Esoteric Hebrewism? (Or, Atonist Abrahamism?) – According to Brian!

As serendipitously-gleaned intelligence has undoubtedly been of ongoing importance in Brian’s mystically-inspired existence, I somehow sensed that this idiosyncrasy would eventually oblige me to write a sequel to my article, Good Shepherds? (No, Incorrigible Crooks!) – It being my steadfast wont to handle such literary business on his behalf! So, fellow travellers, please bear with me, as I relate his rather astonishing, etymological and ethnological treatise on Hebrewism, which even I, Brian’s lifelong companion, when originally learning about it, found hard to believe – But, believe it I now do!    

Consequential to Brian effectively becoming an inspector of mankind, following his 1980 mystical-initiation, he’d never ceased seeking solace from recorded history to support the primary revelations emanating from this initiation process, these being that: Death is an illusion: We will evolve life-after-life to a state of deification and conscious perfection here on Earth, providing we can eventually gain accord with cosmic harmony: And, above all, the biblical story of Jesus and Mary was simply based on the Ancient Egyptian myth of Horus and Isis, and not a lot to do with Christed life-after-life consciousness. Needless to say, perhaps, Brian had found little to support such thinking and had sadly concluded that if any of it had been known to seers in the past, it had been so deliberately suppressed by every self-serving power there’d been over the ages that it was little wonder the poor, ignorant sod in the street just didn’t really stand an earthly – As Brian so poetically put it!

However, eventually, with the advent of Internet, this was to change, and slowly, slowly, more and more evidence appeared therein to debunk our deviously-documented human history and illumine our well-corrupted mind-sets. Much of this thinking had indeed been known for millennia, and Brian had no longer felt isolated in his mission to blaze abroad what he rightly thought to be his truth concerning our deified conscious being. His efforts had therefore continued apace, incorporating corroborative evidence in so doing; and I feel no need to elaborate on this, as the many articles on this CCC site and his associated sites ought to speak for themselves. Recently, however, Brian had been given good reason to seriously ponder over just what had really given rise to all the secrecy, symbolism and duplicity that had proliferated throughout the ages and subsequently given birth to the dire, materialistic and almost spiritual-less condition of today’s human world. Documentary evidence had come to light to modulate his previous thinking about the Hebrews, and therefore what I’d written in my last article: He’d learnt that the Hebrew language had probably originated millennia before the so-called Hebrews of the bible had even existed. Rightly or wrongly, and he believes it more than likely right than wrong, the cause of our present problems, perhaps unwittingly, though, had started after a tribe of ancient esoterists, seers and sages had to abandon what is now known as Ireland, during the ice-age, moving south-east, and began spreading their innate pearls of wisdom to the rest of the undeveloped world. What they were then known as is anyone’s guess - maybe Ibrians, Brian joked - but one thing that seems certain after etymological research and has been expounded by other scholars seeking the truth is that the language these elitists founded and utilized to secretly preserve their wisdom had indeed been Hebrew, and this of course was many millennia before Abraham, the Hebrew patriarch, if he ever existed, had become a twinkle in his father’s eye!

Skip a few millennia, and what do we find? Advanced civilizations that seem to have sprung up like magic in the Middle-East, notably in Ancient Egypt, so-called Land of the Gods, where the Great Pyramid and Sphinx still defy attempts to decipher their true purpose and explain just how they had managed to be created with such architectural, zodiacal and mathematical precision. With this in mind, I will now list supporting evidence for the above concept: These ancient monuments had figured notably in his 1980 initiation: It was this advanced civilization, according to reliable documentation, that for millennia had been a peaceful and well-settled one, operating under the auspices of Amun-Ra, the most widely-revered of its pantheon of mythical gods: And there is little doubt from statuary and mummified evidence that its ancient rulers had embraced a light-skinned, ginger-haired and elitist stock of people. So, what better than this to add credence to what might well have been a peaceful, noble and ancient Irish Diaspora?

Furthermore, there can be little doubt that they firmly believed in an afterlife that involved reincarnation or rebirth!

      

All was not overt, though! This sun-worshiping ancient civilization’s elitists opted to keep their esoteric wisdom to themselves, and a pyramidal system of control was instituted whereby only they and those they felt worthy of sacred initiation could became party to their occult and innate wisdom; in what came to be known as their mystery schools.  A caste system had inevitably been created, and alas with it a powerful and corrupted priesthood that in time led to gross discontent. If benevolent, well-balanced dictatorship could have remained the order of the day, as originally intended, an efficacious and meritorious system might have ensued, but with most humans back then being just like they still are, temporally and spiritually unbalanced and self-serving, this pyramidal system was surely doomed to failure; and will remain so, unless humanity in some way can effectively become cosmicated. And here there’s a big problem: What will be the fourth essential ingredient of the Y=X square plus One formula that will ensure this cosmication and thus permit humanity to progress towards conscious perfection and ultimate deification on Earth?

Nevertheless, back in Ancient Egypt the Great Pyramid complex did eventually become the foremost mystery school in the known world, teaching and justifying death to simply be an illusion, and even it is claimed attended by Jesus, if he ever existed, until it was systematically put out of action by those who had no wish to have their alternative, dogmatic, specious and religious control systems put in jeopardy, by allowing the masses to discover for themselves that they were embryonic deities in their own right, everlasting, and didn’t need intermediary agents to connect them with Brian’s Ultimate Force, or in other words their own Higher Selves – Enough said about this, though, it’s all been said before!

So, what happened to further convolute this secretive and esoteric system? Well, this is a long story, conducted over millennia, involving one major land-grab after another, as more powerful, ill-conceived and so-called civilizations tried to impose their self-serving and pseudo-esoteric brand of control over their neighbours. And there’s no need to expand on this, as its complexity would surely detract from the fundamental reason for this article, which is: What is to be believed – Esoteric reincarnation or Abrahamic resurrection? Because, this really could amount to becoming a matter of eternal life or death for humanity – Or simply, which brand of ancient Hebrewism is kosher, so to speak!   

To cut this long story short, therefore, Brian felt we only need to backtrack some four millennia, when now-recorded history seems to have fermented a cataclysm of dissension in this respect. Briefly: The Nile-delta area of the Ancient Egyptian civilization had continuously been invaded by Canaan populations for some four centuries before a more concerted invasion of the Hyksos, a Semitic people, had taken place: Their rulers had then reigned over this area for hundreds of years: From this background, whatever the truth behind it may be, then arose the saga of Akhenaton, madman or seer, who strived to impose monotheism on the already well-established pantheism of the entire region – Result, failure at the time in this respect, but seemingly to have been a major success in given substantial substance to all that now represents the three Abrahamic faiths of the Hebrews! The latter-day brand of Hebrewism, that is!

Now, where was Abraham, assuming he ever existed, while all this was taking place? Well, dead most of time, but the heaven and hell scenario of his vindictive demiurge, Jehovah, Yahweh or Baal, had been indelibly stamped on most of the lands adjacent to Ancient Egypt. So, its influence must have accompanied the invading hordes, including the Hyksos, which no doubt accounts for the growing assumption that they were indeed the Hebrews or akin to them.

Next, we have to consider: How did Abraham, if he existed, come to preach an antithesis to reincarnation religion? Pure egotism, anything to be different, and to promote his Hebrew tribe as the so-called chosen race, thinks Brian in his usual right-down-to-earth manner. Is this being unfair? Maybe not, if Abraham’s alleged life-history is taken into account. One stage of this finds him, whatever he was then called, in India, home of the Hindu God Brahma, and all that represents belief in reincarnation. Brahma has a consort called Saraswati. Now, isn’t it strange that when he finally arrives in the Ancient Egyptian kingdom, he has become known as Abraham with a consort called Sarah?

Just coincidence? Not according to Brian, who considers Abraham simply represents A-Brahma, the English way of indicating the direct opposite to Brahma. So, fellow travellers, do you not think that Akhenaton, another egomaniac, must have been well acquainted with this Abraham, Father of the Hebrews, background, and was also seeking glory for himself within a much older civilization that was following the belief system akin to that of the ancient Hindus?  

Whatever, it seems certain that Akhenaton, after being turfed out of Ancient Egypt, regrouped his followers, and his Atonist crusade has continued throughout the ages ever since and led to the present clandestine activities of the so-called New World Order and its blue-blood rulers, who are still hell-bent on enslaving the rest of our human world. But, this has been fully covered in previous posts on this site, under the title The Irish Origins of Civilization, by Michael Tsarion, which has been complimented by the 1923 findings in a book entitled, Irish Wisdom Preserved in Bible and Pyramids, by Conor MacDari.

In ending this article, Brian would just like to add that if he hadn’t received the mystical initiation he did in 1980, he would probably never have become any the wiser about all this. But, having received it, he knows which type of Hebrewism he would choose to follow, subject to a few reservations – The former esoteric variety, if it had existed! If it didn’t, then he only wishes that it had. How’s about you?

Brian, Cosmos Coconut Club, Sri Lanka             

Good Shepherds? (No, Incorrigible Crooks!) – According to Byron!

Oh, poor humanity! How we have all been fooled! And it is now taking an illumined fool to cut through the trickery and expose the truth – His name is Brian, The Lambeth Pilgrim!  It’s been a long hard grind for BTLP; I’ll call him this for short. And it all started, at least during his present life, in 1935of the Gregorian calendar – In where else but Lambeth, London, England!  And who then of his forebears would have wanted to doubt the iniquitous intrigue behind the terms Gregorian or Lambeth, London, England.   

Serendipitously, the term ‘Lamb’ seemed to have figured in BTLP’s life in one sense or another, from the time his mother, Lambethian Lou, gave him birth. And, I mustn’t forget to mention Lambethian Charlie, his father, and the role he played in BTLP’s birth; as in no way can I consider him to have been the result of an immaculate conception. This was made quite clear to Brian by virtue of his 1980 mystical initiation. So, BTLP was off to a flying start, so to speak, taking his first breath in Lambeth in a house of minor distinction, which just so happened to be an old gate-house to a far more acclaimed Lambeth Palace of ecclesiastical note. To enable him to mature into the ever-radical Lambeth Pilgrim, therefore, what better start could Brian have had? Not that he could ever have realized this until very much later in life. For, it wasn’t until 1980, when Brian became mystically-initiated by his Higher Self, that he realized BTLP had always been part of a cosmic strategy to be enacted on planet Earth in the system of the Sun – To conduct a real-life pilgrimage of mind-boggling proportions for the sake of mankind’s conscious survival, life after life, ad infinitum. Yes, fellow travellers, it was to be this important!

 

Well, with the given name Brian, of old Irish origin, BTLP had battled his way through life, having to deal with all the facets of existence that prevailed around him and his contemporaries, which seemed to have been cast in stone, and over which he had no control or liking. He’d felt like a slave to the system; thereby, simply gone through the motions, so to speak; and, now, looking back on his life, little could he have known that in singing the following hymn by John Bunyan at school, time and time again, he would eventually become the pilgrim to try and counter all the pilgrim of the hymn so blatantly symbolized:     

‘Who would true valour see, let him come hither; one here will constant be, come wind, come weather. There’s no discouragement shall make him once relent. His first avowed intent to be a pilgrim. Whoso beset him round with dismal stories do but themselves confound; his strength the more is. No lion can him fright. He’ll with a giant fight. He will have a right to be a pilgrim. Hobgoblin nor foul fiend can daunt his spirit. He knows he at the end will life inherit. Then fancies fly away. He’ll fear not what men say. He’ll labour night and day to be a pilgrim.’

Yes, fellow travellers, a hymn written for and on behalf of the Hebrews to bolster their iniquitous ‘Yahweh, Heaven and Hell’ agenda, and nothing at all to do with the authentic Christed, life-after-life, ad infinitum message of Jesus. And, still the Hebrews, via Atonism, are attempting to control the world, and it is BTLP who is still now labouring night and day to combat this iniquity.  

But, let me skip on to explain why BTLP wants, in amplification of the above, to make it quite clear that in no way, in spite of his birthplace, does the term Lambeth represent to him what the Hebrews have endeavoured to make it mean, down through the ages; as supplemented by the ecclesiastical presence of Lambeth Palace, London residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury, head of the so-called Church of England, which is no more than a purloined copy of Roman Catholicism; and all that is wrong with Churchianity and its clandestine attachment to Atonism. If one searches for a traditional meaning of Lambeth, it will no doubt say something like ‘landing place for lambs’ – As it no doubt was before urbanization of the area took place and Lambeth was still meadowland! But, how had this name originated? Once again, we have to look to the Hebrews – ‘Lam’ is the twelfth letter of their alphabet, and ‘beth’ means ‘house of’ or ‘place of’ in their language. Furthermore, the letter ‘Lam’ is in the shape of a shepherd’s crook, which was based on a similar symbol from Ancient Egypt. So, Lambeth has had a connection, via shepherds, sheep, lambs and crooks, going right back to Ancient Egypt, and goodness only knows where else before this; only then to be appropriated by the possessive mania of the Hebrews. William Blake, the renowned mystic, must have known a thing or two when he said and discretely seemed to intimate this when writing the following:

 ‘The Surrey hills glow like the clinkers of the furnace: Lambeth Vale; where Jerusalem’s foundations began; where they were laid in ruins.’

 So, in enacting what BTLP was mystically-tasked to do, I guess he couldn’t help but feel he would always be in mortal danger, especially when knowingly setting out on his pilgrimage. I was later to write in ‘Brian and the Rainbow Men’:

‘Brian's wife eventually turned off the main road, drove cautiously through a small village, and parked beside a disused slaughterhouse. By this time, a very tired Brian was languishing in his own small world of perfection, but realized he was still powerless to convince others that he was fighting for their lives. Overcome with fear, he knew he would soon be on stage, facing hostile disbelievers who would rather die than admit somebody knew more than themselves. But, he had to accept there was no escape from the folk who lived on the narrow-minded hill of ignorance. Brian, the Lamb, was about to enter the arena as their entertainer, and the close proximity of the abattoir all at once seemed highly prophetic.’

Later, when I wrote ‘Brian and the Animate God’, when BTLP was still struggling to make my presence known to the literary world, which was not unexpectedly deaf to his overtures, bearing in mind what my first book had related, the following appears:    

“... I was born in the sacred gate-house to Lambeth Palace, you know; I demand the right to be acknowledged as the ‘Lambeth Pilgrim’, planet Earth’s latter-day custodian of the heavenly keys.”

Even then, BTLP would not have known of all that would later mystically-colour his life, right up to the present, to modulate and reveal the true meaning behind what I had written. In this article, I just want to set the record straight – That out of the sordid remnants of our duplicitous past, BTLP was born to give light, hope and balance to our tortured world. For, I wrote when BTLP and I ventured out onto our bitter-sweet, teleported excursion into his past the following:

‘We were travelling on a double-decker tramcar as it rattled and swayed along the tortuous network of rails that once criss-crossed Greater London, connecting one world with another. It was one of those chilly, damp, featureless English days. Heavy skies, obstinate mist, and grey in every hue had stamped their mark; whilst streets, monot­onously lined with colourless, grimy brick buildings did very little to cheer the cockles of the heart. This zero-option backdrop to Brian’s newly acquired consciousness could hardly have looked more foreboding, considering that almost two thousand years before another somewhat more widely acknowledged child had been born, allegedly to give light to the world. That light, it was to be revealed later to Brian, was sadly in need of a new mantle before it flickered out completely, leaving the remnant gas supply to asphyxiate us all.’

So, fellow travellers, there’s not a lot left to say about the serendipitous and mystical happenings in the life of BTLP, except to emphasize that he’s still active in Sri Lanka, running the Cosmos Coconut Club, to further the cause of his mystically-inspired cosmogony and pilgrimage; and strangely (or can anything be classified as strange in his life?)  the club is in the garden of his residence in an area known as Lambert Estate, named after the person who acquired the whole area in the dim and distant past. Is this just coincidence? I don’t think so! For, when I was last in conclave with Brian, my lifelong companion, he just smiled at such an absurd idea, and was quick to add that even to reach his old family-house in Haycroft Road, Brixton, Lambeth, London, where he had dwelt for twenty years, one had to approach it from the main road, via Lambert Road. He then explained that the word Lambert had the more Germanic meaning of ‘Bright Land’, or even more broadly meant ‘Innocent’. I therefore have to conclude that whatever anyone else might want to think to the contrary that Brian, the Lamb, of old, and Brian, the Lambeth Pilgrim, still remains Brian, the Lamb - But a very much more illumined and far less ‘woolly’ version of the old! I rest my case!

May the Force be with you!

Cosmically yours,

Byron Warbash   

Cayce Misjudged? (Cayce Justified!) – According to Brian!

Something has been bothering me for years, now; hence, the reason for this article. So, fellow travellers, please bear with me, until I rid my mind of what I feel to have been a grave injustice both to me and Edgar Cayce. Again, to air this concern, I now only have to repeat an extract from the fourth part of my whimsical quartet ‘On the Square plus One’, ‘Dream to Reality’. With all that has, without question, been my mystically-inspired existence for, at least, the last thirty-odd years, I think you’ll understand why I still believe that the Association of Research and Enlightenment’s apathy towards my overtures ought to be questioned. The extract follows:

                                                                     *******

Rainbow Man Ray banked the Chariot of Fire, drew on the reins, and within seconds had the spectral team stop treading air. We were thus rendered stationary and advised by the wonder-light to look down. Far below, but crystal clear and bathed in late afternoon sunlight, a time-honoured sight greeted our eyes. We were directly over the Great Pyramid of Cheops and the Sphinx – the sprawling metropolis of a modern Cairo, lying in stark contrast to their ancient splendour, away to our port stern.  

                "Ooh, look at those!" Rani cried out excitedly, wriggling her bottom in her seat and urgently pointing down, "I’ve seen pictures of them and heard about them, but I never thought I’d see them with my own eyes."

                "Rani, when in a lucid dream-state anything is possible," the wonder-light explained. "…You’re able to astral-plane to anywhere you wish, or do whatever you desire, once you’ve learnt the art. And you don’t have to answer to anyone else. It’s your very own subconscious link to the fourth dimension of your existence and the access to Universal freedom – free of charge, and there just for the taking.

                Rani gazed quizzically at Rainbow Man Ray. "Lucid dream-state? Astral-plane? Fourth dimension? I don’t understand any of these things."

                "Never mind, Rani, you soon will, once you’ve been to Rainbow Land and been initiated into the Junior Section of the Cosmos Club.

                "That’s right, isn’t it, Sir?"

                Brian was shaken out of his reverie. "Yes, yes, of course!" my host murmured dutifully. It was a token response, though.

                I could sense that Brian’s thoughts were well entrenched, back in the past, dwelling vividly upon his own strange psychic initiation into the revered ranks of the Cosmos Club. For, in 1980, during his cosmically ordained pilgrimage back to the cradle of mankind in Africa, as part and parcel of this initiation, and whilst his plane was banking over – and he was compulsively gazing down at – these self-same antiquities, they had given up their well-kept ancient secret to him – the enigmatic number sequence that eventually led him to formulate the symbolic equation for the progression of Cosmic Intelligence, the inherent Code contained within the Universal Seed, had been infused into his brain. And this symbolic equation can be considered as important, if not far more important, than Einstein’s own symbolic Energy equation. It must help to bridge the enormous gulf that still exists between modern science and old-style religion. And yet people can still scoff at it, either not understanding or, perhaps more to the point, not wanting to understand its fundamental and profound meaning. Who the hell is this Brian, they probably ask? The man must be a complete and utter nut case trying to spawn such an outrageous idea, they might well add. However, just like the frog at the bottom of the well that does not even want to know what a tree looks like, such sceptical critics are the kiss of death to the progress of consciousness towards a perfect state. Therefore, rather than to be pitied for their ignorance, they deserve to be castigated for it. But, who in power will dare to promote the revelations of Brian, and take the sceptics to task, I have to ask? For the time being, nobody readily comes to mind.

                "Brings back some pretty powerful memories, eh, Sir?" Rainbow Man Ray continued. "And you’ve tried so hard to get their psychic message across. But, here we are, still trying, and with no doubt a long way to go before there’ll be any chance of success."

                "How right you are," Brian replied, expressing a loud sigh. "You know, it’s quite incredible how even the people and organisations that tread almost the same psychic path towards enlightenment as ourselves choose to dismiss my heartfelt overtures to them as being of no consequence at all. It’s so infuriating to be treated like some kind of scheming usurper who’s trying to con his way into the sacrosanct precincts of their very own self-importance.

                "I shall never forget the time…"

                Before Brian was able to elaborate, however, Rainbow Man Ray decided to cut what might well have developed into an explosive diatribe short.

                "I know exactly how you feel, Sir!" interrupted the wonder-light; because, as you know, we don’t miss a thing in Rainbow Land. But, let me tell the sorry tale for you, Sir… There’s a very good reason for this. And you, if you don’t mind my saying so, do seem to be bit hot under the collar at the moment."

                "…You can read my mind?" Brian asked, never doubting the answer.

                "Of course I can, Sir – anything’s possible in Rainbow Land. You must have learnt this fact of four-dimensional life by now."

                Brian did not reply. He just gave a polite nod of resignation.

                "Thank you, Sir… Now, Byron, this low-down is for your benefit, and best related at this strategic point of our astral mission of mercy."

                I felt honoured that Rainbow Man Ray should take my future role as author into consideration. Useful snippets of information, presented in the right context, were priceless. Little did I know, though, how important and overwhelming one of these particular snippets was to be. And I was to be the one who’d be obliged to make it common knowledge.

                "It was like this, Byron…

                "Brian decided it would be a good idea to make a powerful overture to the Association of Research and Enlightenment, the foundation created by Edgar Cayce, the so-called Prophets’ Prophet. He wanted to let them know just how uncannily accurate their own founder’s prophecies – relating to the Great Pyramid, and made more than fifty years before – had been when his own psychic experiences of 1980 were taken into serious consideration.

                "He therefore sent them a detailed statement of the facts, together with a brief synopsis of your trilogy, hoping they would see the merit in publishing it – partly to endorse the prophecies of their founder and of course to create a larger readership for your new whimsical bible.

                "Alas, true to form, Brian’s cosmically inspired seeds of wisdom once again fell upon stony ground. He was told, quite politely, it has to be said, that he was obviously having a very interesting journey of his own, but the foundation only published books that covered the life and works of their founder. They were sorry, but this was their policy – seemingly cast in stone!

                "So, Byron, as far as Edgar Cayce’s foundation is presently concerned, the detailed predictions made by their founder, concerning the Great Pyramid, have not come true.

                "Do they care? It seems not! And it’s hard to understand why, even in Rainbow Land. "However, as far as we’re concerned, they have come true, and this should be recorded for posterity…

                "Edgar Cayce predicted in a state of trance that the Great Pyramid would give up its ancient secret in 1997. Brian was psychically acquainted with this secret in 1980, but it was not until seventeen years later, in 1997, as you were about to complete work on your new bible, and the threat of a Terminal Solution for mankind had passed, that this cosmic low-down was given to the Association of Research and Enlightenment.

                "He also claimed that the Great Pyramid served as a storage place for the whole of human history and prophecies up to the year 1998, all recorded in the basic languages of mathematics, geometry and astronomy. And that it was an initiation temple, where even Jesus was initiated during his missing years as a preparation for his public mission… Byron, is the number sequence, that finally led to the formula for Universal Intelligence, Y equals X squared plus One, psychically transmitted to Brian – during his own initiation into the Cosmos Club – not proof of this? Of course it is… And why should its history and prophecies end by the year 1998? Because from thereon, after the threat of a Terminal Solution for mankind had passed at the end of 1997 and your bible for the New Age of Enlightenment was finished, there was no further need for a covert store of information. The Secret of the Universal Seed, the spiritual blueprint for human progress, had passed into the public domain, by virtue of your trilogy having being published, albeit as a limited edition, at the beginning of 1998.

                "And, now, Byron, the final and most intriguing of Edgar Cayce’s prophecies – that in 1998 there would be a Second Coming of Jesus. How and in what form, it has to be asked? When Brian dictated the script of Brian and the Rainbow Men to you, did he not, having the full authority of the psychic voice that finalised his initiation into the Cosmos Club, state the following: there will be a Second Coming, but it will not quite be the one they expected. The battle of Armageddon has already been decided – inside Brian’s head – I think you will agree, it was safer there. We also know that reincarnation is the only form of continuity leading to the Animate God and the perfect state of consciousness. So, who do you think is now, in 1998, the reincarnation of Jesus? Before you give your answer, though, consider whom it was who first cried out for assistance, as a voice in Brian’s head"

                I was astounded by what the wonder-light was inferring, and so I believe was my host. Brian now sat with his head hanging – almost in shame, it seemed! – for never once had Brian thought of himself as being another Jesus. His character was so vastly different to that of the man who had been revered for two thousand years as the epitome of all that was pure in body, mind and soul. Or this is what generations of people since his life and times had been led to believe.

                "But you don’t mean what I think you mean?" I ventured to say, almost dreading the answer. "You can’t mean Brian?"

                "Why not?"

                Well, just think of the inevitable consequences. Isn’t it onerous and dangerous enough that he’s already being portrayed as a Cultural Hero aboard a Chariot of Fire, blazing a brand-new cosmic message, without the added burden of now being put forward as Jesus’ reincarnated spirit?"

                "I agree," interjected Brian, suddenly finding a voice. "Why me?"

                "It’s horses for courses, cosmic style, all over again, Brian," Rainbow Man Ray explained. "Who on Earth can you name who would be better suited to take on this role? With your cosmic track record and present mission to fulfil, a controversial character such as you is necessary to start the sort of spiritual course correction that your misled species so badly needs. Remember that Edgar Cayce also stated that with this Second Coming there would be cataclysmic Earth changes. This you can take to mean in the form of a social revolution. Because, let’s face it, Christianity itself, on a political and power game level, has only led to endless conflict and misery. Brian, you know as well as I do that this state of affairs cannot be allowed to continue unabated into an Age of Enlightenment."

                "So, I guess, it’s in for a penny, in for a pound," Brian retorted, rather reluctantly. "Byron, you’ve heard what Rainbow Man Ray has told us. I suppose we have to bow to its superior know-how, and have you record it all as stated." He then went on, as if trying to convince himself that all would in the long run be okay. But, his words were of pretty cold comfort – to me at least! "I suppose also that it won’t really matter about the blast of furore that will result as a consequence of this latest bombshell. At our abysmal rate of progress in getting any message broadcast – as Rainbow Man S’myth has already told us – we should have gone off on a new adventure long before the shit really hits the fan. And all the sceptics will then have is just a myth of our ever existing at all to vent their indignation on – we’ll be beyond caring!"

                "That’s the jolly old ticket, Sir," enthused the wonder-light, patting Brian on the back. "Be of good cheer.

                "And now I’ve got all that Great Pyramid stuff orf me chest let’s make ourselves scarce here and sling our ’ooks, at a leisurely pace, towards Israel. We’ve still got a bit of Earth-time to kill in order to catch Ahmed in the Land of Nod."

                                                                         *******

Enough said, I feel; except to repeat that when I read this now, the only thing I would change is everything relating to the word psychic and the like. Mystic would be far more appropriate. One must always live and learn by experience. Amen!

Brian

Cosmos Coconut Club

Sri Lanka  

Ganesha Unmasked (Untrunked!) – According to Brian!

Serendipity is a wondrous thing! Yes, serendipity! One thing leads to another! Where an event or activity results in another that you have usually not planned! Well, thank goodness, my life has been forever blessed with them. This said, I would now like to relate how it has yet again revealed itself and led me to making yet another of my myth-busting pronouncements. Of late, of course, my mystically-inspired life had become centred on the eventual advent of an Ultimate Hermaphrodite Being on Planet Earth in the System of the Sun. In this respect, I thought I’d finished with the subject - But, I’d thought wrong! I’d obviously forgotten that some time ago, I’d likened Hinduism to the Ancient Egyptian concept of having a pantheon of gods; with one major One, and a multitude of demi-ones. When I’d acronymized my given name, I’d first synthesized it with Ancient Egyptian myth, but as a second thought I’d also synthesized it with Hindu myth; for good reason, it seems. I’d made it: ‘BRAHMA’: ‘REINCARNATION’: ‘I AM’: ‘ATMAN/AVATAR’: ‘NOW’: And then seemingly relegated the thought to history. But, this was not to be!   

At the time, apart from all I was doing trying to discover truth within falsehood, my domestic life had had to cope with the impending loss of whom I considered to be my greatest friend and supporter in Sri Lanka, my father-in-law. He’d more or less been pronounced terminally ill, and daily I was going to his bedside to try and afford him comfort. Buddhist by background, but more and more interested in the cosmogony I’d been advocating from the clubhouse of the Cosmos Coconut Club in our garden for the past thirteen years, he was always pleased to see me, despite the pain he was obviously suffering. On occasions, I’d even tried a hands-on healing process, but apart from all else I feel I am, I’ve never considered myself to be a physical healer. However, with my cosmogony, I certainly feel I am able to be a spiritual one. And, if I can achieve nothing else, I simply hope my life-after-life chats eventually pay dividends. I’ll say no more about this now, except that this sombre situation did provide the serendipitous background for the rest of this tale.

One day, I was telling my father-in-law about the Sphinx being the symbolic representation of the Ultimate Being, a Hermaphrodite. Coincidentally (Or was it?), the television which was still on, muted, suddenly beamed an advert, which had been shot at the site of the Sphinx. Strange, I thought! But, then, my father-in-law called for the help of his new live-in male helper: ‘GANESH’, filled the air in a loud, urgent tone. This immediately ran a bell in my mind: Ganesha was a pot-bellied Hindu god with an elephant head, supposedly representing the ‘unblocker’ of blockages and wisdom. When Ganesh had finished his task, I asked my father-in-law, ‘Is that his name?’ ‘Yes, he’s a Tamil,’ was the reply. ‘That’s quite amazing,’ I muttered, deep in thought, for another notion had entered my mind. ‘I now know why the Hindu God Ganesha has a pot-belly and an elephant face’, I added, smiling. ‘Why?’ my father-in-law asked. ‘Because It’s a symbol of the Ultimate Hermaphrodite Being in disguise!’ I beamed with delight. ‘And apart from those who introduced It in the first place, and probably a few well-placed male gurus, the rest of the Hindus haven’t got a clue. I think Ganesh can become a guru himself with your help’ ‘How can I do that?’ my father-in-law asked. My reply was concise. ‘By telling him in his own language about me, and what I’ve just told you. He’s then bound to tell others, and a water-on-the-stone process will be put in action. You could even become a celebrity!’  My father-in-law smiled weakly, and winced with a sudden pain. ‘I think I’ve left it a bit late to become a celebrity,’ he groaned. ‘Nothing is ever too late,’ I replied, gripping both his hands and willing them to be of healing assistance. ‘Always look on the bright side of life, rather than a gloomy Buddhist one. Life is all you’ll ever know, now, and forever more. I’m sure you and I will both end up part and parcel of the Ultimate Hermaphrodite Being on Planet Earth in the System of the Sun.’ ‘Okay. I’ll do my best,’ he sighed, before closing his eyes and lapsing into the peaceful realm of morphine-assisted sleep.   

And it was so! Amen! But, before I end, let GANESHA tell her/his own story in acronymic, Ancient Egyptian terms; I can’t be bothered to search for Hindu ones. I am myself very weary, because I’ve been writing since before dawn and it’s now nearly midday.

‘GOD’: ‘AMEN’: ‘NOW’: ‘EVERLASTING’: ‘SYMBOL’: ‘HAPI’: ‘AMEN’ – Perhaps now it’s been Untrunked, it’ll later be depicted with a HAPI, smiling, female face – Cheers, fellow travellers! 

    

Cosmically yours,

Brian, Cosmos Coconut Club, Sri Lanka

Earth Re-Cosmicated (De-Islanded!) – According to Brian!

Sounds a strange title, eh? Yes, but all I say and do must sound strange to all those who still conform to the specious edicts of what has become the spiritually-insulated and demonized world of today. Fellow travellers, it’s my illumined opinion that, due to political gerrymandering of every kind, perpetrated over thousands of years, the spiritual wavelength to our Universal Benefactor has been seriously impaired. Therefore, I feel, it’s high time we tried at all costs to become comprehensively reconnected; or, as I’d rather call it, re-cosmicated. Of course, it’s not only we humans who are completely out of kilter; so also is all else that constitutes Planet Earth in the System of the Sun. Sadly, systematically and unwittingly, It’s been transformed into a space-island, derelict and detached from its host. And this, to my Mystic Master, when I was cosmicated in 1980, was just not on! Hence, all I’m now trying to do, in order to correct this insidious situation. So, please, just hear me out!   

   

First, let me redefine the word, island. The mundane dictionary definition of island might read: A land-mass, smaller than a continent, and totally surrounded by water: Islands may occur in oceans, seas, lakes, or rivers. To be more universally-correct, my redefined cosmos-system-substitute would be: Any mass, smaller than its system, and totally surrounded by space, water, or artificial barrier: Islands may occur in space itself, oceans, seas, lakes, rivers, or simply as a result of human protectionism. Okay, this is just being whimsically pedantic, but it does help me develop the article. It also serves to unite macrocosm, microcosm and nanocosm.

 Now, let me consider Island Earth: Created and designed with infinite, loving care, a balanced masterpiece of artistic and scientific perfection, strategically distanced and protected from its fiery, but essential host, the Sun, and ideal for a state of conscious perfection to evolve in the fullness of time. So, just what more could any emergent, conscious, grateful, and evolving beings have desired? I guess, nothing, if these emergent beings had been anything but insidiously manipulated and grossly misinformed human beings.

This said; let me now address the dire state of insular activity on Island Earth. As I described in Brian and the Rainbow Men: What an intolerable arrogance had now developed throughout the human species, as each isolated pocket of emancipated squalor endeavoured to inflict its own brand of partially en­lightened influence over the other. Everybody thought they knew best, especially those with the most power and the loudest voices. And even those who followed their misguided leaders out of conviction, fear, or just plain apathy were still ar­rogant enough to believe their actions were justified. What could be done when the blind were leading the blind? The evolution of the comprehensive intellectual faculty was being retarded by teachings that were archaic, were shrouded with contrived mystery, did little to quell primeval fear and misery, and withheld from the bulk of the emergent intelligence every indication – that had been given to it by the Guiding Power so many times over its long evolutionary period – of what the Universe and man's place in It was really all about.      

Well, nothing has yet changed. Human beings are still being cajoled into doing everything by perversive power groups ever trying to create ever more islands - Even within islands! Divide, rule, and finally enslave humanity is the devilish objective of the controlling elite’s manipulative, inhuman, ploy. Emanating from every form of barrier, natural or artificial, contrived or condoned, and all founded on false premise, humans have sadly become the sordid custodians of Island Earth; itself now a spiritual outcast in the otherwise balanced and evolutionary aspiration of Universal Intelligence.  Yes, fellow travellers: We are now a disgrace to Y= X squared plus One!  So, unless we can emancipate ourselves from this superimposed death-wish syndrome, and start to abide by an eternal-life-after-life-wish state of being, we could very soon find ourselves on the slippery slope to non-existence – Although, just by way of the slightest glimmer of hope, my Mystic Master, the Ultimate Force, my Higher Self, did intimate that I, and other members of Its Cosmos Club, would be granted special dispensation! Amen!

What to do? Well, first, in spite of all that’s said above, let’s try to rid ourselves of the mental image of the word, island. Universal Intelligence brooks no such insular terminology. Everything in the evolving Cosmos is necessary and interconnected; even though, seemingly, it may appear not to be. Totally balanced Unity is the intrinsic nature of Its very existence. It’s just human misconceptions that have introduced islands, areas of needless division, into IF’s otherwise balanced cosmic existence. Let’s just hold that certain things need to be detached from others for reasons of danger, protection and self-preservation, but without disrupting the efficacious nature of Cosmic Unity, either temporal or spiritual. Then, at least, a start would have been made on a route to re-cosmication. A big ask, I know; but essential if our conscious heritage is ever to be salvaged.

What, then, if the above could become viable? Well, in spite of all that humans might now but, alas, foolhardily, consider sacred or cast in stone forever, so to speak, there would have to be major physical changes effected over the whole surface of the then mentally re-cosmicated planet. Outdated, erroneous images would need to be replaced, or suitably adapted, to suit the new philosophy. One change immediately comes to mind: All ‘+’, cross-of-death- symbols, on church-spires and like would need to be changed for ‘x’, crosses-of-life-ones; with gargoyles, etcetera, of devils and demons erased: And I don’t think you have to be too mystic or psychic to dream up many other classic examples yourselves. It would be really mind-boggling. But, if we are to be completely re-cosmicated, it will just have to happen eventually! All Abrahamic bogus belief-systems will have to go: Reincarnation belief-systems will need to be adapted: And all would be replaced by a Cosmicated Communal Concept – A Science of the Whole! Yes, fellow travellers, yet another mystically-manipulated CCC acronym!              

     

May the Force be with us, in bringing about this much-needed and comprehensive upgrading of our wondrous planetary home. Amen!

Brian

Cosmos Coconut Club,

Sri Lanka

                                                                               

Ancient Kemet will rise again! – According to Brian!

In amplification of the penultimate paragraph of my article Man Diffused (Defused) – According to Brian!, I feel it appropriate to republish an email I sent to a Tobago and Trinidadian some four years ago. It was, alas, never answered. It read:

Hi there,

I've only just found your website and the article in the T&T News - Very interesting! I've just posted the following comment on the blog there, which I hope will help to serve your cause. I was never physically initiated as a Mason on the Square, but being psychically-initiated onto the Square plus One certainly introduced me to a living state of nirvana. And if this works for me, it could surely work for others. I'd welcome comment back from you.

                                                                                                                                 

My comment read:

Message from a Kindred Spirit

Ancient Kemet will rise again! An interesting concept especially when related to my occult and psychic initiation into the Egyptian Mystery School of Cheops in 1980, whereby in a spontaneous and altered state of consciousness, I was spiritually cleansed over a four-day period without sleep, subjected to a symbolic pilgrimage back to the cradle of mankind in Africa, made privy to the evolving intelligence of the universe,   and perhaps more importantly made aware of the essential part that mankind is supposed to be playing in bringing this intelligence to a balanced state of conscious perfection – The fruition of the cosmic seed, no less! Well, Ancient Kemet most certainly rose in me; and as an important rider to my initiation I was tasked to record the experience and disseminate its edicts without getting persecuted in the process; since it would de facto cut across thousand of years of politicized, personalized and diversified religious and philosophical gerrymandering that seemed to have become almost cast in stone. Old habits, especially bad ones, die hard, and proponents of the ingrained divide-and-rule status quo are not likely to acquiesce to such radical edicts without invoking every diabolical means within their corrupted power to prevent them from usurping their otherwise specious authority. As was the case of the Kemet-initiated Jesus before me, it was not intended that I suffer a similar fate – Hence, the whimsical nature of my packaged quartet ‘On the Square plus One’. It would be impossible to describe all aspects of this edition as part of this message, but details about it and my ongoing effort to propound the message by a dripping on the stone technique are given in my websites, www.vigiltrust.co.uk and www.cosmosclub.blogspot.com. All I’d like to add here is what I consider to be a concluding statement to this effort, which I hope will help to augment your own well-defined thoughts on the subject. It reads:

My Ongoing Mission – A Concluding Overview

After nearly thirty years of rigorous self-analysis, comprehensive religious, philosophical and psychical research, and the publication of copious associated literary works since my cosmication in 1980, I remain the unsung hero of my very own mythological quest to blaze a sensible trail through today's minefield of conventional and mostly outmoded thought and deed. Not surprising, I guess, when the message I was cosmically tasked to disseminate is generally at odds with five thousand years of conventional divide-and-rule, specious, politically-motivated and partisan beliefs that have infected today’s world with the almost incurable cancer of competitive cultures and rabid extremism. And let’s face it – Who but a few would willingly deign to heed and acknowledge the psychically-inspired Utopian vision and wisdom of an almost non-entity known as Brian, the Lambeth Pilgrim, and his symbolic Rainbow Men cosmic ambassadors? Nevertheless, I know full well that many folk talk a lot about me; but most choose not to talk to me; and I don’t have to be too psychic to understand why. Therefore, let me remain the unsung hero in the jaundiced eyes of a mainly deluded world, yet be happy in the knowledge that my Psychic Master’s most cogent resurrected message has been duly delivered and is slowly but surely being spread by bush telegraph. And this is the way the message was meant to be dispensed. ‘No more religions and no more martyrs, Brian’ was an important proviso relative to my extraordinary and very exacting introduction to the astral realm of the Psychic Master’s Cosmos Club.

That the Great Pyramid of Cheops was involved in putting me ‘On the Square plus One’ is beyond doubt, and all that has since happened to authenticate what was psychically fed into my mind in 1980 has now made me more and more convinced that I was then, over four days and nights without sleep, subjected to similar initiation process that would have been used to initiate far more spiritually-prepared adepts at the Ancient Egyptian Mystery School of Cheops into firmly believing in life-everlasting and death as just an illusionary aspect of one’s eternal journey towards conscious perfection. However, because I was not more spiritually-prepared before my own ‘crash course’ initiation into such mysteries, I conclude that the severe mental trauma I suffered as a result of my initiation, and the fact that it then took me ten years to sensibly equate with it, was not really to be unexpected. Fortuitously, though, I survived to fulfill the cosmic task expected of me. And this done, I now intend to conclude my written and verbal overtures to the public with the following bold statement, which has also been posted at the Cosmos Coconut Club in Sri Lanka. This said there seems little more worth my adding in the future, as in illumined Kundalini circles I once again have to repeat that to those who understand no further explanation is necessary but to those who do not no further explanation is possible. The statement reads:

COSMOS COCONUT CLUB INTENT FOR 2009 AND ONWARDS…

Psychically, I was initiated into the Egyptian Mystery School of Cheops in 1980 for it seems one reason – To impart spiritual wisdom and a reassurance of life-everlasting to all those who by self-experience within the sanctum of their own existence are desirous of heeding the message.

In this respect, explanation from the www.opencheops.org  website seems in order – The initiate system, prevailing in Egypt, was based upon one tremendous point, that the individual should learn factually, actually, and beyond question through personal experience that death is an illusion. Immortality is the summit of man’s problem. They had developed a science by which they could communicate the fact, example, and circumstance of death directly to another person. In other words, the initiates of the Mystery Schools were persons who had lived, died and been born again in this world.

I WAS NO EXCEPTION TO THIS PROCESS.

The above statement as well as this article now concludes:

THE AWAKENING OF ANY INDIVIDUAL IS DEEMED A COSMIC EVENT.

Brian

Cosmos Coconut Club

Sri Lanka 

*******

When I read this now, the only thing I would change is everything relating to the word psychic and the like. Mystic would be far more appropriate. One must always live and learn by experience. Hotep! Amen!

Brian

Cosmos Coconut Club

Sri Lanka   

Panarchic Cosmicianity (S’pan Rebooted!) – According to Brian!

I guess I ought not to become surprised if the idea for yet another radical article suddenly invades my mind. After all my mystically-inspired life has so far had to offer, I not only ought not to be surprised; but far rather come to expect, it seems, that one will almost, as if by magic, always materialize. And so it was with this one. I was reflecting that sometime in the past, in a place that now escapes my mind – Maybe it was even in a lucid dream! – I’d written something that didn't quite ring true with the mandate I’d been mystically tasked to promote. I’d said: My mystically-inspired cosmogony, based on the Y=X Squared plus One formula, should be called Brianism for the sake of a better name: All that was needed to be a confirmed believer of it – As everyone acted as their own temple, so to speak! – was to be truly in accord with cosmic harmony: And simply state sincerely to themselves ‘I believe’ three times. It was as easy as that. It wasn’t a brand new religion; but a much-needed and balanced science of the whole. What was therefore wrong with the concept? The word Brianism! It was making the new belief too personalized and ism didn't sound right either. Something more telling was needed. For generality, its title had to be made more appropriate for all concerned. So, my search for a new title began.

I’d become a mystically-inspired and self-styled Cosmic, as a result of all that had happened to and transformed me. So, this had to be a good start, I thought. Cosmic just had to be in the title but if not with an ism, what else. Of course, make it an ianity. The word Cosmicianity had thus been coined. But, then, the thought came to me that this ianity was not doing much for Christianity. I dismissed this notion, however; as, in my opinion, original Christianity had been totally corrupted by Churchianity. Furthermore, the Spirit of Jesus the much-misrepresented Christ had figured notably in my Cosmication. Yes, it had to stay! Now, what would make this general term appear paramount and suitable for everyone?

Once again, serendipity – An ity, but not an ianity! – seemed to come to my aid:  I suddenly became mystically-inspired to reread part of the fourth part of my quartet ‘On the Square plus One’, ‘Dream to Reality’, my own myth to whimsically override all others of the past. It concerned the imaginative, teleported excursion I’d made to my spiritual realm, Rainbow Land, with my lifelong companion, Byron Warbash. This might seem like trivia to you, fellow travellers. But, please bear with me. For, to me, it became another example of mystically-manipulated perfectibility, Ultimate-Force style, and enabled me, whimsically, and with good reason, to link this article back to something I wrote some fifteen years ago; and long before I ever thought my life was to going to continue in the vein it has. I hope this doesn't bore the butt off you, but the extract now follows:

Rainbow Man Spin-doctor Pan positioned itself before us with a token hop, step and a jump. Presumably, this had to be its practised gimmick. Since it raised a unified cry of "Who's a cheeky little rascal, then?" from what seemed the whole Assembly, with maybe the exception of the Leading Light, the Leader of the House, and Sparkle, that by this time appeared to have lapsed into a moribund state of nuclear finality. And, the opposite end of the spectrum from Rainbow Man Spin-doctor Myth, the whiz kid of myth development was not surprisingly clad in a romper suit of shocking red. So shocking was it that our reaction to it must have armed the flamboyant little character with its opening gambit.

                "Okay, you two, I can see by the expression on Brian’s face that my gaudy uniform betrays my overall level of success in the crazy field of myth development. But, I make no apologies for either my pathetic play on words, or the undeniable fact that to date my elemental influence over planet Earth's three-dimensional conduct has been an unmitigated waste of my four-dimensional time.

                "Jingling jester's bells, I swear – by Every-thing the Ultimate Force represents – that not only have those perverse mankind buggers there practically blotted their three-dimensional copybook; but they've also done their level best to convert our simplistic, child-like, elemental dream world into a lurid archetypal sin-bin, embracing the most horrific nightmare scenario.

                "And this, Brian, is just not cosmically on."

                "Shame on them! Shame on them!" rang out from the benches, while Rainbow Man Spin-doctor Pan performed another little hop, skip and a jump, and I took stock of the indictment levelled against mankind.

                And, in this respect, I came to the immediate conclusion that, at this point in the story, a few words of explanation might well be necessary. Therefore, without wishing to appear too highbrow or toffee-nosed, here goes.

                                                                                       *******

Brian’s fourth-dimensional realm is Rainbow Land. But, symbolically, it could be whatever or however anyone else wants to call it or try to understand it. Regardless, it has been part and parcel of the Universe ever since the Seed of the Universe was germinated by the Big Bang, courtesy of the Ultimate Force, and the explosive nature of this Genesis Event created a chaotic situation that could only by natural evolution be brought under control.

                Notwithstanding this chaotic state of cosmic affairs, and although aiding the implementation of this control, this fourth-dimensional realm did not de facto have any psychic influence – or a Mind at Large! – until Life Itself evolved. It was hard-disk-dead, so to speak. But, with the advent of Life, and living mind's natural link with its fourth-dimensional counterpart, the Mind at Large became active. It gave inspirational guidance to, and, in return, received an ever-increasing amount of collective hard-disk data from its three-dimensional, conscious, living offspring – the embryonic, conscious mind of its Animate God in the making.

                I’m sorry if I happen to be boring you with this fundamental snippet of cosmic know-how. But, it does lead to a bottom line, which I can assure you won’t now be too long coming right up. So, please, bear with me. It is not easy – in just a few short paragraphs – to explain the nature of elementals and archetypes, and the heinous effects they are both, at this time, having on your fourth-dimensional realm, which is the subconscious world of your dreams. And, if you can’t take my word for this fact, ask any schizophrenic, if you perchance know one.

                So, back to the nitty-gritty:

                Given this Mind-to-mind system, after a while, serious problems in the fourth-dimensional realm started to manifest themselves. The animate mind was sending all the wrong psychic impressions to the Mind at Large. Something was dreadfully wrong, and the Universe was starting to lose its galactic balance; the tail had started to wag the dog, to quote a well-abused canine metaphor. And this was when Brian – the Lambeth Pilgrim – was hastily and brusquely cosmicated to do something about it.

                You see, initially, the animate mind was quite content to view Nature with wonder and awe. It was like the mind of any newly born child, linked to Nature, but with no Earthly axe to grind. It was just happy to accept Nature as either a fantastic help or a ruddy hindrance, depending on how it affected the environment in which it found itself. There were no other sinister implications. Damn it all! Nature was just Nature, and that was that.

                But, then, slowly but surely, the animate mind began to have some inspired ideas. Where was all this inspiration coming from, the animate mind asked itself? And, not understanding its natural link with its fourth-dimensional realm of existence and its ultimate purpose, it nevertheless convinced itself that these inspired ideas were emanating from a higher form of intelligence. And that this intelligence also dictated the interplay between what has now become the antiquated conception of the basic elements - earth, air, fire and water. When, all the time, it was its very own intelligence dictating to itself by virtue of its subconscious connection to the fourth-dimensional realm.

                Pity be, it has to be said. The animate mind was just not aware of this. Because, this non-existent higher intelligence never let on that this was so. Not surprising, I suppose! And, alas, the ever-evolving animate mind laboured on, making big mountains out of molehills or, more to the point perhaps, turning natural phenomena into an ever-increasing hotchpotch of fickle personified elementals – that, in many ways, were quite undesirable! Mythical manifestations of the Earth Spirit in all shapes and varieties went flooding into the fourth-dimensional realm, ranging across the spectrum from good fairies to evil monsters, hell-bent on wreaking vengeance on those with the animate mind. Without realizing it, the animate mind had become masochistic to itself.

                Much worse was to come. All these personified elementals had to have elemental bosses, the animate mind convinced itself. At this, the personification of the Supervising Nature Spirits themselves, the Gods, was woven into the personified elemental scheme of things. Woe upon woe, because the nature of some of these personified elementals was far from good, it meant that their bosses had to be far from good, the animate mind figured. Hence, personified Devils that supervised such dreadful personified elementals began to rear their ugly heads. And, with these additional misguided thought-waves polluting the fourth-dimensional realm, animate mind had become even more masochistic unto itself. It had turned its own dream-state into an archetypal mine-field.

                And, what in the sacred name of the Ultimate Force are Archetypes, ask yourself, as Carl Gustav Jung himself has long since passed on to a brand-new life-after-life adventure? Never mind, I’ll tell you. They are powerful primordial images that manifest themselves in most peoples’ dream-states and other fantasies that do not necessarily arise from your personal experience, but seemingly emanate from an ancient library of collective unconscious imagery. In other words, they are a psychic equivalent of unsolicited junk mail that you, poor sod, have to take on board when in your dream-state you tap into the fourth-dimensional realm of your existence, the Universe's Mind at Large. And, none of this is your own fault – it’s all because the animate mind got the wrong end of the cosmic stick, also through no fault of its own.

                Having said all this, I really don’t have to tell you what, since time immemorial, a diverse succession of political wangles on the part of religious and mystery schools have done to the fourth-dimensional realm. But, I will. They turned it into a mythical assessment centre, of diabolical magnitude, that doesn't even exist, except in the vulnerable, unsuspecting mind of Man at Large. And this is the pitiful state of cosmic affairs that Brian and I now have to address and try, by any means at our disposal, to mythically rectify. The fourth-dimensional realm of animate cosmic existence, the Universal Mind at Large, has to be made with all speed a far nicer place in which to spend our subconscious time, life after life after life – a dream-land fit for an Animate God, no less!

                Enough said, I feel; perhaps more than enough! And, once again, may I apologize for having interrupted the whimsical flow of the story. But, when needs must, as the old adage goes! And, once enlightened to the fact that your Heaven has always been on Earth, life after life after life, and not in the Nowhere Realm of Nature's Code, which is simply trying against all odds to do Its cosmic best, I think you’ll readily accept my apology.

                Of course, my closing sentiment has to be that in an enlightened society one has no need to apologize – there is no guilt – so, now, back to the House of Lights and the further cosmic wisdom of Rainbow Man Spin-doctor Pan.

                Oh, I nearly forgot! Where did I glean all this important know-how? Another little Rainbow Man that wished to remain nameless slipped me a memorandum, when I was later in the House of Light's toilet. And, believe me; I was certainly relieved in more ways than one.

                                                                                       *******

"Well then, now I've got that that little lot off my chest, let me tell you, no prizes for guessing, everyone just calls me Rainbow Man S'pan, for short. There are three reasons for this. The first is that Rainbow Man Spin-doctor Pan is such a cosmic mouth-full. The second is that throughout my long and inspirational existence I've tried – unsuccessfully I might add – to span the chasm between the animate mind and the fourth-dimensional realm. And the third – and by no means least – is that, having tried to redirect Greek mythology down the right path, by introducing a bit of impish humour into it, I was stuck with the handle Pan; and, thus, condemned to be likened, ever since, to a little rascal Rainbow Man that never really wanted to grow up."

                At this, Rainbow Man S’pan feigned sadness, as it once more went through its time-honoured ritual. And the benches resounded to a carousal of sympathetic ah's, before it could go on to entertain us with its humorous tale of mythological woe.

                "Of course, Sir," it continued, this time raising doleful eyes towards the Leading Light and striking a theatrical pose of pious supplication, "the poor itinerant Guiding Power didn't have much joy getting the right message across, either – until Brian came on the fourth- dimensional scene. So, what Earthly chance did I stand, if the Ultimate Force's left-hand offspring couldn't do the business? Fair do's, now – I was only Chief Assistant to the Assistant Chief. "

                The Leading Light gave a fiery nod of approval.

                "No, Sir!" Rainbow Man S’pan went on, back to addressing us. "My role was to follow in the wake of the Guiding Power's inspirational efforts, tart up the heavy stuff with a modicum of humour, and try to make sure its bottom-line message didn't get myth-understood or myth-interpreted – if you get the inspired, lisping joke!"

                While Rainbow Man S’pan laughed out loud at its own joke – corny as it was – we couldn't help but be impressed with the entertaining show it was presenting. It seemed the Sunshine Society, regardless of success or dismal failure, could really take nothing seriously. And I guess this was only to be expected in an illusory realm that was the epitome of the perfect state of being to date, and in which each hallucinatory image had done its very best to do what it was supposed to have done. The show continued apace:

                "…Well, as I’ve told you, Sir, I failed miserably to impress and persuade any of those block-heads that I came into hallucinatory contact with to see the light… They simply wouldn't get it into their noddles that they were the actual raw-meat-on-the-bone, conscious, living ancestors-to-be of the emergent Animate God – and that this was what the Seed of the Universe was all about. It was all really pathetic until you entered into our fourth-dimensional existence, courtesy of the Ultimate Force Itself…Old UF really sprung us a grand surprise when It produced you as the joker in Its cosmic order of things. But, as you know, at the time It was getting desperate – the Universe was beginning to lose its galactic balance because Its animate fruit had a death wish that was in turn causing cosmic depression and anarchy…

                "Anyway, Sir, let’s not dwell on the serious side of what’s gone on – it’s just like matter sucked into the vortex of a depressing black hole now! I know where you’re coming from, and I know where you’re going – because we in Rainbow Land never miss a trick… So, let me take you on a fast-moving anecdotal trip down my memory-lane – I’m already well acquainted with yours."

                Naturally, I was pleased to note that my second book of the Brian trilogy, Brian and the Animate God, had not been totally in vain. At the very least, Rainbow Man S’pan seemed to have read it, if it knew all about the bitter-sweet astral-trip Brian and I had made into his chequered past. Though, upon further reflection, did the inhabitants of a fourth-dimensional realm, psychically linked as they were to all that had ever been, is, and will be, really need to read a book? All the know-how had to be mind-to-Mind, if all I’d been informed since being in Rainbow Land was to be believed. And, there was very little reason to think that the Guiding Power itself was a two-timing chip off the Old Cosmic Block, good old UF Itself. 

                But, enough of my self-serving publicity stunt, to draw attention to my previous literary efforts, and on with Rainbow Man S'pan’s even more chequered past, as it followed mankind’s inglorious mythological path out of Africa. 

                "It was such a long time ago when I first tried my very best to come into my own as a cosmic mind-enforcer," Rainbow Man S’pan began. "But, as you well know, Sir, time goes so quickly when you’re enjoying yourself.

                "As a very special agent – no rank, no frills, no double-O number – I was part of the intergalactic pest-control brigade, assigned to planet Earth in the system of the Sun, to try and keep your species on the right cosmic path – mythically that was!

                "What a farce it all turned out to be. And I hope, Sir, that you’ll have far more success than I ever had; however hard I tried."

                I felt Brian gulp.

                "Yes, Sir, from day-one, I had that funny gut-feeling I was on a beating to nothing. Mind you, when I say day one, I mean with your ruddy lot, so-called Homo Sapiens Sapiens, the dopey lot of self-destructive people of dubious parentage, if you get the nuptial meaning…

                "I mean to say, I didn't really stand an Earthly with the previous bunch. But, I've got to forgive them. They didn't have receptive brain-boxes – like your lot! – when they took their aimless walk-about in and out of Africa… No, Neanderthal man was already doomed to go back into the melting pot and start its life-after-life existence all over again… And that, Sir, is where your perverse bunch of cosmic chancers came in…

                "Without a word of a lie, Sir – and would I lie to you? – the Guiding Power had eventually managed to make its psychic presence felt in the extremely primitive lucid dream-state of this‘ere bird right down in the Rift Valley of Africa:  'Eave, her name was! Why? Because ‘Eave made her old cave-dwelling mate, rocky-horror Adam'ant, feel sick every time he looked at her. And, what happened? Don’t bother to guess, Sir; I'll tell you what happened…

                "'Eave woke with a start. ‘Adam!’ she grunted elatedly – simply because she thought of him as this for short, and nobody could speak properly in those days. ‘Something has just 'ugged me in my sleep, and let me know that I’m soon to give birth to a wonder-child that will have a brain befitting something called a God – I think it 'ugged! And that this wonder-child will go on – life after life after life – to become the be-all-and-end-all of all Gods. Isn't this wonderful news, my precious rock-cave hunk? Aren't you thrilled with my thoughts?’

                "Adam was not at all impressed. Far from being thrilled, he rubbed sleep from his eyes, and even in the lacklustre half-light of dawn, 'Eave had made him feel even sicker. ‘Don’t be such a silly Neanderthal cow,’ he grunted back, in his usual loving macho way. ‘Have you been at those hallucinogenic happy leaves again? Get back to sleep; and don’t dare to disturb me with such a load of old cobblers again.’

                "But, Sir, it has to be said that, although Adam was a male chauvinist rock-wielding pig, he was not at a lexical loss nor impotent with his 'ugs… 

                "What’s the world coming to, Adam reflected in an 'ugging, nebulous sort of way; females, churning out wonder-kids that are capable of living forever; what the evil nature spirit next? They’ll soon want cave rule, if we macho grunters don’t watch out. Anyway, what’s a God? Who needs one of them? When you live, you live. And, when you snuff it, you go to a great haunted rock-cave in the sky, that’s fabulously decorated, and you get your card marked by the Big Chief Nature Spirit Itself, King Rocky, the First. That’s what my instinct tells me – and no bombed-out female is going to tell me otherwise.

                "Well, Sir, as you can now appreciate, no doubt, even before day-one in the slow evolutionary journey of your species out of Africa, duality was already leading to incompatibility; not only in living relationships, but also in the mythical world of the fourth-dimension. It was, way back then, beginning to get cluttered up with so much spiritual dross that it was enough to make your hard-life survival on Earth look like a cakewalk.

                "Poor old Guiding Power, I thought. It had done its best to get the very first wonder-child off to the right start in life, straight down the evolutionary road towards the perfect state of being. And that bigoted stone-brain Adam was already denying the existence of this logical route with some cock and bull mythical nonsense of his own…

                "Try as I might to change his way of thinking, by invading his horrific lucid dream-state and cleansing it, he continued to slag-off the ever-suffering 'Eave until she finally gave birth to the wonder-child of her dreams. ‘It's a girl,’ she 'ugged with joy, cutting and knotting the umbilical cord with one hand, while slapping her into screaming, living existence with the other.

                "Yes, Sir, old 'Eave was ambidextrous, just like you; it must run in the family."

                We had to chuckle at the long-term implications of such a statement. However, where was Rainbow Man S’pan’s mythical story of its own all leading us, I had to ask myself. 

                "Enjoyed that bit, did you, Sir?" Rainbow Man S'pan asked, chortling to itself. "Thought you would!" it added, before carrying on with its anecdotal saga of planet Earth’s very first wonder-child – albeit a girl!

                "‘What!’ 'ugged Adam, whose lucid dream-state was getting him more and more rattled and putting him at odds with himself. ‘Just for starters, some interfering good-for-nothing dream merchant tells you that you’re going to give birth to an ever-lasting wonder-kid. And, now, you've got the gall of the evil rock monster to produce a girl. What are you trying to do – turn our world into a breeding ground for so-called Gods that are all going to be female?’ Not realizing how close he was to the truth, Adam left 'Eave, cradling her new prize in her arms, and returned to drawing depraved pictures on the wall of their rock-cave home. In his mind, he was right; and she was simply off her female rocker. He was macho man – the hunter, the brave fighter, and the born butcher… And, what was she? She was only woman… born to serve, and do as she was told. He daubed on the finishing touches to two devilish-looking rock monsters, both very rampant macho male, that were – without any shades of grey at all – well-practised sodomites. And he decided there and then that he’d make certain that 'Eave, with all her wonder-kid ideas, was never in a position to make him a laughing-stock in the eyes of his primitive, macho peers… Never would she be allowed to make her outrageous revelation known to another rock-wielder in the Neanderthal African Realm of Ugger'uggerland.

                "‘Eave's fate – that life round, at least – was thus sealed… Nevertheless, confined to the area of their rock-cave as she had been, she still managed, against all odds, to rear her wonder-child, as any mother should. And, despite bloody-minded Adam becoming even more depraved and malicious, the little girl began to blossom into early puberty with all the signs that Eave's faith in her dream-state 'ugger was justified. For, little Eve – as she became known – displayed remarkable talents for a child of her age, not least of which being that she could daub much nicer pictures than her father, whilst making sounds with her mouth that brought a kind of melody to the air that they breathed. Her presence was magic and Adam hated her for it. In fact, it drove him to partake of all-powerful jolly-juice liquor, which in his case made him far from jolly.

                "Then, one gale-lashed day, with rain streaking down like swingeing stair-rods from the nebulous realm of his evil nature spirits, Adam came back to the rock-cave, as pissed as a spiritual fart, and proceeded to knock at least seven bags of the jolly old proverbial out of 'Eave. After which, he tried a very misplaced carnal act on poor little Eve, who had come to the defence of her battered and bruised mother… You see, Sir, sexual abuse of the young goes back an awful long way…

                "And, Sir, if it wasn’t so flaming tragic, you’d really have to crack up. Because, what happened next was that while Adam was trying to have his wicked way with his wonder-child daughter, 'Eave, still reeling from her ordeal, homed-in on Adam, like a bolt out of the blue, just as lightning from without lit the cave. Missing her footing on route, she ploughed headfirst into Adam, whose own head just happened to be in a direct collision course with hers. Together, they fell, as if pole-axed, to the ground, never to regain consciousness. And, outside the cave, thunder and lightning orchestrated a natural requiem… They’d both gone off to a new adventure – life after life on Earth – but 'Eave's new existence was destined to be far happier than Adam's. Of this, I'm sure!

                "… And what of poor little Eve?

                "… Don’t try to throttle me when I tell you, will you, Sir? Not only was she the first-born member of the species, Homo Sapiens Sapiens, and your first ancient animate ancestor – but she herself, coincidentally, had become its first orphan in a storm. And that know-how has remained under mythical wraps, until now. How about that epic tale, then, to help you along with your new Creation Myth? I bet you never thought you’d get an interesting snippet of four-dimensional mythological low-down like that, did you, Sir?"

                Rainbow Man S’pan, beaming with satisfaction, hopped, skipped and jumped around our rostrum, bells tinkling, its outstretched arms inciting a rowdy reaction from the benches. It duly came: "Nice one, S’pan", over and over again, rang out as a unified and well-practised rejoinder. Then, with order finally alliteratively restored by the Leader of the House, this total failure, yet still extremely proud and well-respected cosmic enforcement agent of myth development, stood hands on hips before us, and impishly exclaimed: "Well, say something, Sir!"

                I think Brian was taken aback at actually being asked to make a verbal contribution to the proceedings. However, pleased to find that we hadn't lost our voice, he gave the staring figure full credit for its unsuccessful efforts. "Rainbow Man S’pan," Brian said, surprisingly with all sincerity, "thank you, so much, for that fantastic news. An understandable failure to get the right message across on your part, it may well have been. But, it does go a long way to explaining how an item, called Adam and Eve, managed to find its mythical self in a so-called Garden of Eden… And I don’t think I’d get too many bonus points for assuming that it was you also that had no joy in getting that screwed-up cosmically destructive situation changed for the better either."

                "You’re so kind, Sir! And, how right you are!"

                Rainbow Man S’pan then went on to relate how this poor orphan Eve had grunting – though psychically inspired – affairs with a selection of two-timing Adam' ants that had no more respect for her womanhood than her late and, unfortunately, never-to-be-forgotten father.  And, as she made her lonely way through the Great Rift Valley in search of greener pastures, guided by the only star in the night-sky that never seemed to move, Eve became a mother, many times over. Just exactly how many new wonder-children she spawned, Rainbow Man S’pan couldn't say. Though, one aspect, of which it was absolutely certain, was the monotonous nature of their names. All the boys had been gruntingly called Adam, and the girls Eve; for, as custom decreed, in those olden grunting days, every male expected to be known as an Adam, and every female an Eve. And, although by grunt of mouth – albeit much more melodic in nature than that of her Neanderthal ancestors – mother Eve had passed on to her off-springs the revelation with which her poor old mum had been psychically endowed, they all viewed her – as kids will do! – as grunting out of the back of her head. Like it or not, though, and regardless of their own lack of awareness, genetically, they were endowed with brains befitting the emergent Animate God; and far better mentally connected with the fourth dimension of their existence… And, this, they simply had to live with. There could be no opting out, or going back. They were the forerunners of a brand-new species – Homo Sapiens Sapiens – and their future cosmic role was to proliferate the species; so that it in general and they in particular might progress, life after life, towards the perfect state of conscious existence.

                "But, Sir, do you think I could get any of those kids to take any of this on board?" Rainbow Man S’pan asked, before bringing its own Adam and Eve memories to a mythological conclusion. "Not a chance!" it added, in the same breath. "It was just like trying to flog a dead horse. Battling against the harsh environment of Africa, as they were, the thought of a life after life, conscious existence in the third dimension terrified them. Dying – and staying dead! – must have seemed like a far better option.

                "But, Eve, ever north-bound without realizing it, was unafraid. Her poor old mum had convinced her that she was a wonder-child, everlasting and God – whatever that was – in the making. What in the whole wide world was there to be afraid of? Unfortunately, however, her poor old mum hadn't mentioned that, like her, she first had to die to be reborn. And, after pushing her luck too far, trying to grunt with the wild life, however melodic her grunting had then become, Eve, way out in the bush, doing all the hunting and gathering for yet another lazy, good-for-nothing Adam, got herself eaten by a lion that was no respecter of human grunters having the faith to believe that they were eventually to evolve into the Lord of the Jungle… 

                "Well, Sir, if you were a lion, you wouldn't like to think you were going to be under the control of any old human God, would you now?"

                Rainbow Man S’pan treated itself to the luxury of another little hop, skip and a jump, before laughingly stating: "Never mind, Sir, I’m only pulling your what's name. The lion didn't really think that at all – it was just hungry! Eve, in spite of her blind faith, happened to be right in the wrong place at the wrong time – from her point of view, and not the lion’s, that is – and got caught up in another fine exhibition of Sod's Law. And I don’t have to tell you any more about that elemental quirk of Nature, do I, Sir? You’ve listened to my learned friend’s fairy-tale about it – also, suffered enough of it yourself."

                Not only Brian, I thought! My own painful and frustrating experiences during my astral package tour to Mongrel Island (Brian and the Pacific War) still rankled in my mind.

                                                                                             *******

So, we’d listened to Rainbow Man S’pan's tall story, mythically describing our ancient ancestral origins. And a very tall story, it may well have been. However, to have dismissed it as meaningless, simply because it was a very tall story, would have been to miss the point of the story altogether. It did at least, from an evolutionary angle, make far more sense than all the other mythical hog-wash that had been passed down over the ages by those, especially the self-serving gerrymandering priests and politicians, who were so ill-informed about science, especially in its then unheard-of discipline of genetics. 

                Fair enough, most past mythology has been used as an artistic tool, to tart-up the hard-boiled esoteric, philosophic or religious teachings with a bit of fantasy with which to tickle the fancy of the punters. In other words, give them something to make them believe there was far more to Life than just a mundane existence that ended in death. And, it wasn’t particularly the fault of the storytellers that they weren't as cosmically clued-up as Rainbow Man S’pan. But, when one considers all the horror and nonsense that has, as a direct result of their dabbling, been fed into the fourth-dimensional realm of our existence, and that the punters have forever been led into thinking that their life-after-life continuity lies in such a sordid realm, then past mythology has such a lot to answer for.

                Unfortunately, as hostages to this mythological past, this is the nature of the beast that Brian and I have to deal with. And hopefully supersede eventually with a Creation Myth that artistically and spiritually equates with the modern, technological and scientifically aware world that is now our fragile planetary home. Old myths may have had some social context when they were first fed like mother's milk to those, and by those, who had very limited know-how. Alas, these social contexts have died, but their associated old myths still remain to haunt us, both from the fourth-dimensional archetypal realm of our existence, as nightmares, and in our day-to-day three-dimensional existences, as spectres that seem to have somehow become real and had their images cast in stone. And, cosmic mercy upon us all, there are still those that abound – not even aware of the true nature of our fourth-dimensional existence – that control us, and would have these spectres from the past lead us down the same path that led to the extinction of Neanderthal Man, our most unfortunate dim-witted ancestor.

                Progress or perish is the fundamental rule of Nature's game, cosmically written into the Code within the Seed of the Universe, and it is high time everyone became aware of this fact. For, there is no time to lose!

                Cling to the past, and regress, life after life, in ever-increasing misery, until Homo – so-called Sapiens Sapiens! – suffers, out of its own dim-wittedness, the same inevitable fate as the Dinosaurs and Neanderthal Man; or, better, join Brian and myself, in viewing our conscious existence in a new mythical light, based on state-of-the-art, scientific know-how. And, thus, prevent our cosmically blessed species from becoming extinct and eventually taking you with it.

                Here, I have use the word you advisedly. For, just as the mythical African 'Eave managed to produce a wonder-child out of a moribund species, which led to the fast procreation of a brand-new species, so an as yet unsung Lambethian Lou (Brian and the Animate God) produced what could easily be another wonder-child out of a moribund species. His name is Brian. And, as I am part and parcel of his personality, I know that if Homo Sapiens Sapiens fails to get its cosmic act together, I’m on board another life-after-life bandwagon to the future. Call my dream-world insurance species what you like. But I know it as Homo Sapiens Cosmos, the artistically and scientifically well-balanced species that will lead as soon as humanly possible to the perfect conscious state of existence. You see – I want to become part and parcel of the Animate God the easy way… How's about you?

                Enough said, for now, on behalf of the Cosmos Club cause, I think, and now back to all the mythical failures of the past, as recalled by Rainbow Man S’pan.

         However, even its programmed performance was about to experience a touch of Sod’s Law.

                                                                                        *******

"Are you still awake in there, Byron," Rainbow Man S’pan asked, sensing in its strange fourth-dimensional way that I’d been daydreaming in a literary reflective world of my own.

                "Oh, yes!" Brian answered on my behalf. "I can still feel him scuttling around in the artistic and creative realm of my brain, plotting a very hyped-up story-line."

                Rainbow Man S’pan was delighted at this news. "Excellent! Excellent!" it exclaimed. "The story-line will have to be hyped-up, if it’s destined to have any greater success than I've ever had getting the correct mythical message across… Our cosmic truth might hurt, Sir, but you just have to sock it to 'em.

                "For two hundred thousand years, give or take a millennium or so, your lot have been wandering around planet Earth, dwelling in the wrong world of myth. And the time has come for change – drastic, mind-boggling change! "But, then, an unexpected outpouring of pent-up self-pity invaded Rainbow Man S'pan’s computer-linked know-how, which we were told later had been caused by an unsolicited three-dimensional virus, emanating from a computer hacker on planet Earth, and finding its way into the fourth-dimensional realm. Nothing, it seemed, was sacred – not even the Universal Memory of Nature – all the while mankind stayed untamed and fancy free. 

                "I ask you, Sir!" Rainbow Man S’pan went on, almost in tears. "How do you think we, here in Rainbow Land, feel – after all the hard work the Guiding Power and I have put into our programmes of helpful psychic guidance to mankind – to find that our messages have been so willfully perverted out of all recognition…

                "… Gutted, Sir! That’s how we feel. But, being what we are, we always have to appear cheerful in the face of adversity… You know, Sir – a bit like yourself. We carry on laughing on the outside, but still do a lot of crying on the inside. And this is why, really, you've become our very last vestige of hope on planet Earth of getting the correct mythical message across, and setting your lousy, rotten species on fast-track towards animate perfection…

                                                                                     *******

And there ends the extract as far as this article is concerned: Since, it more than adequately inspired me to add an appropriate adjunct to Cosmicianity and also pay homage to that poor, little, rascal, Rainbow Man S’pan of my imaginary spiritual realm. The word’s to be Panarchic in our world, whilst hopefully serving to get Rainbow Man S’pan rebooted in Its. AMEN!

Cosmically yours,

Brian

Cosmos Coconut Club

Sri Lanka

PS: Just for good measure, fellow travellers: Forget the highfaluting handle: Just remember and practice its message: And call yourself a Cosmic! ILUMS!