Alchemy and Art
The alchemists of old are a very misunderstood lot in general. A lot of this came about during the inquisition.
During the inquisition, alchemists told the Catholic Church that they were trying to turn lead into gold so that the church would leave them alone. The church was greedy and power hungry enough to let the alchemists be on the off chance that they might actually succeed and turn lead into gold.
Alchemists knew how unlikely this was for alchemy was where modern scientific methods of objective observation and experimentation started.
Alchemists were tarred with the reputation of being quacks who thought they could do outlandish things like turn lead into gold but, from very early on, the alchemists knew that the Universe worked in certain ways, and whatever was created must be created by following the Universe's laws.
In Germany, Niche made a statement to the effect that there was great irony in the Nazi's obsession with racial supremacy, since there was no such thing as a pure German!
He could make this statement with complete confidence because he knew ?there is nothing pure in this world,' as Billy Idol chants at the end of ?White Wedding.'
I don't know if Billy Idol is an alchemist but it's true what he is saying. There is not one thing in this Universe that is not made up of (a multiple) of other elements. This goes for objects and people and thoughts-everything!
Every race that holds itself up as pure has within it genetic material from many other races before it. It has to.
Think about religion. (Yikes!!) If you take a church full of people, you'll have as many different opinions about God as there are people in it. When that particular religion reaches its critical mass, you'll have reformation and new forms of the same religion. Take the Lutheran Church, for example. There is really no difference between it and the Catholic Church. It's just in English, and you got an entirely new church for that.
This is the law and way of the Universe. This is how things are created in the Universe; two things come together and a third thing is synthesized out of their parts or characteristics. In other words, nothing comes from nothing. There is nothing that just appears as ?a bolt out of the blue,' without something coming before it.
The same is true for ideas. It is impossible to have an idea that has absolutely no relation to any other ideas.
I think that this is why Abraham-Hicks recommends 'pivoting,' since they know how related one idea is to another, making it very difficult to make large changes in thinking suddenly.
Solve Et Coagula
This means that nothing ever ceases to exist, either. The system may reach a point of maximum entropy, meaning that what it has to handle exceeds its capacity and, yes, it may break down, but it won't disappear. It can't.
It will be absorbed and combined, if you will, into a new more sophisticated system. The Universe wastes nothing. It's very efficient in this way.
Let's return to the subject of alchemy and art.
Every once and awhile, you hear of someone who says that they are channeling some famous artist from the past and every brush-stroke and technique is straight from this past artist. It is, in other words, claimed to be new art straight from this artist.
This leaves me a bit skeptical. More importantly you will notice that these events create barely a blip in the art world, but it brings us to a very interesting question;
Suppose you had Beethoven for a guide. Would this mean that you would become a passive channel while Beethoven wrote his tenth symphony through you?
Another way to look at this same question is; what if Beethoven were born in a different time, say the present day and age. Would he still write music that sounded like the Beethoven we all know and love?
Would it be ?pure Beethoven?' Would you channel ?pure Beethoven?'
I think you know the answer to this.
The answer is no, because even Beethoven was not ?pure Beethoven.'
The musical historians have loved to wax poetic and describe Beethoven as a ?bolt from the blue.' More than any other artist, people want to say that there was nothing like him ever before. He is given the honor, again by music historians, of more or less defining the classical period in music. The dates of his birth and death are generally given as the beginning and end to the classical period.
They say he broke all the rules. They say that the innovations he introduced in music ?enabled' the romantic period of music that came afterwards.
Now I'm not trying to take anything away from Beethoven. He has always been one of my greatest passions in music. Unquestionably one of the most innovative minds in music, but it is quite easy to trace Beethoven's influences.
In Beethoven, you can hear Haydn, Mozart, Handel, Haydn, J.C. Bach, (did I mention Haydn?) and many others, all filtered through this unique set of musical tastes that was Ludwig Van Beethoven. Many elements of Beethoven's style had already been set in motion; there was already the ?Heroic style' of pianoforte playing and the ?Sturm und Drang' movement was in motion. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sturm_und_Drang
In music school, we were always required to analyze the music of great past composers and often we were given a sort of template to a musical form, such as the sonata form. There was great temptation to be led into thinking that a sonata always followed the template that was given, especially since that was the answer that would allow you to pass your exams.
When you picked up the first sonata by Beethoven or Mozart, though, it was almost kind of comical. They followed the ?standard' sonata form.kind of. Mozart's slight innovations in his famous C Major Sonata render the key relationships that are supposed to be so important in the sonata form almost meaningless.
So they didn't so much break all the rules as they tweaked them to suit their own tastes.
When I discuss this with others, the question invariably comes up as to just what was their criterion? What rules did they follow to create such great music?
My answer is that this was music the way they wanted to hear it. They already had music of other composers that they knew and loved, so their tastes in music were quite well developed and sophisticated from an early age.

We Open for Hunter S. Thompson
Of the many groups that I have played in, one stands alone as being the weirdest and manned (O.K., personed!) by the largest collection of crazies and neurotics, hence a band and a place I will always have a warm spot in my heart for; D.O.M.E.S.
It's an acronym for something I've chosen to forget, but basically billed as a 'post modern orchestra.' There were usually a dozen members of this group. I played electric violin; I attached a pick-up to the bridge of my Carcassi violin and fed it into a cube amp.
Everyone in this group was amped, their instruments as well. This group boasted two electric keyboards, an electric guitar and an electric bass as well as an acoustic bass that was also amped. It had a large range of percussion from a standard drum kit to xylophone.
All members of the group were composers and contributed music, so perhaps you can imagine how intensely neurotic the ambiance was. A knife was required to cut through the tension in the air at any average rehearsal and pre-concert activities usually included a really large shouting match between at least two or three of the members, with the manager of the club giving us looks like; 'is there gonna be a show, or what?'
"Hey, we're D.O.M.E.S.! Everything's NORMAL."
The concerts would always go off without a hitch, leaving the audience in a really loud shouting match; half of them loving us and half of them hating us.
Then we knew we had been a success, and would go off to spend a comraderly time in a pub, letting the riot we had created take care of itself.
"Hey, we're D.O.M.E.S.! Everything's NORMAL."
The music we played was post modern and minimalist. If you're not familiar with that, it doesn't matter; the stuff we played was weird. For example, our founding member and fearless leader, Bill, wrote an opera based on the characters from the Tarot deck. It was called 'Tarot Terror.'
D.O.M.E.S. played many interesting places, but the concert that will always stand out, in my mind, was when we played the Coach House in San Juan Capistrano and opened for Hunter S. Thomson.
We took this as a testimony to how truly weird we were, that Hunter S had picked us out of a pile of candidates to open for him. I still feel it was one of the great honors of my life, since Hunter has always been one of my main mentors and role models, and to be selected by him, validated as it were, well, what more can I say?
We were all as charged as could be about this, but, at first, it looked as if it might not come off. The concert was postponed at least twice, once Mr. Thomson claiming to have been injured while falling from his riding mower.
After nearly a week of this tension, the word finally came that the concert was really going to happen.
Playing the Coach House was, in itself, quite the honor as this is a famous venue and practically everyone famous has played there.
The night of the concert, we drove on down to San Juan Capistrano and played our usual set. There was quite a delay after this as Mr. Thomson was late. There were rumors that he was having some misgivings about playing the Coach House as, I guess technically San Juan Capistrano is part of Orange County which is notoriously conservative. My violin teacher Dimitrie attributed this to the Bible Belt coming and settling there. This could be true, I suppose, it is, after all, the home of the Crystal Cathedral.
The word was that Hunter S. made certain, last minute conditions for his appearance, one being that they had to send a limo to get him, and the other being that they had to have a bottle of his favorite whiskey waiting for him, on a table, on stage.
He finally showed up, with a body guard who accompanied him on stage and sat with him the entire time. Hunter was quite drunk already and proceeded to get much more so.
The rumors of his apprehension about a conservative audience seemed to bear out. It was a college crowd, looking like they were from places like Cal State Fullerton; hence there were quite a number of the younger set who really didn't know who the man was. This was before the movie 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.'
Many were offended by him. Go figure. He was oft staggering to his feet, barely able to stand, berating them for who they were. It was great.
We sat up in the little rooms upstairs like the V.I.P.s we were and listened to the lecture on the stereo system.
But I digress.
Whilst we were waiting for Mr. Thomson to show, my erstwhile friend, band mate and roomie, Michael and I decided to step outside for a smoke. Yes, the sort of smoke that one passes back and forth in a pipe. Hey, didn't I just explain who we were and where we were? Don't make me say it again.
So there we were, standing right out in the back parking lot of the Coach House when who should show up, but the most unexpected guest of the evening! (No, it wasn't Hunter S. and we didn't get high with him)
It was Mr. CHP Cruiser! Unexpected to us, anyway!
We said something like; "NGahhahhhaa!" and I stuck the pipe in my pocket, as we started to walk quickly away.
The only question here was; who was Cheech and who was Chong?
What does Mr. CHP Cruiser do? He stops and beckons us back. An invitation we couldn't refuse.
"Howdy" we say. "Problem?"
He asks us what we were doing out there.
Meanwhile, I become aware that the pipe in my pocket is still smoking. I can smell it quite well.
I'm ready to give it away, at this point, figuring the jig is up. Usually an ace bull shitter, in a pinch, I'm starting to smile and laugh at Mr. CHP Cruiser. I figure my face is giving us away, if nothing else, but what does Michael start to do? He starts bullshitting Mr. Chip, like there's no tomorrow!
Michael starts to explain that we are band members and have just gotten through playing our set and we wanted to discuss the quality of our performance away from the other band members. I don't know about the quality of our performance on stage, but this was one of the best I had ever seen.
By the time Mike was done with Mr. Chip, the man actually apologized and said that sometimes people came out back there and made drug deals.
We acted shocked and appalled that such things went on, but Mike assured Mr. Chip that we were not offended and we understood that he was just doing his job.
And that was a lesson for us all, thanks to my buddy Mike.

Even though writing music and being a composer seemed to always be sort of my first love, it seemed wise to major as an instrumentalist and stand a better chance at making a living. I majored on the violin. I selected it because I had fallen in love with the great body of wonderful music there was for this instrument. Certain violin works absolutly electrofied me.
I auditioned and was accepted to the Peabody School of Music in Baltimore under the tutilage of Beryl Senofsky, who was the first american to win the Queen Elisabeth of Belgium Competition.
My desire to compose music stayed with me, but I seemed to embark on a quest for the new music. As I have written on my website; http://www.dizzyobrian.com , and several other places, I began to listen to all types of music.
For awhile, I suppose, I entertained the notion that I was on some sort of mission to write this new music . As time went on, I realized that practically every era had a
new music that folks considered to be cutting edge; the ultimate cool. I realized that what was most important to a composer was what sounds were most pleasing to the composer's own ear.

I tend to think of everyone as an artist, either established or in the making. Even if they are established, they are still in the making because, as I understand it now, we are all here to engage in a never ending creative process.
I think one of the formative experiences I had that got me interested in music was seeing the movie 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, as a young child. I was so impressed with the character of Captain Nemo, playing Taccata and Fugue on his pipe organ aboard the Nautilus.
Later, I scrounged around in my parents record collection and found Beethoven's Sixth symphony and fell deeply in love. Thus began my formal music training.
There was a stop, on the way, at a neighbor friend's house and a group called the Beatles.

Chapter Four; Ahmoset and the Burned City.

As the crimson sky darkened, the rest of the work party settled in; their tents, circus like, circling the tent of the two high priests, but at a respectful distance.
Architect May was the only one who did not wish to hold all high priests at a metaphorical arm's length. He well knew how similar the lot of the scribe and the artisan was to that of the high priest; those who knew the 'magick' of the written word or the 'magick' of mathematics, as did Ay.
The early evening had brought a bit of noise and clamor, but this petered-out soon enough as most were exhausted from the day's labors and needed rest.
Only May and his right-hand men, and the priests; those who had not participated as directly and continuously in the actual work still had energy to remain awake hours into the night.
True to his word, as always, Ay arranged for May and Osorkon to meet. May and his upper echelon were invited to the tent of the high priests for a session of libations and story telling.
All were quite excited over this prospect, for they all knew, except Osorkon, that this would mainly consist of Osorkon's telling of the tale of Ahmoset; a figure largely mythical in the minds of most.
Neophytes ascending to administrative positions in the order were told only of this one; that should they ever actually encounter him, he always did whatever he wanted. Under no circumstance was it healthy to oppose him in thought, word or deed.
Rumors were constant that he was dead, only to be periodically upset by his re-appearance, which would coincidentally coincide with the most turbulent of times, leading to the speculation that he was the cause of everything getting turned upside down.
Someone who had actually known him, for a few years yet, was already a legend in their own time.
So May and his men gathered in the tent of the high priests, Osorkon and Ay, that first night, in what was to become a nightly ritual on this particular 'job.'
Fortunately May also believed in packing a lot of 'extreme condition' supplies, so libations were plentiful, and on this first night libations went around and initial formalities and introductions were observed.
Presently, it was time for things to get down to business, and May looked over to Ay, as a sort of signal.
Taking his queue, Ay said;
"Well, Osorkon, dear boy, I think our honored guest Architect May, would really enjoy hearing the story of your time with Ahmoset, as would I, as well."
"Architect May would love to hear that story" May clarified. "That is, all the parts you are at liberty to tell, of course, we wouldn't expect you to divulge any information that you are sworn to keep, as I am quite certain there is some of that."
"I don't know where to start, really" Osorkon began modestly.
"Silly boy!" said Ay. "Start with the day you and I first met on the steps of the temple as Neophytes; the day you disappeared! Here I am, your best friend in the world, and I know nothing about you for two years after the first day we met!"
Osorkon acquiesced to Ay's request, and began his tale; the Tale of Ahmoset and the Burned City;
"As Ay said, the two of us met on our first day at the temple, waiting on the steps with the others who had been accepted for initiation. Well did the two of us hit it off from the start and we were engaged in lively conversation about where we were from and what we thought the future would hold for us. Little did we know, of course!"
"Our talk was interrupted by Ay getting called inside, I'm presuming for his assignment to a teacher.
It seemed as if I sat there for only a few minutes more, when suddenly a great shadow fell over me. I thought a cloud had blocked the sun, but when I looked up, I saw a giant of a man, standing over me! He was clad in black robes, with a black hood drawn over his head, so that I could not even see his face, but I did think I saw his eyes, shining there in the darkness of the hood, like two stars in the night.
'Osorkon' he said, and not like a question, but just as if he knew.
'Yes, sir..' I managed to stammer, for great was my shock and surprise, and yes, fear, of this figure that loomed over me, a young neophyte, still wet behind the ears.
'Well?' he demanded, 'What are you waiting on? Let's get going! There's not much time!'
'Going?' I asked, timidly, hoping that what I was hearing was not true.
'Yes! I am your teacher! You are assigned to me! Don't tell me you are going to begin your lessons by questioning your teacher? I'll tell you right now, I don't abide by anything of that sort! Now, quit wasting my time, and let's get going!'
'Y-yes sir!' I stammered, not wishing to get him more upset, for he already seemed a terrible tempest in human form!
So it was, that I set off with the great Ahmoset, not having the slightest idea who he was, not having the nerve to ask for any written verification of who he was, or if I had really been assigned as his student.
Great was my fear, mind you! You can believe that many doubts and fears were running through my mind. Who was he?, I wondered.
Was he even a member of the order? Why was I the only pupil assigned to him, or so it seemed. Where was he taking me, and why did we not seem to be making for any temple?
I rode with him, on the back of his camel; to the place he called 'The Compound.' Where this is or was I cannot say, for certain. I know that we initially traveled southeast from Juno, but during the last few leagues, he blind-folded me, so that I don't really know if we kept traveling straight in our original direction, or double-backed or turned, or what. It seemed to me that we went over some hills or mountains of some type, and when we arrived, at our destination, we were at the base of some hills on the edge of some desert."
"This compound of his was an elaborate series of caves; some of which were his living quarters, some were where he did his 'work,' and some were, according to him, passageways into other dimensions or worlds. He explained that some of these other dimensions were our own world, but in a different time; some in the future and some in the past, but he warned that some were places uninhabitable to humans. He gave me very specific and strict instructions as to which parts of the compound I could enter and which parts I should never go into, under the utmost peril of my life and soul!
He warned me also that 'visitors,' as he called them often came through the different passageways, and if I didn't have the 'stomach' for it, as he put it, I should stay in my own designated chamber during those times.
The first few months that I lived there, I lived in continuous wracking, irrational fear, for it was not long before I saw some of the visitors he spoke of!
One, in particular was a purple pyramid of light that would pass through, pause for a bit, and then return to wherever it had come from.
Now, there were other humans there, at the compound, which was good for me, because they were nice to me, and sympathetic to my situation. One in particular who went by the name Teke Tek, was very helpful to me in pulling me through this first period, as I really saw very little of the one we call 'Ahmoset,' at first. I will explain the reason for this, presently.
But, as I have said, there were these two other humans; Teke Tek, and another called Amul.
Teke Tek spoke our language the best of the two, even though he told me he was from a land far across the waters, where he was a high priest in a kingdom that rivals ours in size, splendor and riches. He had, across the front of his body, scars, from when his own people turned against him and tried to remove his heart, as a living sacrifice to their gods, after he had suggested that their gods really needed no such sacrifices, and that the people ought to do away with such things or they would be doomed to die-out, and would not be able to continue living into the future.
Through Teke Tek's translating, I found that Amul was from the far southern lands, where the sun burns things away. He also felt that such sacrifices were the invention of men and the gods cared not for these things; however he had been wise and remained silent.
I learned from these two that they and Ahmoset were united by agreement on these kinds of things and all of them were living in virtual exile from their own people and cultures.
They told me that they were not simply in hiding, however, but were engaged in something that they called the Great Work.
They said that, at that time, the Great Work for them was essentially three fold; they were working at setting the old knowledge straight, first of all, for they believed that it had been so tampered with and changed by men, that now there were scarcely a few individuals who knew anymore how it really should go.
The second part of their work was the preservation of this knowledge for future generations and the third and final part was to seal-up the passageways that led to the past, so that mankind could only go forwards, into the future.
They explained that the compound was on a site they referred to as a vortex, and this was why it had so many strange doorways into other worlds."
"I remember one time, we were all together, even Ahmoset, and I naively asked why they didn't just seal-up the passageways to the past with stone.
Well, they all had hysterics over this, but once again, Teke Tek, being the nicest one, put his hand on my shoulder and said;
'It's far more complicated than that, little one. All these doorways are really in the minds of all humans, so you might be able to see how complicated the situation is.'"
Suddenly, Osorkon's discourse was interrupted by May putting his fingers to his lips.
"Shhh!" he said, pointing to the side of the tent, where two large shadows could be seen. May made signs to two of his men, who scurried under the wall of the tent, on the other side.
Presently sounds of a scuffle were heard, as Mays men brought in two of Takelot's 'guards.'
"What were you two doing outside this tent?" May demanded of them. "Answer honestly now, or these two priests will send you flying through space!"
The two guards regarded the priests rather fearfully.
"Please don't do that!" One finally stammered. "We were just standing guard, as ordered."
"For your own protection" the other chimed in.
"Please extend our thanks to Takelot, but tell him it's not required. As you can see, we are perfectly able to protect ourselves" said May. "Let them go."
The two guards were released and wasted no time in making their exit.
"The hour grows late" said May. "Others have a strenuous day ahead, and we must over-see them to be sure it is all done right. I hope we may continue this tale on the marrow."
"Of course" Osorkon said.
"And we will post guards of our own, then, for this tale is not for some ears" May said, gathering himself up.
"Truly said!" said Osorkon.
The next day brought another slow, tedious trek across the sands and another of many meetings between May and his men, with the priests, in their tent when night had come. This night, and every night afterwards, May set a couple of his own men outside to watch.
Again, after libations, Osorkon continued his story;
"Now, in the first six months, I saw little of Ahmoset, and presently I learned from Amul and Teke Tek the reason for this, or rather, the reason I though I was not seeing Ahmoset; for you see, one of his great powers was that of a shape-shifter. In this art, he was reputed to be without peer, in his younger days, but, at the time I knew him, he had released all these powers and others, and was stuck in a cycle of transmutation into former incarnations, that seemed to be governed by the cycles of the moon!
He was, at that time, somewhat frantically involved in Alchemical work to balance-out the elements of his past incarnations, in hopes that his involuntary transformations would cease and he would remain in human form.
One of his forms was reputedly terrible to see, and quite dangerous to humans, as it was a giant man-eating crocodile. I say reputedly, for I never witnessed it personally; Teke Tek took pains to engage me in games of Senet, in our private chambers, either his or mine, whenever the croc was about.
It is, by the way, how I became so expert at the game. The crocodile mainly roamed the lower passageways of the labyrinths, where underground streams ran, and fish were to be had.
Another of his forms was that of an ape. This one I had personal experience of, as I met it, by accident, one day, as it was rummaging through a chamber where we had food stored. I thought it had wandered in from some nearby glade, in the mountains, and I took up a staff and attempted to chase it out, with the result of it attacking me by surprise, seizing the staff from my hands and quite getting the better of me.
I had to flee from it, and decided it could have whatever food it could help itself to, as there was easily food for years to come, stored in those caves.
Later, I asked Amul and Teke Tek, if either of them had a pet monkey, and they looked at each other with their eyes so wide;
'You saw him?' Teke Tek asked.
'Who?' said I.
'The monkey.' he says.
'Yes.' I said.
I was told to just leave the monkey be, and it would cause no harm, but the one rule about the monkey was that it was, under no circumstances, to be allowed into Ahmoset's quarters. We were to make absolutely certain that Ahmoset's door was bolted and locked, when the monkey was around, as it would try to sabotage a certain magical work of Ahmoset's.
Naturally I said that I thought that was a very odd thing, indeed, that a monkey would try to upset a sorcerer's magical workings. I asked why that could be, and they said that the monkey did not wish to be a human.
I asked if Ahmoset was trying to turn the monkey into a human, and they replied it was something like that. This was before I knew the entire nature of Ahmoset's working's and circumstance, so you can well imagine what fears went through my head, imagining Ahmoset to be up to the very pinnacle of blasphemous work!

"After a period of about six lunar cycles, Ahmoset's alchemical work succeeded and his involuntary transformations ceased; with him remaining in his human form, of course.
By then, I had become much bolder, as a result of living through all the strange things that had happened around the compound, so I pressed him about when my formal lessons would begin.
He informed me that he had no lesson plan for me other than to help me remember who I was. He said that if I recovered that memory, my powers and knowledge would return as well.
Here Osorkon paused, half expecting another wise-crack from someone, but his audience was wide-eyed and silent.
I told him, of course, that I believed I did know who I was, but he assured me that I was in error, in this respect. He informed me that, up until then, I only had knowledge of who society had made me to be.
However, rather than go into the lengthy process that he put me through to cause my memory to return, I will move on to the really pertinent tale that this, and, dare I say, our presence in the desert here tonight, all ties into; and that is the story of the stone, and the burned city."
There were some audible sounds of agreement, from May and some of the others.
"I see that you have heard of these things before.
Well, here is the complete tale as told to me by Ahmoset himself;
It is a tale that involves Takelot, as I'm sure you can guess.
Ahmoset described the man to me, as he was in his younger years; he was an easy-going sort, one who was quick to laugh and enjoy a joke. A friendly sort of fellow was he. Then, he had no obsessions, rather if it is to be said he had a weakness, it was simply a curiosity over things ancient.
This was a hobby or study of his; to dig up ancient artifacts in an effort to learn or study the culture and people who once owned them.
According to Ahmoset, this was an entirely innocent endeavor with the man, and never did he dig or disturb places that were the old resting spots of kings or pharaohs gone by, nor even the tombs of common folk.
This all changed, however, in the space of one particular expedition.
One day, news came to Takelot, of the ruins of a city, long buried, but now uncovered by the desert winds, far out, near the ancient city of Uruk.
Takelot journeyed to this place, with some of his friends, in what was, at that time, one of their innocent explorations. He returned alone, claiming that their expedition had run into considerable bad luck, with one of his friends perishing of a strange disease, and the rest getting way-layed by robbers, he being the only survivor.
It was after this that Ahmoset began to notice a strange change in Takelot.
The man became secretive and avoided the company of his fellows. This is not such an odd thing, for a priest may go through many phases, but after Ahmoset engaged Takelot in conversation, only once, he became convinced that Takelot was not the same man, and not just changed in a way that such a traumatic experience as Takelot reputedly had in the desert, being way-layed by thieves, and losing his friends, but changed in the sense of being inter-changed."
There was an audible gasp from May, who said, in nearly a whisper;
"You're speaking of possession."
"Yes," said Osorkon and continued with his dialog;
"Soon Ahmoset decided he must go into the desert around Uruk, and check things out for himself. He did find this place, but the wind had covered most of it up again, in fact, Ahmoset saw, that in a very short time the whole place would be beneath the sand once more."
"Just like everything" May said. "Even the Sphinx would be gone, if we didn't un-bury it, every fifty years or so."
"Exactly" agreed Aye.
Osorkon once again took up the thread of his story;
"Ahmoset went into Uruk, and after weeks of speaking with folks there, happened onto a couple of old priests who knew the story of this dead city.
At first, they were determined to tell Ahmoset nothing, but when he told them of a fellow priest, from his order, who had dug into this place, and returned a possessed man, the two old priests looked absolutely terrified.
After a lengthy conference between themselves, they decided they must tell Ahmoset the whole story.
This was a tale, it turned out, that these two ancient ones had survived to tell, of an occurrence that took place in that city, in the days of their youth, when they were new to their order.
Now you must understand, that from the oldest times, certain priests have always searched for a quick, sure way to enlightenment, or god-head.
This might sound strange, to some, but you must reflect that those who sought this 'short way,' were concerned, nay despairing, of the magnitude of a certain task that they saw as set before them, and the un-believable amount of time that had passed and was passing, and lay before.
This task was not the attainment of a few, as is in the popular belief, but the attainment of all.
As you perceive, no small event, but something beyond the scope of most human imaginations, and those who have adhered to this idea have always been the most zealous and un-shakable in the belief that this was the only right thing and what was meant to be from the beginning.
Furthermore, many of these folks foresaw the times we now live in, when the Way has swept away to the four winds, as it were.
There has been so much meddling with the ancient texts, that there is now not a soul around who knows how it should go, and this is the only justification one can make for the certain few of this sand-sunken city, who engaged in an experiment, and in so doing made a dreadful mistake.
Certain priests or a certain priest of this place somehow devised or came across a particular hieroglyph that not only invoked the original primal essence of consciousness, but also diverted the human rational mind, as if sending it down a maze, to the effect that, the further a person's mind traveled down this diversionary route, the more difficult it was for it to return.
In a very short span of time, this person's rational mind was in a more or less permanent dream state, and, so, effectively out of the picture for good.
This practice or invention would seem to follow the doctrine that it is our rational mind that blocks us from enlightenment, and that it is our rational thought process that must be shed, before we again enter the void from which consciousness originally arose.
It has oft been writ, that those who cross over have no more use for their old thought processes, nay that they no longer even live.
As to this particular experiment, however, the result was an utter disaster and blasphemy.
Without the experience and lessons of existence, which in humans is considerable, this new consciousness rapidly evolved into a being that had no conscience or regard for the human condition.
It saw and recognized no differentiation of being and apparently was moved primarily by an insatiable desire for expansion.
Hence, it began filling all the vessels around it."
"Vessels?" someone asked.
"Humans" said May. "The city experienced a mass possession."
"Exactly" agreed Osorkon "This new entity moved throughout the place taking folks over with a terrifying speed." So saying, he went on with the story;
"The hieroglyph in question was carved into a stone, a talisman, as it were. All that was needed was to show the stone to someone for the process of possession to begin.
Ironically, the possession could be interrupted by calling the person back, but of course, one would have to realize what was going on to do so. Even then, if the event was transpiring quite quickly all around you, in a city full of people, the odds are you would be fighting a losing battle.
This was precisely the situation the two priests found themselves in. By the time they fully realized what was happening, most of the inhabitants of the city were gone, replaced by one sinister mind. Even most of their own order had fallen.
They fled the city and managed to convince the high priests in the city of Uruk that disaster was eminent and something drastic had to be done right away.
They returned to their home city and, in the cover of darkness, sealed the city gates from the outside and then set fire to the place, burning it and everyone inside!"
Several of May's crew began making signs and mumbling spells of protection.
"That's the scariest tale I've heard!" one exclaimed, in a low voice.
"You haven't heard the worst of it, yet" May told them.
"Huh?" one said. They all cast a fearful gaze at Osorkon once again.
"You tell it, my revered May, since you've figured out the ending" said Osorkon.
An un-easy hush fell upon the group, and their attention returned to May.
"Takelot found the stone" May said evenly.
There were gasps of shocked terror, as realization dawned quickly on the group. Some got up suddenly, ready to make a mad run into the desert night.
"Sit!" May commanded them. "How far do you think you would get?" he said in hushed, but resolute voice.
Slowly, those who were standing, sat back down.
"Yes" said Osorkon. "Panic and fear are our enemies. I do not believe we are in immediate danger. The 'mind' is being much more careful, especially while surrounded by all of the Kingdom, this time. I believe it has worked out some kind of sinister scheme, this time. I believe our role in it is important, but brief, and it intends to eliminate us, once our work is through."
"Kind of like the old days" May mused.
"Yes. Similar in that we are all to be buried in this tomb, once our work is finished" agreed Osorkon.
"I trust you have a plan." May said.
"I do" said Osorkon. "We shall work slowly."
"That's your plan?" Ay asked.
"That's not all of it. We must also know the exact day of it's completion" said Osorkon
"That would be difficult, not knowing the exact nature of our role. Can you do this?" May inquired.
"I can" answered Osorkon.