Long have we been called pagan by the commonweal; and it is a name which came from being forced into the deep forests and the solemn mountains when our numbers dwindled as a consequence of the genocide of the inquisition. Yet as we return to the cities we search the world for our friends - those other civilizations that were our allies during the time of our peak of glory. Yet, are we then alone against this savage civilization created by the monotheistic devils who murdered and tortured us for three hundred years or more. We search the world for a hint that the Empires of Khem with their compatible perceptions & joyous celebrations still exist somewhere; and find only the blowing desert winds against the eroded pyramids. Yet, with their noble Sun Kings gone where do we search for our beloved brother Kings? Where are our old friends? Has the cult of the dead man destroyed completely our world civilization? What of the great Roman Empire with its mighty warriors - are they lost from the dawn of time? Has the Phoenicians with its illustrated and carved wooded ships gone from the seas of the earth? Have the mighty Sons of Odin gone to join their Gods in Asgard? What of the Arabian Sorcerer Chief with his date wine, his wit and his ancient magick that we loved so dearly? Has the illiterate camel driver who saw the Jewish angel prevailed against the gracious Arabian Night?
Are we then alone with no one left alive from the time of Our glorious civilization? We see only the stone age mystics who no longer awaken the ancient wisdom but have crumbled bread where there were mighty banquets; and naive insight where there was once the Oracle of the Gods. We see only the ramblings of wretched tones from savage Governments with no spirit, freedom crushed by the multitude of laws, and men who are slaves to the very dogma that they consider honorable and good. Where, indeed, are our friends? Is it then our destiny and will be to be a hermit from the multitudes where we know that the danger is too great to arise to the call of duty where civilization is too savage for us. Must we then veil the shrine permanently and keep our Temples secret from the world?
Where is My Civilization now? No longer does the Priestess of Vanatur guard the Temple of Ahahit upon the birth of the child of the city. No longer do our warriors with our black steeds thunder the earth into battle with the war cry of Ar upon our raging lips. No longer is the melting of the Priest and Priestess of None into the ecstasy of the starry beyond. No longer is the Kingdom of Armenia seen by the world as an Empire of Elites who arose as a race of conquerors from the Womb of Ahahit.
We came back from the forests & mountains and found no friends; all world civilization dead & replaced by the abomination of desolation. The breath of life on earth all but strangled by a dead man, an illiterate and false elite Government.
So therefore, we face this dark and deadly civilization alone; and we have found ways not to die – therefore we shall once again arise to the occasion by giving the world the very best of what was - and to do this we do hereby acknowledge Our Sun God to Sit upon the Throne until His Formula has readjusted the world Temple.
Shall peace avail the world when adjustment has been established? I know not, for the will of the Gods moves in ways beyond the knowledge of mortal man; and We know that someone, somewhere is stirring to greet us as friends, to understand us – and where there was once desolation, understanding shall come to greet us – an unexpected joy.
I was eleven years old when I first read this article by my Grandfather. He had written an earlier version of it years before and was dissatisfied with it. As his English improved he corrected many documents giving us a a truer translation. At eleven I was very naive as most young man that age are; and I went into the study where it was setting with all the other piles of papers and read it. I remember being very concerned about it; and wondering if all our friends were gone. We were still worshiping the Gods. Why was he saying this? My Grandfather came into the room; and said all smiles, in an apparent good mood. Watta say, there, Baron? His pun on the word Baron had become a ritual. I exclaimed with a smile. I am not a Baron, I'm a Prince which he would always laugh. (I took a breath of relief, whatever had happened hadn't phased my Grandfather) It took me years to understand the passion and pain that he knew by writing this Geometry; and later on insights on what went on with the horrors of the inquisition and that part of my family history where we were all forced into places all but cut off from civilization for decades to survive the rack and wait the time where those who knew of our existence would give up there hunt for our lives. Yet all this was explained to me; and I regret not having the period of history where it all occurred. The quote from his diary that I've included below the title above, by the way, completely took me by surprise after I was allowed to see his old writings. It is an amusing example of how a Priest of Tir manifests his force with that wit that verges on near mischief. If true, concerning the hereafter than it is a most startling revelation for those concerned who have to face our Gods; and if in jest is most certainly cause for meditation on how someone could amuse themselves so cleverly at everyone's expense. I never knew whether to take it seriously or not.