Tuesday, June 29, 2021

13,678. RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,188

RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,188
(as an echo, in a distant canyon)
It's always baffled me how
people will believe any fantasy -
ungrounded and fantastic, yes -
but turn their face away from
any pure reality at all. It can be
staring them right in the face,
but if their upbringing and all
the old strictures have instructed
them differently, they stick by
those. It goes on and on, a
million times: Enoch, Genesis,
Bible, Physics, Archaeology,
Ezekiel, Lamentations, etc.
So much, I suppose, for 
everything else too  - Truth, 
Justice, and the 'American'
way. Dream on, Alice.
-
The bitter end of Sumer and the
other great urban centers is described
in numerous Lamentations texts;
[I mean, people, it is ALL there
for you]. Long poems that bewail
the demise of Ur, Nippur, Uruk,
Eridu, and the other famed lands
and less famed cities of Biblical
lore. Typical of the calamities
that befell the once prosperous
and prosperous land are those 
listed in the 'Lamentation over
the Destruction of Ur,' a long
poem of some 440 verses, of
which here are a few: 'The city
into ruins was made, the people
groan. Its people, not potsherds,
filled its ravines...its lofty gates,
where they were wont to promenade;
dead bodies lay about. Where the
festivities of the land took place,
the people lay in heaps. The young
were lying in their mothers' laps
like fish carried out of the waters.
The counsel of the land was dissipated.
In the storehouses that abounded in
the land, fires were kindled, the ox
in the stable has not been attended
and gone is its herdsman. The sheep
in its fold has not been attended, and
gone is its shepherd boy. In the rivers
of the city, dust has gathered. Fox dens
they have become and in the city's
fields there is no grain. Gone is the 
fieldworker, as the palm groves and
the vineyards with honey and wine
abounded, now bring forth but only
mountain thorns. Precious metals
and stones, lapis lazuli, have been
scattered about. The temple of Ur
has been given over to the wind. The
song has been turned into weeping,
and Ur has been given over to tears.
What the lamentation texts deal with
is the is NOT the successive but 
separate destruction of Sumer's 
cities by invaders from the west,
east, and north  - as today's flaccid
scholars suggest - but the one, single,
countrywide calamity that was an
unusual catastrophe and a sudden
disaster against which no protection,
no defense, no hiding, was possible.
(This view, as well, of a single and
over-riding catastrophe, is, by the 
way, now increasingly accepted by 
scholars). 'Man' does not live by
faith alone!' That calamity was 
linked to the 'upheavaling' of the
'evil cities' and the spaceport in 
the west. It was the unexpected
development of an atmospheric
vacuum that created an immense
whirlwind and a storm that carried
the radioactive cloud eastward,
to wards Sumer. (When first
civilization dies out).
-
It all seems quite clear to me,
and I can never understand  -  as
I mentioned  - why people have
so little belief, except as allegories
and 'parables' for what their own
sacred books profess. I won't go
on about it here except to affirm
that I have this knowledge, it is
from afar, and it has been given
to me and runs through me, as a
reckoning force and my own 
creative vein; which I mine 
constantly. We  -  and our world  -
are the offspring of alien beings,
conveniently disguised now as
myths, legends and Gods. There
have been three over-turnings,
of which Biblical legends only
partially and unclearly see and
tell. Before these, first, were the
more ancient and ore clear 
renderings  -  The Vedas, the
Gilgamesh tales, the Obliteration,
the Erra epic. I simply cannot
understand why people ignore all
this and, instead, take some odd
offense from the fact that all of
their practices and civilizations
and histories have come from
travelers from afar. Life, my dear
friends, is not at all what it has
been made out to be.
-
This all began for me one day, long
ago, in a time of hazy recognition
as my spiritual self was re-entering
some damaged physical self after
spending a goodly period of time
in a coma  -  from being struck by
a train. I can tell you more, but
my pages are already tired, and
the faint ink grows only moreso
as it lingers. As an echo, in a
distant cavern. All I ask is that
you hear me out. The prevailing
fact is that we are a secondary race,
in our third go-round. We have
destroyed twice by our own 'Gods'
who had created us as slaves to
mine their gold and silvers, learn
their needed metallurgy, and work
for them. Their various returns
and comings and goings, and
all the now-distorted tales of
their beings and presences and
'adventures' have, over millenia,
twisted them into physical and
then not physical attributions to be
both feared and worshipped. They 
travelled our skies in the various
spacecraft, and passed by and
from us often. Living and breeding
among us. And, in nuclear devastations
and floods, they have destroyed us,
twice already and a third coming.
-
You may worship what you will,
but be careful what you wish for.
Read it and weep. 






No comments: