| I think Porphyry knew this material well. In between the time Vallee wrote Passport to Magonia in 1969 and the time he wrote Messengers of Deception in 1979, John Keel wrote what I believe are the most prophetic words ever written. I think John Keel was exceptionally well tuned in when he wrote, in The Eighth Tower: “In a few years, perhaps even in our lifetime, all sciences will suddenly converge at a single point, and the mysteries of the superspectrum will unravel in our hands. We will finally understand – truly understand- the forces that have directed our destinies throughout history. But it will be a costly discovery. Organized religion will crumble in the face of the new knowledge. Many of the religious and political fictions that have nourished us during the long night will collapse. The beams of energy that now stride our landscape like a giant on stilts may fade away when the entire population has been programmed and reprogrammed. Folklorists, mythologists, and historians will have to throw away all of their learned interpretations when they realize that man has substituted myth for history and history for myth.” (14) Now talk about cryptic and revelatory, John Keel makes an even more prophetic statement when he discusses the concept of what “God” would be if god were described in its abilities: “God or the God-like force would be at the highest point of the superspectrum; energy vibrating at an incalculable frequency, storing all information in negative and positive charges, and operating with an intelligence so refined and so all-encompassing it defies description. Like a computer, it would be without compassion or emotion as it manipulates all the physical components in the universe from microbes and ants to whole galaxies, it would be capable of changing frequencies at will, descending down the spectrum, manipulating energy masses into the lower EM spectrum, creating matter, even living things, from energy. Hairy monsters, bug-eyed spacemen, loathsome things, and shining angels would all be its handiwork, its way of reaching down and communicating with us. The entities thus created would have no identity of their own, no past and no future. They would come from outside of time and space, forever repeating the cryptic statement, “We are One.” (15) The Cloud Messenger The Cloud messenger is an ancient Indian poem by Kalidasa from 400 AD, which features imagery which seem to associate clouds, UFOs and mushrooms all together. The following is a brief summary from the web: “This plan is slight and fanciful. A demigod, in consequence of some transgression against his master, the god of wealth, is condemned to leave his home in the Himalayas, and spend a year of exile on a peak in the Vindhya Mountains, which divide the Deccan from the Ganges basin. He wishes to comfort and encourage his wife, but has no messenger to send her. In his despair, he begs a |
passing cloud to carry his words. He finds it necessary to describe the long journey which the cloud must take, and, as the two termini are skilfully chosen, the journey involves a visit to many of the spots famous in Indian story. The description of these spots fills the first half of the poem. The second half is filled with a more minute description of the heavenly city, of the home and bride of the demigod, and with the message proper.” The poem is quite long, and very beautiful. Space considerations as they are, the poem can be read complete online. I’ve selected the most relevant portions for review. (11) And when they hear thy welcome thunders break, When mushrooms sprout to greet thy fertile weeks, The swans who long for the Himalayan lake Will be thy comrades to Kailasa's peaks, With juicy bits of lotus-fibre in their beaks. (15) Bright as a heap of flashing gems, there shines Before thee on the ant-hill, Indra's bow; Matched with that dazzling rainbow's glittering lines, Thy sombre form shall find its beauties grow, Like the dark herdsman Vishnu, with peacock-plumes aglow. (18) With ripened mango-fruits his margins teem; And thou, like wetted braids, art blackness quite; When resting on the mountain, thou wilt seem Like the dark nipple on Earth's bosom white, For mating gods and goddesses a thrilling sight. (20) Where thick rose-apples make the current slow, Refresh thyself from thine exhausted state With ichor-pungent drops that fragrant flow; Thou shalt not then to every wind vibrate Empty means ever light, and full means added weight. (43) There change thy form; become a cloud of flowers With heavenly moisture wet, and pay the meed Of praise to Skanda with thy blossom showers; That sun-outshining god is Shiva's seed, Fire-born to save the heavenly hosts in direst need. (48) Then veil the Hallowed Land in cloudy shade; Visit the field where to this very hour Lie bones that sank beneath the soldier's blade, Where Arjuna discharged his arrowy shower On men, as thou thy rain-jets on the lotus-flower. (49) Sweet friend, drink where those holy waters shine Which the plough-bearing hero--loath to fight His kinsmen--rather drank than sweetest wine With a loving bride's reflected eyes alight; Then, though thy form be black, thine inner soul is bright. (14) Eighth Tower, p. 255 (15) ibid, p. 97 |