The north-south axis (31 degrees east of Greenwich) is the longest land meridian, and the east-west axis (30 degrees north) is the longest land parallel on the globe.
This post’s draft -which I have been tinkering with for a week- was always going to open with that fun little factoid.
Then, synchronicitously, after a pub lunch discussion instigated by my partner regarding what we should do with all this extra annual leave we have owing -either Egypt or an Amazonian ayahuasca tour- I return home to see there is a new documentary kicking around the internet in the whisky rant genre.
(Egypt it is, then. Thanks IOTA!)
Like almost every example of pseudohistorical exploration, the documentary starts with a smoking gun that utterly obliterates the orthodox version of history… and then proceeds to elect itself mayor of crazy town in a landslide victory by ultimately finishing up on some spectacularly wrong conclusions.
(You should still watch it, of course. Their analysis of how the Ancient Egyptians came to use a cubit as a unit of measurement is fascinating. And if you like it, go and buy Graham Hancock’s Heaven’s Mirror, as the film relies so heavily on his research that it borders on plagiarism. Except its astronomical conclusions are much weaker.)
The thing is… the Giza complex doesn’t actually need the mayoral crazy town conclusions to make it a firefly.
Regardless of its purpose, the Great Pyramid’s precise cross section of land alone makes it a firefly. Situating it there would require an understanding of the geography of the entire planet we currently assume the Ancient Egyptians didn’t have.
You could call it a coincidence if you couldn’t be bothered thinking about it except… except… you are still left with the dizzying amount of mathematical implications of the Great Pyramid’s mass and dimensions -including an indisputable understanding of the Golden Ratio, Pi and the circumference of the earth. (The documentary points out that if the dimensions were off by 50cm almost none of the geographic or mathematic correspondences would work.)
Just this single fact -its latitudinal and longitudinal placement- is enough to break the dominant narrative. And a break in the narrative is what constitutes a firefly. (Fireflies are Gnostic suicide bombs.)
Here’s another fact from a few hundred feet away:
The stone that the Sphinx is carved from is severely water-eroded, meaning the youngest it could possibly be is 7000 years old -the last time the plateau had sufficient rainfall to cause this kind of damage. Here’s what a world expert in limestone erosion had to say in response to orthodox claims that such an early age puts it two and a half thousand years before the Old Kingdom and is thus wrong:
… I don’t really see it as being my problem as a geologist. I’m not seeking to shift the burden. But it’s really up to Egyptologists and archaeologists to figure out who carved it. If my findings are in conflict with their theory about the rise of civilisation then maybe it’s time to evaluate that theory. I’m not saying the Sphinx was built by Atlanteans, or people from Mars, or extra-terrestrials. I’m just following the science where it leads me, and it leads me to conclude that the Sphinx was built much earlier than previously thought.
So that’s another firefly -another puncture in the dominant narrative, in the so-called story of mankind that Archon University (academia) seems so fixated on draining of all magic… like blood from a cadaver.
You don’t have to rebuild a completely new narrative when you encounter a firefly. It’s efficacy is instant, not slow-burn. You just have to acknowledge that the unknown, more accurate narrative is a whole lot bigger.
Because building a bigger narrative on a foundation of too few fireflies tips you into crazy town, where each ‘least worst’ option is crazier than the last. Here are a few for the Giza complex:
- Spirit teachers
- Inherent mental abilities we no longer regularly use
- The physical existence of the lost civilisations of legend and myth
- Lottery winning levels of coincidence never before seen in the history of mankind
These are all largely unhelpful. That’s the way it is with explanations.
Implications are better.
Whichever way you cut it, the implications arising from the fact of the alignment paint a picture of a much, much bigger world.
What is it about humans that we must have The Answer for everything?
(Sidebar: That was rhetorical but, amusingly, if you are looking for The Answer as to why we always need The Answer it’s likely because pattern recognition -even false pattern recognition- is an evolutionary advantage when foraging for food. Monkey brain strikes again.)
I have been here before. Implications turn my crank more than theories or worldviews.
In fact, if I were looking for an identifying mental proclivity for chaos magicians -the proverbial wild goose chase- this would be high up the shortlist.
Like so many of you I’m sure, my earliest adolescent forays into magic are intimately associated with an enduring fascination for Ancient Egypt. Whilst studying Old Kingdom burial customs in high school I went a little off piste and encountered these fireflies for the first time.
And it was obsession at first sight.
Everything else; the HSC, regular sleeping patterns, whatever was happening on Dawson’s Creek at the time… it all just fell away like cooked chicken off the bone.
How could any of these silly little human concerns be of significance when in fact the canvas I was painting on went from the size of a regional Australian coal mining town to the size of galaxies?
This realisation set off a chain reaction that led to me dragging my father across the Pacific looking for (and finding) sunken cities and strange pictographic sequences that point to a heretofore unacknowledged pan-pacific economy/culture that just isn’t in the standard story of the world. (Yes, my Magus-itis presented with atypical symptoms. But I figure it’s like chicken pox. It’s better to catch it early and keep that immunity for the rest of your life. It’s definitely more dangerous as you get older.)
Here’s what I like about pseudohistory, here’s why I find these particular fireflies so intoxicating:
It’s like getting to the end of a jigsaw and having one piece left and one space left in the puzzle. Except the piece you have left doesn’t fit into that last remaining space.
What does that mean?
It means is the picture you have created -however pretty, however complete- is wrong.
I don’t know what the picture is supposed to look like. no one does. but I do know that the jigsaw picture of our existence isn’t correct because this fucking piece doesn’t fit in the fucking hole!
Which leads us inexorably to Frater Gump’s definition of magic: Magic is a box of single jigsaw pieces from a thousand thousand different puzzles.
This is why I put practical enchantment on equal -and oftentimes higher- footing than classical theurgy. Because every time you demonstrate to yourself that magic works in the world your universe gets bigger. A new oddly-shaped puzzle piece materialises above the box and clatters down onto the others.
Each time your silly little luck spell increases your good fortune, each time your card reading shows up the family member that is turning toxic behind your back, each time the money spell gets you promoted it’s like discovering that Giza’s coordinates are just fucking weird.
And the thing about Giza is the “real” answer is buried so long ago. We’ll never have it. We’ll never get it right. Your answer will be wrong. Wrong! (For the record, I like option 3 because it more easily encompasses all the other options. Even though it’s probably mostly 4.)
Your magical explanations are equally as wrong. They just are. Your sorcerous answers are way off base. How could they not be? But that’s not a reason to stop enchanting, that’s a reason to enchant more. Not because we will ever get less wrong, but because we will get better at being wrong.
This is also why I subscribe to everyone who comments on this blog. Everyone. Let’s be wrong together.
Because it’s not about the explanations. It’s about the fireflies, yeah?