INTRODUCTION:
APPROACHES TO A PROBLEM
“This weapon can slay any being within the three worlds, including Indra and Rudra. ”
The Mahabharata1
Giants. Nephilim.
Annunaki. Colliding planets and the Exploding Planet Hypothesis.
Cosmic catastrophe. Comets. Angels. Demons. War in Heaven. The Fall
of Lucifer. Wars of the Gods. Ancient epics. Ancient advanced
technology. Artificial moons. Miscegenation, genetic engineering,
and chimeras. The Face on Mars. Out of place artifacts. And last
but surely not least... ...Atlantis.
For most people,
these things are unrelated. But for me, the sense has always
lingered in the corners of my mind that they were and are somehow
all connected, that they are all somehow part of one “something,”
components of one all-encompassing scenario, a scenario of epic historical and indeed
cosmic proportions.
Readers of my
Giza Death Star trilogy will already be
familiar with my weapons hypothesis for the Great Pyramid, and be
aware as well of the scenario advanced there that some very ancient
and sophisticated weapon of mass destruction might have been used to explode the now missing
planet(s) of the solar system where the asteroid belt now orbits
our sun, grim remnants and reminders of some ancient planet
“Krypton.” And most readers of that trilogy will likewise be aware
of the fact that I believe the Great Pyramid - or something similar
and based upon similar “scalar” physics conceptions - might have been the weapon deployed to do
it.
But it is to be
emphasized that there are massive problems with this
all-encompassing and highly speculative scenario, and readers of
that trilogy will be aware of some of them. Needless to say, many
of these problems are chronological in nature. But there are other
equally weighty problems, and I deliberately left these unexplored
in the Giza Death Star trilogy, leaving
them for another book: this one.
My reason for doing
so was rather simple: I thought that to burden those already
technical books with a lengthy examination of the scenario of an
ancient interplanetary war and its ongoing consequences would
detract from the main emphasis of those books, since such a
scenario, while pertinent to the Weapon Hypothesis of the
Great Pyramid, is not necessary to it. The
Giza Death Star books focused on the type of weaponry used
to fight the war, and secondarily on the war itself as
corroboration that such weaponry once existed. Here the situation
is the converse. Here the focus is on the war itself, and
secondarily on the type of weaponry used to fight it as
corroboration that such cosmic wars in local space were once
fought.
But what are those
“other problems”?
These may be
understood by asking a very simple set of questions: Who fought
this alleged war? Why were they fighting? What weapons did they
use? What were their effects? Who won? Who lost? Who survived? What
was their legacy? And perhaps most importantly, who were the “good
guys,” the “bad guys,” and why were
they “good” or “evil”?
Thus, unlike in my
Giza Death Star trilogy of books, the
emphasis here is on the scenario itself, on the scenario of an
ancient interplanetary war in our own solar system and on its
prolonged perhaps even contemporary consequences. There are, of
course, implications for the hypothesis explored and outlined in
the Giza Death Star trilogy, and
accordingly, some of the material of those books is reprised and
expanded upon here, but only insofar as it is necessary to explore
the scenario itself. Therefore, the reader should bear in mind
throughout the following pages that the two hypotheses
- that of an Ancient
Interplanetary War and that of Great Pyramid as a Weapon of Mass
Destruction — remain separate
hypotheses. They dovetail, to be sure, but they do not stand or
fall together. Indeed, as the reader will eventually learn in the
main body of this work, there is some textual evidence to suggest
that whatever weaponry was once associated with Giza may in fact
lie in an older stratum beneath the current structures at Giza, and
that the present Great Pyramid may be an attempt to reconstruct a
much older weapons technology of hegemony. It will also be apparent
that other types of weaponry than
scalar weaponry, or other modes of
deployment of scalar weaponry — which is my preferred view -
may have been used, not only to blow up planets and other celestial
bodies, but to leave fantastic searing scars on others, to
manipulate weather, and even to manipulate consciousness
itself.
Readers of the
Giza Death Star books will likewise
recall that the hypothesis of a Very High Civilization in
“extremely ancient times” - named “paleoancient” in the
Giza Death Star trilogy by my
intentionally redundant term — was a broad component of the
scenario outlined in those three books. In this book, my occasional
use of the term “Atlantis” is to be understood as a symbol for that Very High and paleoancient
Civilization. Accordingly, I do not intend on entering into lengthy
discussions of the location of the celebrated “lost continent”
other than in those instances where the topic is germane to the
subject under discussion. As has been seen in The Giza Death Star trilogy, there are significant
reasons to take Plato’s story of a “lost continent” in an
“allegorical” sense, in the sense of a “myth” with multiple layers
of meaning, from the prosaic literal sense to carefully crafted
“paleophysical” ones.
Thus, inevitably, we
are led back to the subject of “paleophysics.” The Giza Death Star trilogy contained much discussion
of the speculative possibility that there once existed a
sophisticated “paleophysics” in that paleoancient Very High
Civilization, a physics as sophisticated, if not more so, than our
own theoretical and practical edifice of quantum mechanics,
relativity, string and membrane theory, or alternatively, loop
quantum gravity, plasma cosmology, and so on. Such a view had to be
advanced if one was to seriously entertain what the ancient texts
themselves suggested, namely, that such weapons of mass destruction
existed in very ancient times, and that they were associated
simultaneously with the destruction of planets on the one hand, and
with the capabilities of pyramids in general and the Great Pyramid
in particular.
Here the discussion
of an ancient paleophysics is renewed and expanded upon. Readers of
the first book of that trilogy, The Giza Death
Star, will find here an expansion on the plasma physics and
cosmology of Swedish physicist and Nobel laureate Hannes Alfvén.
Additionally, readers will also find additional material on Tom
Bearden’s “scalar” or “quantum potential” physics as well,
conceptions which were discussed in The Giza
Death Star Deployed, The Giza
Death Star Destroyed, and most recently
in my book on the Nazi secret weapon project known as “the Bell”,
The SS Brotherhood of the Bell.
With all this being
said, a further cautionary note is also necessary. In order to tie
together all the disparate pieces that I believe may form
components of this gigantic scenario of cosmic war and catastrophe,
of giants and chimeras, of “gods” and men and Nephilim, it is
essential to paint in very broad strokes. While I do entertain
discussion of broad chronological and other scientific and
archaeological considerations, I do not enter into lengthy
examinations of disciplines related to and affected by the Cosmic
War hypothesis, such as evolutionary biology, anthropology, or even
theology, philosophy, comparative religion, and esoteric or occult
history. That such fields are affected by this hypothesis should be
obvious. But to discuss each of these implications in detail would
not only require several lengthy tomes in their own right, it would
also distract attention from the main themes of the scenario as
exhibited by the above questions. To ignore them altogether,
however, would be equally precarious. Accordingly, I have only
sparingly indicated such implications in synoptic form either in
the main text or in footnotes, when I think it is appropriate to do
so.
Similarly, I do not
attempt to reconstruct a whole detailed
chronology of an alternative “pre-history” of extraterrestrial
contact, intervention, war, and so on, as does Zechariah Sitchin in
his Earth Chronicles series, for a very
simple reason. The Cosmic War hypothesis has not hitherto been
adequately advanced or explored in its own right, so it would seem
best to ascertain its very broad outlines and progression and to
put them forward here as a kind of prima facie case, and then to
work out the detailed chronology at some later point. It may indeed
be the case that eventually chronological data, once the frame into
which they may be set has been erected, may be easily placed into
it. Or it may likewise be the case that such data may completely
overturn the framework proposed here. Similarly they may suggest an
entirely different framework of the broad progression of the war
than the one I suggest here. In any case, the emphasis here is to
outline the Cosmic War Hypothesis and its supporting textual,
physics, and archaeological evidences in as broad a fashion as
possible.
Consequently, the
Cosmic War scenario as outlined here remains, like the Giza Death Star weapon hypothesis, a hugely speculative hypothesis. It is most decidedly
not a theory. If it is at all true as a theory, then its predictive power must lie in the
fact that it will predict the occurrence of distinctly artificial
artifacts on nearby planetary bodies in our own solar system, and
perhaps of very ancient artificial satellites of planets as well.
Additionally, it will “predict” the occurrence of evidence
indicating deliberate targeting and destruction of these artifacts
and satellites. And finally, it will “predict” the necessity of
observers to record this information in the various forms that have
come down to us, albeit in garbled form. But history, much less
reconstructions of paleoancient history based on mythological
texts, is not science for the very obvious reason that its
“predictions” are always of an a posteriori nature, and thus the cosmic war
hypothesis can remain only a hypothesis. Corroboration can only
come in the total context of external evidence adduced to support
it.
The existence of
observers highlights one aspect of the interpretive problems
associated with this hypothesis. As will be seen in the main body
of this work, human myths and legends abound with details of the
“wars of the gods” and the horrendous weapons with which they were
fought. As such, one must either (1) opt for the “naturalist” and
“materialist” interpretation of such myths along catastrophist
lines, or (2) posit the tremendous antiquity of man in a time frame
lying quite beyond the pale of standard cultural history,
evolutionary theory, anthropology, and paleontology in order for
there to be observers of the events that the texts describe,
or (3) one must posit a precursor race
or species somehow tied to humanity, which bequeathed to mankind
its own observations of this war and catastrophe, which then became
the nuclei for these human myths and legends. As will be evident in
the main body of this book, the myths themselves point to this
third alternative as their own favored explanation. But any way one
views this problem, one has stepped quite outside the pale of the
standard academic models of history, evolution, and
anthropology.
It must therefore be
frankly and bluntly acknowledged that this work is accordingly
not one that would be accepted in any
academic context. It merely makes a case for looking at these myths
as containing real elements of historical and scientific truth in
yet another way: that the “wars of the gods” were real, that they
engendered planetary destruction and catastrophe here on earth and
elsewhere in the solar system, and perhaps even outside it, and
that some of the consequences may still be with us in ways that we
scarcely imagine.
Similarly, the cosmic
war hypothesis is not likely to be met with much enthusiasm among
certain strains of revisionists either. At one end are the
catastrophists best exemplified in the work of Alan Alford and many
others, for whom the whole matrix of conceptions in the complex of
symbols used by myths are nothing more than a metaphor for
naturally occurring explosions of planets. The cosmic war
hypothesis is, needless to say, antithetical to this whole
enterprise. At the other end of the spectrum is the disturbing
tendency in so much alternative literature to paint this putative
paleophysical past in idealistic terms, as a golden age, a warm and
fuzzy “Disneyworld” of “jonquils and daisies” devoid of nasty bad
things like interplanetary wars and their associated technologies.
However, such an attitude simply flies in the face of the
overwhelming preponderance of “cosmic war” traditions from all over
the globe. And this brings us to the nature of the evidence
itself.
Careful consideration
of the questions outlined above, and of the parameters of the
“interplanetary war scenario” itself, will also reveal the
types of
evidence to be considered in this work: (1) physics, (2) the
material evidences of anomalous artifacts, (3) evidences and
mechanisms of planetary destruction, (4) evidences of possible
deliberate targeting and destruction, and finally, and by no means
the least important, (5) textual and “legendary” evidence from
texts, oral myths and traditions, and physical monuments and
ancient glyphs. “Text” in other words is understood in this book in
the broadest sense, as being inclusive of all these
things.
Finally, a word about
how the term “war” is to be understood in this work. When one
normally thinks about this word “war”, one conjures images of
trebuchets, tanks, and triremes, of ballistas and bombards, of
cavalry and cannon, of ships-of-the-line and steel-clad armored
dreadnoughts, of armies, fleets, and more recently, vast aerial
armadas and mushroom clouds, particle beams, high energy lasers and
grasers,2 all clashing and often
annihilating their enemies. In short, one naturally imagines all
the associated technologies of war. It is no different, as we shall
see, with the ancient texts. There too, the ancient texts conjure
images of generals, admirals, political leaders, of heroic deeds
and despicable acts, of the suffering of the innocent, wanton
destruction of property, and most importantly, a technology capable
of the most contemporary interpretation of extreme sophistication.
The ancient texts, as does recent history, conjure images of
city-wide devastation, and of the as yet (and hopefully) only
theoretical regional destruction that might follow even the most
limited nuclear and thermonuclear exchange. As will be seen in the
remainder of this work, I certainly believe the cosmic war scenario
to include these aspects of “war.”
But there are also
more subtle forms of warfare, such as when a “vanquished” party
goes underground to wage a “guerilla war,” complete with secret
cells, passwords, means of recruitment, propaganda and
psychological warfare and all that these things entail. These, too,
are included in my use of the term “war”. Consequently, I mean the
term “cosmic war” in a truly “cosmic” sense inclusive of its spiritual aspects and
ongoing nature, for as any careful consideration of the
texts will demonstrate, this war possessed the characteristics of
an ongoing guerilla that from time to time erupted into wholesale
open hostilities. And as the texts also indicate, some of the
“people” who fought this war, or their descendents, may still be
around. In this respect, “war,” also includes the underlying
concept of the civilization fighting it. So in examining the cosmic
war hypothesis, we are also examining the underlying civilization
and its mores, and this fact may indeed by why the hypothesis has
never been adequately explored by the two strains of revisionists
previously referred to, for it thrusts the philosophical question
of theodicy to the fore, a question totally avoided by
catastrophism which is but a variant of materialism, and by the
golden age warm fuzzies and Disneyworld “jonquils and daisies”
approach, which is but a variant of wishful thinking.
In fact, as I
suggested in my book The GiZa Death Star
Destroyed,, the paleoancient war was not only the fertile
seeding ground for the many versions of catastrophism (including
that version which views it as a regular cycle), but also the soil
that germinated and nurtured the ancient mystery cults and
eventually the secret societies and priesthoods that succeeded
them. The “cosmic war,” as many religious traditions - especially
the Judeo-Christian - have alluded, is an ongoing one. But as will
become equally clear, that latter tradition may itself have erred
somewhat by viewing that “warfare” as an exclusively “spiritual” or
even “personal” one, without considering the possibility that it
was also a very real war in a very real cosmic sense fought in very
real places by very real persons who possessed very real
technologies. It is, after all, only
our modern outlook that opposes the spiritual and the physical, but
such an opposition would have been foreign to the ancient frame of
mind, and would seem to be at complete variance with the broad
sense of the Christian tradition’s own legacy of
sacramentalism.
One may perhaps now
appreciate the magnitude of the task presently before us, for not
only are so many disparate themes and subjects - as outlined in the
opening paragraph - possible components of this scenario, but many
discrete types of evidence must be adduced and synthesized in a
convincing fashion to support it. Consequently, on any number of
levels the scenario may be rightly and strongly challenged, from
the weight accorded to different types of evidence, to the
interpretation put upon them, to the broad picture that emerges, to
the chronological - and more importantly spiritual and theological
- questions it raises.
For these reasons it
must be reiterated - here, now, and in the strongest possible
fashion - that the highly speculative and indeed radical scenario
outlined here is only hypothetical,
dwelling in that foggy gray area between ancient science fiction,
and the disturbing question “Yes, but what if it were true, even if
only in parts?”
When I first began
this line of research and writing a few years ago with my book, The
GiZa Death Star, I included as an
epigraph to the Preface of that book a statement allegedly made by
the physicist Nils Bohr to his colleague Werner Heisenberg, one of
the main architects of modern quantum mechanical theory, and
discoverer of the Uncertainty Principle which is named after him.
It seems fitting to close this preface with that same remark, and
to suspend it over the totality of this work as a reminder of its
radical and speculative nature: “Sir, we’re all agreed your theory
is crazy. The question that divides us is, whether it is crazy
enough.”1,2
Joseph P.
Farrell
2007
2007