referred to sites in Jerusalem: Gethsemane, the Tomb of Christ, the Tomb of Joseph of Arimathea, and Golgotha. Remember that the construction of this strange three-dimensional map was one of the final acts of Berenger Sauniere’s life. Indeed, the priest died before he could even collect the completed work. This odd relic could very well constitute Sauniere’s final clue to posterity as to the nature of the mystery which he had devoted such a large portion of his life to. For us, this possibility seems far more compelling (and far more likely) than the other explanations that have been posited. Though we had initially embraced the idea, we find doubtful the theory that Berenger Sauniere was attempting to somehow create a new Jerusalem. Recall that at the time of his death he was - despite his great wealth - an

obscure parish priest. His church was located in a very out-of-the-way part of France, in a town that was virtually unknown. Though today the mystery surrounding both his life and this region has reached mythic proportions, this has only occurred in the last quarter century or so. If he ever entertained the idea of giving rise to a new Jerusalem, he went to his grave with not a single prospect that such a dream might someday materialize. But he was indeed drawing parallels between Rennes-le-Chateau and Jerusalem by creating this map. If one looks at a modern map of Rennes-le-Chateau, and then compares it to an ancient map of Jerusalem, it is readily evident that the layout of the two correspond so much to one another that a connection could be drawn between them even without Sauniere’s relief map. And in fact, we had drawn such a connection long before ever knowing of the existence of the relief map. Sauniere had obviously gone to great lengths to redesign his domain so as to echo the spatial disposition of things in old Jerusalem. There was only one problem: the result, however elaborate, was far too subtle. Obviously, Sauniere could not be expected to foresee a time in which mass-marketed books about his own life would contain maps depicting both his own domain and that of the Holy Land. But the very fact that he devoted so much time to leaving clues demonstrates that he clearly expected the mystery surrounding his odd little church (and the legends of buried treasure) to generate curiosity at some point in the future. In order to insure that the symbolic correlation between Jerusalem and Rennesle-Chateau was not lost on future investigators of this mystery, Sauniere commissioned his map. He had already taken pains in the reconfiguration of his church and its grounds to establish this symbolic connection; his map would serve to draw attention to that connection. It is to be assumed that this map, initially meant to have been cast in bronze, would have become a permanent fixture in Sauniere’s church. Puzzled investigators, consulting both maps of Rennes-le-Chateau and of Jerusalem, could not have helped noticing the strange correlation. Had they been especially observant, they may have even noticed yet another correspondence. Sauniere's map is understated and minimalist. It is defined by perhaps less than a half-dozen dominant lines. In terms of aesthetics, it is not particularly evocative. And yet - there is something about it which resonates with the unconscious mind. The general shapes depicted within it (as defined by paths or roads) seem somehow familiar. And the reason for their familiarity is simple: the shapes depicted on the map echo those contained in Berenger Sauniere’s altar painting of Mary Magdalen. One set of lines in the map mimics the mouth of the cave, while another set mimics the slender tilted cross within it. Though such similarities could represent pure coincidence, we find this possibility unlikely. Why? Because Sauniere lavished great care upon the altar piece, personally hand-painting it and making sure that each and every detail was just so. Likewise, the map was made to precise specifications. It was based on his design, and it replicates the details of his altar painting - a painting he considered to be the very centerpiece of his church. Furthermore, the shapes in these two reliefs only echo one another due to a very unusual circumstance: for Sauniere’s map to truly mimic that of the Holy Land, it would have to be turned on its side, with West becoming North, and North becoming East. When this is

done, the map strongly resembles other known relief maps of ancient Jerusalem. What does not match up, however, are the maps’ shapes and lines. Strangely, these shapes and lines don’t appear to refer to anything found in Rennes-le-Chateau either. Could their primary point of reference, then, be Sauniere’s altar piece, the bas-relief of Mary Magdalen? And what are we to glean from the fact that the shapes within these reliefs correlate with one another only when viewed from an orientation that does not equate with that of Jerusalem? Though authors never tire of stressing the importance of the Magdalen altar piece, virtually nothing of substance has ever been written about it. Speculations as to its possible meaning have been limited to vague generalities, such as: that the cross at which Mary is gazing “might represent” the continuation of Christ’s bloodline, or, there is a skull at her side “because she is often depicted with a skull.” We believe that the symbolism contained in the bas relief can be shown to have far more specific connotations than previously suspected, and that this symbolism is uniquely tied to the traditions surrounding the Cave of Treasures. Aside from the obvious - that Mary Magdalen is shown inside a cave - the most clear-cut clue is the cross. It appears to actually be formed by a living tree, and is sprouting leaves at the top. There is a tradition in esoteric Christianity which says that the cross of Christ is synonymous with the Tree of Life. And according to this tradition, the location of that tree is inside the Cave of Treasures. So an image considered to be the very centerpiece of the church at Rennes-leChateau depicts the consort of Christ inside a cave, and staring at an icon explicitly connected to the mythos of the Cave of Treasures. And there is more. A number of observers, including André Douzet, have commented that the skull at Magdalen’s side is suggestive of an alternate legend surrounding the burial of Adam. In this version, only the skull is interred, and thus the renaming of the site as “Golgotha” makes even more sense. Though Douzet infers nothing from this odd association, it is in perfect accord with virtually every bit of evidence amassed thus far in the course of this chapter. 3

Let us recap: Sauniere makes a three-dimensional map, representing Rennesle-Chateau, but depicting within it a location called “Golgotha.” His altar piece shows a cave, a skull, and the Tree of Life, all associated with Golgotha and the Cave of Treasures. We have demonstrated that the altar piece conceals the same pentagonal geometry linked to the landscape of Rennes-le-Chateau, and furthermore, that key shapes within it correspond to Sauniere’s map. We can only conclude, therefore, that the symbolism encoded in the Magdalen painting, and that contained in the map, both tell one aspect of a larger story, and that each must be viewed in conjunction with the other for the full picture to emerge. What clearly seems to emerge is this: the altar painting is emblematic of the Cave of Treasures, and the map represents Rennes-le-Chateau, while relating it to the idea of the Holy Land. As the two pieces were obviously intended to reflect one another, Sauniere’s message to us would appear to be that somewhere in the vicinity of his small parish, the legendary Cave of Treasures is hidden, waiting to be discovered.

The association of the Cave of Treasures with the word “Golgotha” is perhaps one of the most important clues pointing us towards this conclusion. The skull imagery occurs repeatedly at Rennes-le-Chateau. The archway above the gate to the church cemetery is dominated by a large Templar-style skull and crossbones. Directly above this Death’s Head at the apex of the arch is a cross. Though one might naturally expect to see these images in many cemeteries, this particular pairing (the skull and the cross) both reflects the imagery of the altarpiece and reiterates the notion of Golgotha. Even the very shape of the arch could be said to reinforce this idea, as it could easily be seen to represent a skull inside of a mountain whose peak bears a cross. The combination of the skull and cross appears yet again inside the church with the statue of Mary Magdalen on display there. The cross she cradles seems to be the same living cross/Tree of Life depicted on the altarpiece, and at her feet rests a skull. Perhaps the most bizarre example of skull imagery we encountered at Rennesle-Chateau was at the grave of Berenger Sauniere. Here there is a bas relief depicting his face in profile. Part of it has been smashed away, leaving a rather large hollow spot in his cheek. The resultant damage is so subtle that in the early morning hours it is barely noticeable. But as the Sun climbs higher, towards midday, a distinct shadow is cast that gives Sauniere’s face the uncanny appearance of a skull. At first glance the damage appears to be little more than a minor act of vandalism, but closer examination reveals that it almost certainly must have been purposeful. The effect it creates is far too subtle and far too precise to be the result of mere brute force. It appears as though someone set out with the specific intention of altering Sauniere’s portrait so as to suggest the appearance of a skull. What makes this particularly strange is that the relief doesn’t date back to Sauniere’s time, but is a fairly modern addition to his grave. Older photos and footage of the relief do not appear to feature this alteration, so it must have occurred somewhat recently. All of which leads us to ask: If this was intended as a clue, then who left it? Were they trying to say that this is the real “Place of the Skull”? The above-cited examples, when taken together, cause one to associate Rennes-le-Chateau with Golgotha, and therefore the Cave of Treasures. Could this really constitute Berenger Sauniere’s great secret: that the Cave of Treasures can be found at Rennes-le-Chateau? And was his map genuinely the final piece of a fantastic puzzle to which he devoted the greater part of his adult life? Though such an hypothesis is certainly outrageous, it is no less so than countless other aspects of this saga, which (more often than not) border on the bizarre. It is certainly consistent with a great deal of the evidence we have uncovered - evidence which other authors have been at a loss to explain. And too, this hypothesis finds support in many of the long-standing legends of Rennes-le-Chateau and its surrounding environs, stating that an ancient sacred king lies buried here. It also matches up with the clues hinting that in the aftermath of a deluge, an ark came to rest here, navigated (once again) by a sacred king. Although many people who consider themselves enlightened routinely dismiss any biblical tale as being pure mythology, we have learned

repeatedly that there exists a realm where myth and history intersect. Even the most wildly mythic tales can often be found to have had their origin in some factual incident. However imbued with symbolism, a good many of the biblical stories that have come down to us are based on some historical prototype, involving real events, real people, and real places. This being the case, what evidence do we have to contradict the thesis that certain of these events may have in fact occurred in the south of France? By in large, popular opinion concerning the events discussed, where they occurred, or even if they occurred, is a matter of belief. It is our belief that the Cave of Treasures is a real place, and that it lies hidden deep beneath Rennes-le-Chateau, or someplace nearby. The evidence which has lead us to this conclusion is admittedly strange, yet it is possessed of a fierce inner logic. There are a number of details, both in The Book of the Cave of Treasures, and in other esoteric texts, which seem utterly illogical except in the context of our hypothesis. The location of the Cave of Treasures is described as “to the northwest” of the Holy Land. But a glance at a map will reveal that there is nothing but ocean northwest of Israel. However, if one were to draw a straight line going in a northwesterly direction from Israel, it would ultimately intersect with the Languedoc region of France. In a reference to Cain exiting Paradise, it was stated that he fled to “the forests” East of Eden. In the area of Turkey presumed by biblical scholars to be the historic setting of the Eden story, there are no forests. The landscape is arid, desolate, and strewn with volcanic rubble. Head due east of Rennes-le-Chateau however, and you will run into the forests at the foot of the Alps. It was said that one of the first things which Noah did upon coming down from the Ark was to plant grapes “to press into new wine.” The region around Mount Ararat is not exactly renowned for its vineyards. Rennesle-Chateau, however, is virtually surrounded by vineyards. For perhaps fifty miles in every direction, wine production seems to be the primary industry. There are Templar wines, Cathar wines, and even a brand featuring Berenger Sauniere on the label. While such examples may fall well short of constituting compelling proof, they are nonetheless intriguing snippets of anecdotal evidence which support our thesis while seeming anomalous in the context of traditional opinion. 4

The Vessel of God.

If you travel around the edges of Europe from the North to the West, and then from the West to the South, you will encounter towns that seem to have Mesopotamian place-names. You will encounter peoples and cultures whose folkways differ from those of the nations in which they exist. Often such peoples live in close proximity to the sacred sites of megalithic times. In Brittany, the Bretons will tell you that they are not French. In the Basque region, the locals maintain that they are not Spaniards. In Sintra, Portugal, the inhabitants claim that they are “different” than other Portugese. In the Aquitaine region of the Languedoc, the story is much the same. So too, is what these varying people all assert: that they come from a far more ancient race than their fellow nationals

from outside the region. All of this is very consistent with our primary thesis: that there are certain locales in Europe which retain vestiges of Sumer-Atlantean origins. Or, perhaps rather, that these places were once outposts of the Atlantean empire. In Rennes-le-Chateau there are names which seem to specifically link the region to both Sumer and the Grail. Take for example, “Mount Cardou”, which can easily translate in Sumerian to “Mountain of the Vessel of God.” As we have stated, in a number of ancient tongues, the words “kar”, “kur”, “gar”, and “gur” meant “vessel.” The Sumerian words “di” and “de” were roots of the Greek “dios”, the Latin “deus”, the French “dieu”, and so on: all terms meaning “god.” And as we have explained previously, the word “Graal” translates to “Vessel of God” as well. Similarly, the name of nearby Montsegur (“Mon-Sag-Ur”) translates as “the Mountain of God’s Vessel.” In fact, the term “vessel of God” recurs incessantly in regards to key aspects of this mystery. 5

The theme of “Arcadia”, the ancient Greek version of Eden, has played an ongoing role in our researches, and we have already demonstrated that this term too means “Vessel of God.” Likewise, we have shown that the ancient Middle Eastern name for “Eden”, “Kharsag”, means “Vessel of God”, and “Chaldea”, the homeland of Abraham, can be rendered such as well. Even the word “garden”, so associated with Eden, can be shown to mean “Vessel of the Lord of All.” The “Vessel of God” concept embodies the Grail as both a sacred bloodline and a secret doctrine. It represents both the bloodline of the deified kings of the antediluvian world and the Gnosis they preserved - vestiges of the Golden Age. Thus, understandably, this phrase is found preserved in the names and places connected to this bloodline - places often associated with the primordial source. As a doctrine or idea, the Vessel of God is undoubtedly bound up with the science which constituted the secret Gnosis of the Watchers the sacred geometry that is a reflection (or emanation) of the divine. It is the Grail as a symbol of the elemental divine harmony according to which all things are ordered, but from which man has fallen 6

7

The word “religion” comes from “religio”, which means “going back to the source.” No more apt words could be found to describe the quest for the Grail: a return to the source; a rediscovery of the ancient principles which once served as the axis mundi of man’s life, and by which his perceptions, thoughts and deeds were defined; a rediscovery of principles believed to possess the power to bring man into accord with the mind of God. For the last few millennia (or more), man has been incapable of “going back to the source.” As the Priory of Sion asserts, even the ancient Greeks possessed no memory of where their gods originated. Modern Christians have even less awareness of their faith’s origins. The archetype of Christ as a dying and resurrected messiah was undoubtedly an ancient concept even in the time of Jesus. If mankind holds out any hope of revisiting the primordial source and becoming reacquainted with what it means, perhaps the key to it all lays interred in the Cave of Treasures. 8

In the course of our research we have traced the underground stream back through the history of mankind, and have come as near to the source as is humanly possible at this point in time. We have resolved many mysteries and

solved puzzling conundrums. We have had the great fortune to be able to provide answers to a good many outstanding questions. Many of the questions that remain will only be answered upon the excavation of the Cave of Treasures. And what awaits us there? Undoubtedly, everything that we have thus far hinted at, and perhaps much more. The cave may house a vast necropolis containing the bodies of mankind’s earliest kings - men who were the prototypes of our ancestors’ gods. It may hold an archive or library of information, the knowledge of which could lead to a complete rethinking of the history of our planet, and who we are as a species. It goes without saying that the ancient “mysteries of the Church” said to be secreted away there probably have little to do with orthodox religion. The rediscovery of the primordial faith of mankind could very well be the greatest treasure of all: a tangible means of “going back to the source.”

The 22 Code

So where is the entrance to the Cave of Treasures? We may know the answer. Very early on in the course of our investigation, we stumbled upon what seemed like the solution to one of the central mysteries of Rennes-le-Chateau: “the 22 code.” Throughout Sauniere’s church and its grounds, the number 22 is repeatedly encoded into things. Words are purposely misspelled so as to contain twenty-two letters. The Tour Magdala has twenty-two crenels. The skull at the entrance to the cemetery has twenty-two teeth. Researchers have gone to absurd lengths trying to divine the occult significance of the number 22, producing obtuse “explanations” which in fact explain nothing at all. We wondered if a simpler, more straightforward approach might be in order. We had noticed that the church and its surroundings seemed to be infused with symbolism pointing towards duality, or indeed, redundancy. There were two Christs on Sauniere’s pulpit, and two baby Christs at the front of the church (one held by Joseph, the other by Mary. The name of the Tour Magdala is also a redundancy, as the name “Magdala” means “tower.” Why would someone with Sauniere’s sophistication name one of his key constructions “Tower Tower” unless it was an indication of something? Bearing this strange theme of duality in mind, we wondered if perhaps the 22 code could mean that we should look for two sets of two. Almost immediately, we could think of a number of such sets: statues and other constructions around the domain that seemed to mirror or echo one another on some symbolic level. Enlarging a map of the church and its grounds, we marked the sets of landmarks. We proceeded to draw lines through the points indicated, extending the lines across the map. When we were finished, we had five sets of lines, all of which intersected at precisely the same point. A strange coincidence? Hardly. We had followed obvious clues that had been purposely left by Sauniere. We had interpreted evidence according to the simplest possible means: logic. And as it appeared, we had gotten results. From

the very onset, we had felt instinctively that the mystery of Rennes-le-Chateau held something of far greater import than a mere treasure. Whatever lies buried beneath the spot on the map revealed by the 22 code holds the key to a great secret. We now believe that this location might very well conceal the entrance a tunnel system leading to the Cave of Treasures. At the time that we discovered this location several years ago, we posted an open letter to the Mayor of Rennes-le-Chateau on the internet, offering to share our information with him or anyone else who might be in a position to investigate this lead under official auspices. This offer still stands. We have had to be deliberately vague about the specific location, owing to our concern that the sort of treasure hunters who have repeatedly vandalized Rennes-leChateau in the past would undoubtedly put such information to bad use. So, for the time being, we will seep our secrets, maintain our silence and bide our time. And even if no one ever attempts to excavate the Cave of Treasures, our personal Grail quest will not have been in vain. It was an undertaking that changed us profoundly, leading us to reevaluate everything we thought we knew. It has brought us into contact with ideas and information beyond our wildest imaginings, and provided the opportunity for us to share what we have discovered with others. On that level, our researches have been much akin to the Grail quests of myth and legend. Our search has constituted an initiatory process which in and of itself seems to be a vehicle of transformation. If we never dig up a single gold coin at Rennes-le-Chateau, we will still feel as though we have had our share of its treasure. This strange town has impacted us and enriched us. It will remain for us, always, the center of the Earth.

1 It is claimed that close to three-fourths of his pronouncements have been borne out.

2 According to the text, this book is an amalgamation of the work of “seventy wise writers.”

3 Another use of this imagery shows up in the church courtyard, where a very cave-like grotto made of corral conceals a tiny idol of Mary Magdalen, placed inside of yet again cave-like recess within the grotto’s back wall.

4 Josephus asserts that “Cain traveled over many countries” before he came to the Land of Nod.

5 If Mount Cardou is the location of the tomb of Cain, which is supposedly lit by an inner sun referred to metaphorically as a “rose”, this may explain why the meridian which passes through it is called “the Roseline.”

6 “Chal” is the root of “chalice”, an also of “cauldron.”

7 “Gar’ means “vessel”, while “Dan” means “Lord of All.”

8 Priory of Sion member Paul le Coeur once wrote in his book The Age of Aquarius that, “...when a stream is polluted it is necessary, if you are to find the pure water, to go back to the source. It’s the same with tradition - it only remains pure at its origin.”

Source material: http://www.thevesselofgod.com/ http://www.thevesselofgod.com/home.html http://www.boydrice.com/