I just finished Graham Hancock’s Fingerprints Of The Gods and it left me with an almost overwhelming pall of hopelessness hanging over my head after reading the final chapter “Like A Thief in the Night” and the final sub-headings: “Walking in the last days” and “The end of the world” in which the author recounts his visit to the Hopi Indian Reservation in 1994 up in the high plains of Arizona. Here are Hancock’s last words in his tome:
. . . I had made this journey because the science of prophecy is still believed to be alive among the Hopi: Pueblo Indians, distantly related to the Aztecs of Mexico, whose numbers have been reduced by attrition and misery to barely 10,000. Like the Ancient Maya whose descendants all across the Yucatan are convinced that the end of the world is coming in the year 2000 y pico (and a little), the Hopi believe that we are walking in the last days, with a geological sword of Damocles hanging over US. According to their myths, as we saw in Chapter Twenty-four:
The first world was destroyed, as a punishment for human misdemeanors, by an all-consuming fire that came from above and below. The second world ended when the terrestrial globe toppled from its axis and everything was covered with ice. The third world ended in a universal flood. The present world is the fourth. Its fate will depend on whether or not its inhabitants behave in accordance with the Creator’s plans …
I had come to Arizona to see whether the Hopi thought we were behaving in accordance with the Creator’s plans …
The end of the world
The desolate wind, blowing across the high plains, shook and rattled the sides of the trailer-home we sat in. Beside me was Santha, who’d been everywhere with me, sharing the risks and the adventures, sharing the highs and the lows. Sitting across from us was our friend Ed Ponist, a medical-surgical nurse from Lansing, Michigan. A few years previously Ed had worked on the reservation for a while, and it was thanks to his contacts that we were now here. On my right was Paul Sifki, a ninety-six-year-old Hopi elder of the Spider clan, and a leading spokesman of the traditions of his people. Beside him was his grand-daughter Melza Sifki, a handsome middle-aged woman who had offered to translate.
‘I have heard,’ I said, ‘that the Hopi believe the end of the world is coming. Is this true?’
Paul Sifki was a small, wizened man, nut-brown in colour, dressed in jeans and a cambric shirt. Throughout our conversation he never once looked at me, but gazed intently ahead, as though he were searching for a familiar face in a distant crowd.
Melza put my question to him and a moment later translated her grandfather’s reply: ‘He says, “why do you want to know”?’
I explained that there were many reasons. The most important was that I felt a sense of urgency: ‘My research has convinced me that there was an advanced civilization – long, long ago – that was destroyed in a terrible cataclysm. I fear that our own civilization may be destroyed by a similar cataclysm … ‘
There followed a long exchange in Hopi, then this translation: ‘He said that when he was a child, in the 1900’s, there was a star that exploded – a star that had been up there in the sky for a long while … And he went to his grandfather and asked him to explain the meaning of this sign. His grandfather replied: “This is the way our own world will end – engulfed in
flames … If people do not change their ways then the spirit that takes care of the world will become so frustrated with us that he will punish the world with flames and it will end just like that star ended.” That was what his grandfather said to him – that the earth would explode just like that exploding star … ‘
‘So the feeling is that this world will end in fire … And having viewed the world for the past ninety years, does he believe that the behaviour of mankind has improved or worsened?’
‘He says it has not improved. We’re getting worse.’
‘So in his opinion, then, the end is coming?’
‘He said that the signs are already there to be seen … He said that nowadays nothing but the wind blows and that all we do is have a weapon pointed at one another. That shows how far apart we have drifted and how we feel towards each other now. There are no values any more – none at all – and people live any way they want, without morals or laws. These are the
signs that the time has come … ‘
Melza paused in her translation, then added on her own account: ‘This terrible wind. It dries things out. It brings no moisture. The way we see it, this kind of climate is a consequence of how we’re living today – not just
us, but your people as well.’
I noticed that her eyes had filled with tears while she was talking. ‘I have a cornfield,’ she continued, ‘that’s really dry. And I look up into the sky and try to pray for rain, but there is no rain, no clouds even … When we’re like this we don’t even know who we are.’
There was a long moment of silence and the wind rocked the trailer, blowing hard and steady across the mesa as evening fell around us.
I said quietly, ‘Please ask your grandfather if he thinks that anything can now be done for the Hopi and for the rest of mankind?’
‘The only thing he knows,’ Melza replied when she had heard his answer, ‘is that so long as the Hopi do not abandon their traditions they may be able to help themselves and to help others. They have to hold on to what they believed in the past. They have to preserve their memories. These are the most important things … But my grandfather wants to tell
you also, and for you to understand, that this earth is the work of an intelligent being, a spirit – a creative and intelligent spirit that has designed everything to be the way it is. My grandfather says that nothing is here just by chance, that nothing happens by accident – whether good or bad – and that there is a reason for everything that takes place … ‘
At the millstone grinding
When human beings from around the globe, and from many different cultures, share a powerful and overwhelming intuition that a cataclysm is approaching, we are within our rights to ignore them. And when the voices of our distant ancestors, descending to us through myths and sacred architecture, speak to us of the physical obliteration of a great civilization in remote antiquity (and tell us that our own civilization is in jeopardy), we are entitled, if we wish, to stop our ears …
So it was, the Bible says, in the antediluvian world: ‘For in those days, before the Flood, people were eating, drinking, taking wives, taking husbands, right up to the moment that Noah went into the Ark, and they suspected nothing till the flood came and swept all away.’
In the same manner it has been prophesied that the next global destruction will fall upon us suddenly “at an hour we do not suspect, like lightning striking in the east and flashing far into the west … The sun will be darkened, the moon will lose its brightness, the stars will fall from the sky and the powers of heaven will be shaken … Then of two men in the fields, one is taken, one left; and of two women at the millstone grinding, one is taken, one left …”
What has happened before can happen again. What has been done before can be done again.
And perhaps there is, indeed, nothing new under the sun …
The thread that runs through and connects the pages of Graham’s book weaves a fabric upon which is painted a prophetic picture for our generation specifically that warns of impending disaster for our world and its population based simply on a cosmic clock ticking away the centuries and millennia over the past 12,500 years since a highly advanced civilization was all but wiped off the face of the earth by a cataclysm. That civilization was known as Atlantis and is now believed to be buried beneath a two-mile thick cap of ice. Today that island continent is called Antarctica. Buried with it are the historical records of what this civilization did that brought about its destruction in literally the blinking of an eye – like a thief in the night. It is likely we will never know the secret buried beneath those two miles of ice. An ancient lost civilization frozen in time and preserved till the day the ice melts and reveals its secrets.
Those who survived the cataclysm – the elite wealthy maritime intellectuals of Atlantis who knew what was adrift long before the pendulum struck the hour of doom when the hammer fell – made their way to various parts of the world that had suffered little damage, including the Nile Delta where they built the pyramids of Egypt and the Sphinx as geodetic markers in the Age of Leo the Lion to leave behind a mathematically precise architectural monument showing to scale the geographical points and the shape and size of the earth.
The survivors of the Deluge also left messages carved in stone which point to our day – when the sun rises on the Winter Solstice in the House of the constellation of Sagittarius at the South Gate of the Milky Way Galaxy between 1960 and 2040 AD – and when the pendulum of the cosmic clock strikes the hour when the hammer will likely fall again on the civilizations of man. It is also the dawning of the Age of Aquarius which guards the North Gate of the Milky Way Galaxy. As I wrote about in a previous post, this is also designated in Mayan cosmology as “the place of creation.”
We ignore the myths of our ancient ancestors to our peril. The dawn of a New Day lightens the horizon. It’s time to wake up and face the harvest of our sowing days as it spreads ugly before us. We’ve run into a concrete wall and there’s no way to go forward – only up and over it. It’s the way Gaia is going – up, up and away!
I leave you with this timely video message: “If we do not wish to die, then we must evolve.”
Barbara Mor reads from “The Great Cosmic Mother”