I
think Hevelius saw
the imbalance caused
by abandoning
Thuban, by breaking
the golden spirit
level connecting the
equinoxes:
... The dream soul
went on. She was
careless (?) and
broke the kohe
plant with her feet.
She named the place
'Hatinga Te Koe A
Hau Maka O Hiva'.
The
dream soul went on
and came to Roto
Ire Are. She
gave the name 'Roto
Ire Are A Hau Maka O
Hiva'. The dream
soul went on and
came to Tama.
She named the place
'Tama', an
evil fish (he ika
kino) with a
very long nose (he
ihu roroa) ...
Instead of a pair of
equal halfspheres
covering 12h, one
for winter time and
one for the summer,
a single-minded time
of disorder began to
form the western
civilization - no
longer was there any
veneration for the
old, instead an
exclusive adoration
of what was young
and new:
"The
Romans claimed that
it was added by them
to the original
eleven signs, which
is doubtless correct
in so far as they
were concerned in
its modern revival
as a distinct
constellation, for
it first appears as
Libra in classical
times in the Julian
calendar¹
which Caesar as
pontifex maximus
took upon himself to
form, 46 B.C., aided
by Flavius, the
Roman scribe, and
Sosigenes, the
astronomer from
Alexandria.
¹ The much-vaunted
Julian calendar was
substantially the
same in its method
of intercalation as
that formed 238 B.C.
under Ptolemy III
(Euergetes), - a
fact discovered by
Lepsius, in 1866,
when he found the
Decree of Canopus
at Sanor Tanis.
Some have associated
Andrew Marvell's
line,
Outshining Virgo or
the Julian star,
with Libra, but this
unquestionably
referred to the
comet of 43 B.C.
that appeared soon
after, and, as
Augustus asserted,
in consequence of,
Caesar's
assassination in
September of that
year, being utilized
by the emperor and
Caesar's friends to
carry his soul to
heaven." (Allen)
I had to look up in
Wikipedia to see if
the assassination
was in September or
in March (which
Henrikson had
stated). It was in
March 15 in the year
44 B.C. Why then did
Augustus suggested
September was the
month? I guess the
reason was that
September was at the
Full Moon when
spring equinox was
in March. In a way
it was the same time
as March,
and Moon was the
time giver rather
than the Sun.
March equinox
around 76 B.C. could
have been the time
when the 'twins'
Thuban and Alrisha
were abandoned,
forced to by
the precession:
'Equinox
around 76
B.C. |
'March 22
(81) |
23 (448) |
'September
20 |
21 (264) |
'Equinox |
April 17
(107) |
18 |
19 (475) |
October 17
(290) |
18 |
19 |
|
|
|
Cb1-1 (393) |
Cb1-2 |
Cb1-3 |
E tupu -
ki roto |
o te hau
tea |
Al
Sharatain-1
/
Ashvini-1 /
Bond-16 |
ι Arietis
(28.0), λ
Arietis
(28.2) |
ALRISHA,
χ Phoenicis
(29.2),
Alamak
(29.7) |
Segin,
Mesarthim,
ψ Phoenicis
(27.2),
SHERATAN,
φ Phoenicis
(27.4) |
Muphrid
(210.1), ζ
Centauri
(210.3) |
φ Centauri
(211.0), υ¹
Centauri
(211.1), υ²
Centauri
(211.8), τ
Virginis
(211.9) |
Agena
(212.1), θ
Apodis
(212.5),
THUBAN
(212.8) |
From
that time the twin
stars Al Sharatain
were at the northern
spring equinox, and
probably this was
primarily due to the
force of the
preceding Polaris at
the opposite side of
the sky compared to
Thuban, the old star
at the pole. Alrisha,
the Knot
in Aries, had to be
abandoned at the
same time as Thuban,
because the First
Point in Aries had
become
more accurate.
The Polynesians were
hardly impressed by
the Sun as time
giver - he
did not have 'the
necessary stability':
… Mâ-û-i was
also a prophet; he
told the people that
there would come a
vaa ama ore [=
va'a ama 'ore =
vaka ama kore]
(canoe without an
outrigger) after
which would also
come a vaa taura
ore (canoe
without cordage),
which predictions
from prehistoric
times the priests
and bards faithfully
handed to their
people, always
puzzled to
understand how such
things could be,
until the arrival of
Captain Wallis,
whose ship had also
later been described
before it appeared
as the vaa ama
ore by more
modern
prophets. Those went
still further and
also described the
foreigners who would
bring it, and in due
time came before the
astonished people
the steamship
propelled without
rigging, and the
steam tug,
literally, without
cordage... (Teuira
Henry, Ancient
Tahiti.)
... At Opoa,
at one of the last
great gatherings of
the Hau-pahu-nui,
for idolatrous
worship, before the
arrival of European
ships, a strange
thing happened
during our [the two
priests of
Porapora,
Auna-iti and
Vai-au] solemn
festivity. Just at
the close of the
pa'i-atua
ceremony, there came
a whirlwind which
plucked off the head
of a tall spreading
tamanu tree,
named
Paruru-mata'i-i-'a'ana
(Screen-from-wind-of-aggravating-crime),
leaving the bare
trunk standing. This
was very remarkable,
as tamanu
wood is very hard
and close-grained.
Awe struck the
hearts of all
present. The
representatives of
each people looked
at those of the
other in silence for
some time, until at
last a priest of
Opoa named
Vaità
(Smitten-water)
exclaimed, - E
homa, eaha ta 'outou
e feruri nei?
(Friends, upon what
are you meditating?)
- Te feruri nei i te
tapa'o o teie ra'au
i motu nei; a'ita te
ra'au nei i motu mai
te po au'iu'i mai.
(We are wondering
what the breaking of
this tree may be
ominous of; such a
thing has not
happened to our
trees from the
remotest age), the
people replied. Then
Vaità feeling
inspired proceeded
to tell the meaning
of this strange
event… I see before
me the meaning of
this strange event!
There are coming the
glorious children of
the Trunk (God), who
will see these trees
here, in
Taputapuatea. In
person, they differ
from us, yet they
are the same as we,
from the Trunk, and
they will possess
this land. There
will be an end to
our present customs,
and the sacred birds
of sea and land will
come to mourn over
what this tree that
is severed teaches.
This unexpected
speech amazed the
people and sages,
and we enquired
where such people
were to be found.
Te haere mai nei na
ni'a i te ho'e pahi
ama 'ore. (They
are coming on a ship
without an
outrigger), was
Vaitàs reply.
Then in order to
illustrate the
subject, Vaità,
seeing a large
umete (wooden
trough) at hand,
asked the king to
send some men with
it and place it
balanced with stones
in the sea, which
was quickly done,
and there the
umete sat upon
the waves with no
signs of upsetting
amid the applauding
shouts of the
people. (Teuira
Henry, Ancient
Tahiti.)
The
beginning of the
time of the severed
tree was probably
understood as such
also among the
learned men of
Europe:
... The
seventh
tree is
the oak,
the tree
of Zeus,
Juppiter,
Hercules,
The
Dagda
(the
chief of
the
elder
Irish
gods),
Thor,
and all
the
other
Thundergods,
Jehovah
in so
far as
he was
'El',
and
Allah.
The
royalty
of the
oak-tree
needs no
enlarging
upon:
most
people
are
familiar
with the
argument
of Sir
James
Frazer's
Golden
Bough,
which
concerns
the
human
sacrifice
of the
oak-king
of Nemi
on
Midsummer
Day. The
fuel of
the
midsummer
fires is
always
oak, the
fire of
Vesta at
Rome was
fed with
oak, and
the
need-fire
is
always
kindled
in an
oak-log.
When
Gwion
writes
in the
Câd
Goddeu,
'Stout
Guardian
of the
door,
His name
in every
tongue',
he is
saying
that
doors
are
customarily
made of
oak as
the
strongest
and
toughest
wood and
that
'Duir',
the
Beth-Luis-Nion
name for
'Oak',
means
'door'
in many
European
languages
including
Old
Goidelic
dorus,
Latin
foris,
Greek
thura,
and
German
tür,
all
derived
from the
Sanskrit
Dwr,
and that
Daleth,
the
Hebrew
letter
D, means
'Door' -
the 'l'
being
originally
an 'r'.
Midsummer
is the
flowering
season
of the
oak,
which is
the tree
of
endurance
and
triumph,
and like
the ash
is said
to
'court
the
lightning
flash'.
Its
roots
are
believed
to
extend
as deep
underground
as its
branches
rise in
the air
- Virgil
mentions
this -
which
makes it
emblematic
of a god
whose
law runs
both in
Heaven
and in
the
Underworld
... The
month,
which
takes
its name
from
Juppiter
the
oak-god,
begins
on June
10th and
ends of
July
7th.
Midway
comes
St.
John's
Day,
June
24th,
the day
on which
the
oak-king
was
sacrificially
burned
alive.
The
Celtic
year was
divided
into two
halves
with the
second
half
beginning
in July,
apparently
after a
seven-day
wake, or
funeral
feast,
in the
oak-king's
honour.
Sir
James
Frazer,
like
Gwion,
has
pointed
out the
similarity
of
'door'
words in
all
Indo-European
languages
and
shown
Janus to
be a
'stout
guardian
of the
door'
with his
head
pointing
in both
directions.
As
usual,
however,
he does
not
press
his
argument
far
enough.
Duir as
the god
of the
oak
month
looks
both
ways
because
his post
is at
the turn
of the
year;
which
identifies
him with
the
Oak-god
Hercules
who
became
the
door-keeper
of the
Gods
after
his
death.
He is
probably
also to
be
identified
with the
British
god Llyr
of Lludd
or Nudd,
a god of
the sea
- i.e. a
god of a
sea-faring
Bronze
Age
people -
who was
the
'father'
of
Creiddylad
(Cordelia)
an
aspect
of the
White
Goddess;
for
according
to
Geoffrey
of
Monmouth
the
grave of
Llyr at
Leicester
was in a
vault
built in
honour
of
Janus.
Geoffrey
writes:
Cordelia
obtaining
the
government
of the
Kingdom
buried
her
father
in a
certain
vault
which
she
ordered
to be
made for
him
under
the
river
Sore in
Leicester
(Leircester)
and
which
had been
built
originally
under
the
ground
in
honour
of the
god
Janus.
And here
all the
workmen
of the
city,
upon the
anniversary
solemnity
of that
festival,
used to
begin
their
yearly
labours.
Since
Llyr was
a
pre-Roman
God this
amounts
to
saying
that he
was
two-headed,
like
Janus,
and the
patron
of the
New
Year;
but the
Celtic
year
began in
the
summer,
not in
the
winter.
Geoffrey
does not
date the
mourning
festival
but it
is
likely
to have
originally
taken
place at
the end
of June
... What
I take
for a
reference
to Llyr
as Janus
occurs
in the
closing
paragraph
of
Merlin's
prophecy
to the
heathen
King
Vortigern
and his
Druids,
recorded
by
Geoffrey
of
Monmouth:
After
this
Janus
shall
never
have
priests
again.
His door
will be
shut and
remain
concealed
in
Ariadne's
crannies.
In other
words,
the
ancient
Druidic
religion
based on
the
oak-cult
will be
swept
away by
Christianity
and the
door -
the god
Llyr -
will
languish
forgotten
in the
Castle
of
Arianrhod,
the
Corona
Borealis.
This
helps us
to
understand
the
relationship
at Rome
of Janus
and the
White
Goddess
Cardea
who is
... the
Goddess
of
Hinges
who came
to Rome
from
Alba
Longa.
She was
the
hinge on
which
the year
swung -
the
ancient
Latin,
not the
Etruscan
year -
and her
importance
as such
is
recorded
in the
Latin
adjective
cardinalis
- as we
say in
English
'of
cardinal
importance
- which
was also
applied
to the
four
main
winds;
for
winds
were
considered
as under
the sole
direction
of the
Great
Goddess
until
Classical
times.
As
Cardea
she
ruled
over the
Celestial
Hinge at
the back
of the
North
Wind
around
which,
as Varro
explains
in his
De Re
Rustica,
the
mill-stone
of the
Universe
revolves.
This
conception
appears
most
plainly
in the
Norse
Edda,
where
the
giantesses
Fenja
and
Menja,
who turn
the
monstrous
mill-stone
Grotte
in the
cold
polar
night,
stand
for the
White
Goddess
in her
complementary
moods of
creation
and
destruction.
Elsewhere
in Norse
mythology
the
Goddess
is
nine-fold:
the nine
giantesses
who were
joint-mothers
of the
hero
Rig,
alias
Heimdall,
the
inventor
of the
Norse
social
system,
similarly
turned
the
cosmic
mill.
Janus
was
perhaps
not
originally
double-headed:
he may
have
borrowed
this
peculiarity
from the
Goddess
herself
who at
the
Carmentalia,
the
Carmenta
Festival
in early
January,
was
addressed
by her
celebrants
as
'Postvorta'
and
'Antevorta'
- 'she
who
looks
both
back and
forward'.
However,
a Janus
with
long
hair and
wings
appear
on an
early
stater
of
Mellos,
a Cretan
colony
at
Cilicia.
He is
identified
with the
solar
hero
Talus,
and a
bull's
head
appears
on the
same
coin. In
similar
coins of
the late
fifth
century
B.C. he
holds an
eight-rayed
disc in
his hand
and has
a spiral
of
immortality
sprouting
from his
double
head.
Here at
last I
can
complete
my
argument
about
Arianrhod's
Castle
and the
'whirling
round
without
motion
between
three
elements'.
The
sacred
oak-king
was
killed
at
midsummer
and
translated
to the
Corona
Borealis,
presided
over by
the
White
Goddess,
which
was then
just
dipping
over the
Northern
horizon.
But from
the song
ascribed
by
Apollonius
Rhodius
to
Orpheus,
we know
that the
Queen of
the
Circling
Universe,
Eurynome,
alias
Cardea,
was
identical
with
Rhea of
Crete;
thus
Rhea
lived at
the axle
of the
mill,
whirling
around
without
motion,
as well
as on
the
Galaxy.
This
suggests
that in
a later
mythological
tradition
the
sacred
king
went to
serve
her at
the
Mill,
not in
the
Castle,
for
Samson
after
his
blinding
and
enervation
turned a
mill in
Delilah's
prison-house.
Another
name for
the
Goddess
of the
Mill was
Artemis
Calliste,
or
Callisto
('Most
Beautiful'),
to whom
the
she-bear
was
sacred
in
Arcadia;
and in
Athens
at the
festival
of
Artemis
Brauronia,
a girl
of ten
years
old and
a girl
of five,
dressed
in
saffron-yellow
robes in
honour
of the
moon,
played
the part
of
sacred
bears.
The
Great
She-bear
and
Little
She-bear
are
still
the
names of
the two
constellations
that
turn the
mill
around.
In Greek
the
Great
Bear
Callisto
was also
called
Helice,
which
means
both
'that
which
turns'
and
'willow-branch'
- a
reminder
that the
willow
was
sacred
to the
same
Goddess
...
Hercules
first
appears
in
legend
as a
pastoral
sacred
king
and,
perhaps
because
shepherds
welcome
the
birth of
twin
lambs,
is a
twin
himself.
His
characteristics
and
history
can be
deduced
from a
mass of
legends,
folk-customs
and
megalithic
monuments.
He is
the
rain-maker
of his
tribe
and a
sort of
human
thunder-storm.
Legends
connect
him with
Libya
and the
Atlas
Mountains;
he may
well
have
originated
thereabouts
in
Palaeolithic
times.
The
priests
of
Egyptian
Thebes,
who
called
him
Shu,
dated
his
origin
as
'17,000
years
before
the
reign of
King
Amasis'.
He
carries
an
oak-club,
because
the oak
provides
his
beasts
and his
people
with
mast and
because
it
attracts
lightning
more
than any
other
tree.
His
symbols
are the
acorn;
the
rock-dove,
which
nests in
oaks as
well as
in
clefts
of
rocks;
the
mistletoe,
or
Loranthus;
and the
serpent.
All
these
are
sexual
emblems.
The dove
was
sacred
to the
Love-goddess
of
Greece
and
Syria;
the
serpent
was the
most
ancient
of
phallic
totem-beasts;
the
cupped
acorn
stood
for the
glans
penis
in both
Greek
and
Latin;
the
mistletoe
was an
all-heal
and its
names
viscus
(Latin)
and
ixias
(Greek)
are
connected
with
vis
and
ischus
(strength)
-
probably
because
of the
spermal
viscosity
of its
berries,
sperm
being
the
vehicle
of life.
This
Hercules
is male
leader
of all
orgiastic
rites
and has
twelve
archer
companions,
including
his
spear-armed
twin,
who is
his
tanist
or
deputy.
He
performs
an
annual
green-wood
marriage
with a
queen of
the
woods, a
sort of
Maid
Marian.
He is a
mighty
hunter
and
makes
rain,
when it
is
needed,
by
rattling
an
oak-club
thunderously
in a
hollow
oak and
stirring
a pool
with an
oak
branch -
alternatively,
by
rattling
pebbles
inside a
sacred
colocinth-gourd
or,
later,
by
rolling
black
meteoric
stones
inside a
wooden
chest -
and so
attracting
thunderstorms
by
sympathetic
magic.
The
manner
of his
death
can be
reconstructed
from a
variety
of
legends,
folk-customs
and
other
religious
survivals.
At
mid-summer,
at the
end of a
half-year
reign,
Hercules
is made
drunk
with
mead and
led into
the
middle
of a
circle
of
twelve
stones
arranged
around
an oak,
in front
of which
stands
an
altar-stone;
the oak
has been
lopped
until it
is
T-shaped.
He is
bound to
it with
willow
thongs
in the
'five-fold
bond'
which
joins
wrists,
neck,
and
ankles
together,
beaten
by his
comrades
till he
faints,
then
flayed,
blinded,
castrated,
impaled
with a
mistletoe
stake,
and
finally
hacked
into
joints
on the
altar-stone.
His
blood is
caught
in a
basin
and used
for
sprinkling
the
whole
tribe to
make
them
vigorous
and
fruitful.
The
joints
are
roasted
at twin
fires of
oak-loppings,
kindled
with
sacred
fire
preserved
from a
lightning-blasted
oak or
made by
twirling
an
alder-
or
cornel-wood
fire-drill
in an
oak log.
The
trunk is
then
uprooted
and
split
into
faggots
which
are
added to
the
flames.
The
twelve
merry-men
rush in
a wild
figure-of-eight
dance
around
the
fires,
singing
ecstatically
and
tearing
at the
flesh
with
their
teeth.
The
bloody
remains
are
burnt in
the
fire,
all
except
the
genitals
and the
head.
These
are put
into an
alder-wood
boat and
floated
down the
river to
an
islet;
though
the head
is
sometimes
cured
with
smoke
and
preserved
for
oracular
use. His
tanist
succeeds
him and
reigns
for the
remainder
of the
year,
when he
is
sacrificially
killed
by a new
Hercules
... |
The
lamentations for the
death of Great Pan
came when Polaris
had been established
as the new star at
the pole:
'March 15 |
16 |
17 |
18 (77) |
19 |
20 (445) |
April 11 |
12 |
13 |
14 (104) |
15 (471) |
16 |
October 11 |
12 (285) |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
*Ca14-24 |
*Ca14-25 |
*Ca14-26 |
*Ca14-27 |
*Ca14-28 |
*Ca14-29 (392) |
te henua |
te honu kau |
manu kake rua |
te henua |
te honu |
te rima |
δ Phoenicis (21.5) |
no star listed (22) |
Achernar (23.3) |
no star listed (24) |
no star listed (25) |
ANA-NIA |
POLARIS, Baten Kaitos (26.6), Metallah (26.9) |
no star listed (204) |
Heze (205.0) |
ε Centauri (206.3) |
no star listed (207) |
τ Bootis (208.2), BENETNASH (208.5), ν Centauri (208.7), μ Centauri, υ Bootis (208.8) |
no star listed (209) |
...
Everyone has once
read, for it comes
up many times in
literature, of that
pilot in the reign
of Tiberius, who, as
he was sailing along
in the Aegean on a
quiet evening, heard
a loud voice
announcing that
'Great Pan was
dead'.
This engaging myth
was interpreted in
two contradictory
ways. On the one
hand, it announced
the end of paganism:
Pan with his pipes,
the demon of still
sun-drenched noon,
the pagan god of
glade and pasture
and the rural idyll,
had yielded to the
supernatural. On the
other hand the myth
has been understood
as telling of the
death of Christ in
the 19th year of
Tiberius: the Son of
God who was
everything from
Alpha to Omega was
identified with
Pan = 'All'.
Here is the story,
as told by a
character in
Plutarch's On why
oracles came to fail
(419 B-E):
The father of
Aemilianus the
orator, to whom some
of you have
listened, was
Epitherses, who
lived in our town
and was my teacher
in grammar. He said
that once upon a
time in making a
voyage to Italy he
embarked on a ship
carrying freight and
many passangers. It
was already evening
when, near the
Echinades Islands,
the wind dropped and
the ship drifted
near Paxi. Almost
everybody was awake,
and a good many had
not finished theire
after-dinner wine.
Suddenly, from the
island of Paxi was
heard the voice of
someone loudly
calling Thamus, so
that all were
amazed. Thamus was
an Egyptian pilot,
not known by name to
many on board. Twice
he was called and
made no reply, but
the third time he
answered; and the
caller, raising his
voice, said, 'When
you come opposite to
Palodes, announce
that Great Pan is
dead.'
On hearing this,
all, said
Epitherses, were
astounded and
reasoned among
themselves whether
it were better to
carry out the order
or to refuse to
meddle and let the
matter go. Under the
circumstances Thamus
made up his mind
that if there should
be a breeze, he
would sail past and
keep quiet, but with
no wind and a smooth
sea about the place
he would announce
what he had heard.
So, when he came
opposite Palodes,
and there was
neither wind nor
wave, Thamus from
the stern, looking
toward the land,
said the words as he
heard them: 'Great
Pan is dead'. Even
before he had
finished there was a
great cry of
lamentation, not of
one person, but of
many, mingled with
exclamations of
amazement.
As many persons were
on the vessel, the
story was soon
spread abroad in
Rome, and Thamus was
sent for by Tiberius
Caesar. Tiberius
became so convinced
of the truth of the
story that he caused
an inquiry and
investigation to be
made about Pan; and
the scholars, who
were numerous at his
court, conjectured
that he was the son
born of Hermes and
Penelope ...'
We
should remember Metoro's words
around Cb1-6
(16) - coinciding
with number 398 (not
counting day zero)
for the cycle of
Jupiter (Father
Light), another
candidate for Great
Pan. Should we not
add 16 to heliacal
Polaris and reach
Cb1-6?
'March
25 |
26 (85) |
27 (452) |
rutua
- te
pahu -
rutua te
maeva
-
atua
rerorero
- atua
hiko ura
- hiko o
tea - ka
higa te
ao ko te
henua ra
ma te
hoi atua |
'September
24 |
25 (268) |
26 |
April 21
(111)
|
22 (478) |
23 |
October
21 |
22 (295) |
23 |
|
|
|
Cb1-5 |
Cb1-6
(398) |
Cb1-7 |
η
Arietis
(31.9) |
no star
listed
(32) |
θ
Arietis
(33.3),
Mira
(33.7) |
Neck-2 |
Al
Ghafr-13
/
Svāti-15
TAHUA-TAATA-METUA-TE-TUPU-MAVAE |
ι Lupi,
18
Bootis
(216.3),
Khambalia
(216.4),
υ
Virginis
(216.5),
ψ
Centauri
(216.6),
ε Apodis
(216.8) |
Asellus
Tertius,
κ
VIRGINIS,
14
Bootis
(214.8) |
15
Bootis
(215.2),
ARCTURUS
(215.4),
Asellus
Secundus
(215.5),
SYRMA,
λ Bootis
(215.6),
η Apodis
(215.8) |
'March
28 |
29 |
30 (455) |
31 (90) |
'September
27 |
28 |
29 |
30 (273) |
April 24 |
25 |
26 (116) |
27 |
October
24 |
25 |
26 |
27 (300) |
|
|
|
|
Cb1-8 |
Cb1-9 |
Cb1-10 |
Cb1-11
(403) |
no star
listed
(34) |
ξ
Arietis
(35.0) |
no star
listed
(36) |
no star
listed
(37) |
Asellus
Primus
(217.8) |
τ Lupi
(218.1),
φ
Virginis
(218.7)
Fomalhaut |
σ Lupi
(219.1),
ρ Bootis
(219.5),
Haris
(219.7) |
σ Bootis
(220.2),
η
Centauri
(220.4) |
In Cb1-16 the
nightside string
connecting left
and right has
been broken. I
correlate rutua
- te pahu -
rutua te maeva
(sound of
drums, sound of
sky roof moving) with
the 16th Mayan
drum month
Pax
(peculiarly
similar in name to the
windless Aegean island
Paxi where
suddenly could
be heard a loud
voice calling
out).
|
|
200 |
|
13 Mac |
14 Kankin |
15 Moan |
|
|
|
|
16 Pax |
17 Kayab |
18 Cumhu |
19 Vayeb |
... There is a
sign, tun,
which occurs
both in 16
Pax and
19 Vayeb,
and it has been
identified as a
picture of a log
drum:
The tun
glyph was
identified as a
wooden drum by
Brinton ... and
Marshal H.
Saville
immediately
accepted it ...
[the figure
above] shows the
Aztec drum
representation
relied on by
Brinton to
demonstrate his
point. It was
not then known
that an
ancestral Mayan
word for drum
was *tun:
Yucatec
tunkul
'divine drum'
(?); Quiche
tun 'hollow
log drum';
Chorti tun
'hollow log
drum' ...
(Kelley)
The word tun
was used when
counting, for
instance
in katun
= 20 days, and
it had a glyph
of its own:
|
tun |
The [tun]
glyph is nearly
the same as that
for the month
Pax ...
except that the
top part of the
latter is split
or divided by
two curving
lines. Brinton,
without
referring to the
Pax
glyph,
identified the
tun glyph
as the drum
called in
Yucatec pax
che (pax
'musical
instrument';
che < *te
'wooden).
Yucatec pax
means 'broken,
disappeared',
and Quiche
paxih means,
among other
things, 'split,
divide, break,
separate'. It
would seem that
the dividing
lines on the
Pax glyph
may have been
used as a
semantic/phonetic
determinative
indicating that
the drum should
be read pax,
not tun
... Thus, one
may expect that
this glyph was
used elsewhere
meaning 'to
break' and
possibly for
'medicine' (Yuc.
pax,
Tzel., Tzo.
pox).
(Kelley)
The idea of
'break' agrees
with the picture
in Cb1-6 (where
1-6 presumably
is to be read as
16, the number
of the Pax
month)
...
Above I have
reversed the
Mayan drum lady
to 'translate'
the time order
to our own
convention,
reading from
left to right.
We can then see
her leg at
right, in front,
but maybe there
is a 'yoke'
here, uniting
her leg with the
left leg cut
with a knife from a
butchered
Jupiter. His
right leg could
be somewhere
else, perhaps
down in
Xibalba. The
strange package
in front of
Horus - similar
to a reversed
Phoenician
kaph -
contains a leg
and above there
is a knife:
Egyptian
hand |
|
Phoenician
kaph |
|
Greek
kappa |
Κ
(κ) |
Kaph
is
thought
to
have
been
derived
from
a
pictogram
of a
hand
(in
both
modern
Arabic
and
modern
Hebrew,
kaph
means
palm/grip)
...
...
The
manik,
with
the
tzab,
or
serpent's
rattles
as
prefix,
runs
across
Madrid
tz.
22 ,
the
figures
in
the
pictures
all
holding
the
rattle;
it
runs
across
the
hunting
scenes
of
Madrid
tz.
61,
62,
and
finally
appears
in
all
four
clauses
of
tz.
175,
the
so-called
'baptism'
tzolkin.
It
seems
impossible,
with
all
this,
to
avoid
assigning
the
value
of
grasping
or
receiving.
But
in
the
final
confirmation,
we
have
the
direct
evidence
of
the
signs
for
East
and
West.
For
the
East
we
have
the
glyph
Ahau-Kin,
the
Lord
Sun,
the
Lord
of
Day;
for
the
West
we
have
Manik-Kin,
exactly
corresponding
to
the
term
Chikin,
the
biting
or
eating
of
the
Sun,
seizing
it
in
the
mouth.
The
pictures
(from
Gates)
show
east,
north,
west,
and
south;
respectively
(the
lower
two
glyphs)
'Lord'
(Ahau)
and
'grasp'
(Manik).
Manik
was
the
7th
day
sign
of
the
20
and
Ahau
the
last
... |
|
32 |
no
glyph |
|
|
Gb7-30
(440) |
Ga1-1 |
Ga1-2
(475) |
η
Arietis
(31.9) |
Hyadum
II
(δ¹
Tauri)
(64.2) |
AIN,
θ¹
Tauri,
θ²
Tauri
(65.7) |
no
star
listed
(66) |
Asellus
Tertius,
κ
VIRGINIS,
14
Bootis
(214.8) |
In Gb7-30 -
significantly
at nakshatra
κ
Virginis
- we can see
a pair of
arms but
only a
single leg.
|
|
vae |
haati |
Hati
Hati 1. To break (v.t., v.i.); figuratively: he hati te pou oka, to die, of a hopu manu in the exercise of his office (en route from Motu Nui to Orongo). 2. Closing word of certain songs. Vanaga.
Hahati. 1. To break (see hati). 2. Roughly treated, broken (from physical exertion: ku hahati á te hakari) 3. To take to the sea: he hahati te vaka. Vanaga.
Ha(ha)ti. To strike, to break, to peel off bark; slip, cutting, breaking, flow, wave (aati, ati, hahati); tai hati, breakers, surf; tumu hatihati, weak in the legs; hakahati, to persuade; hatipu, slate. P Pau.: fati, to break. Mgv.: ati, hati, to break, to smash. Mq.: fati, hati, id. Ta.: fati, to rupture, to break, to conquer. Churchill. |
Atiga Angle, corner. Mgv.: hatiga, the corner of a house; hatiga, hatihatiga, the joints or articulation of a limb. Mq.: fatina, hatika, joint, articulation, link. Ta.: fatiraa, articulation. Churchill. |
HAKI, v. Haw., also ha'i and ha'e, primary meaning to break open, separate, as the lips about to speak, to break, as a bone or other brittle thing, to break off, to stop, tear, rend, to speak, tell, bark as a dog; hahai, to break away, follow, pursue, chase; hai, a broken place, a joint; hakina, a portion, part; ha'ina, saying; hae, something torn, as a piece of kapa or cloth, a flog, ensign.Sam., fati, to break, break off; fa'i, to break off, pluck off, as a leaf, wrench off; fai, to say, speak, abuse, deride; sae, to tear off, rend; ma-sae, torn. Tah., fati, to break, break up, broken; fai, confess, reveal, deceive; faifai, to gather or pick fruit; haea, torn, rent; s. deceit, duplicity; hae-hae, tear anything, break an agreement; hahae, id. Tong., fati, break, rend. Marqu., fati, fe-fati, to break, tear, rend; fai, to tell, confess; fefai, to dispute.
The same double meaning of 'to break' and 'to say' is found in the New Zealand and other Polynesian dialects.
Malg., hai, haïk, voice, address, call.
Lat., seco, cut off, cleave, divide; securis, hatchet; segmentum, cutting, division, fragment; seculum (sc. temporis), sector, follow eagerly, chase, pursue; sequor, follow; sica, a dagger; sicilis, id., a knife; saga, sagus, a fortune-teller.
Greek, άγνυμι, break, snap, shiver, from Ѓαγ (Liddell and Scott); άγν, breakage, fragment; έκας, adv, far off, far away. Liddell and Scott consider έκας akin to έκαςτος, each, every, 'in the sense of apart, by itself', and they refer to the analysis of Curtius ... comparing Sanskrit kas, kâ, kat (quis, qua, quid), who of two, of many, &c. Doubtless έκας and έκαςτος are akin 'in the sense of apart, by itself', but that sense arises from the previous sense of separating, cutting off, breaking off, and thus more naturally connects itself with the Latin sec-o, sac-er, and that family of words and ideas, than with such a forced compound as είς and κας.
Sanskr., sach, to follow. Zend, hach, id. (Vid. Haug, 'Essay on Parsis'.) I am well aware that most, perhaps all, prominent philologists of the present time - 'whose shoe-strings I am not worthy to unlace' - refer the Latin sequor, secus, even sacer, and the Greek έπω, έπομαι, to this Sanskrit sach. Benfey even refers the Greek έκας to this sach, as explanatory of its origin and meaning.
But, under correction, and even without the Polynesian congeners, I should hold that sach, 'to follow', in order to be a relative to sacer, doubtless originally meaning 'set apart', then 'devoted, holy', and of έκας, 'far off', doubtless originally meaning something 'separated', 'cut off from, apart from', must also originally have had a meaning of 'to be separated from, apart from', and then derivatively 'to come after, to follow'.
The sense of 'to follow' implies the sense of 'to be apart from, to come after', something preceding. The links of this connection in sense are lost in Sanskrit, but still survive in the Polynesian haki, fati, and its contracted form hai, fai, hahai, as shown above. I am therefore inclined to rank the Latin sequor as a derivative of seco, 'to cut off, take off'.
Welsh, haciaw, to hack; hag, a gash, cut; segur, apart, separate; segru, to put apart; hoc, a bill-hook; hicel, id.
A.-Sax., saga, a saw; seax, knife; haccan, to cut, hack; sægan, to saw; saga, speech, story; secan, to seek.
Anc. Germ., seh, sech, a ploughshare. Perhaps the Goth. hakul, A.-Sax. hacele, a cloak, ultimately refer themselves to the Polynes. hae, a piece of cloth, a flag. Anc. Slav., sieshti (siekā), to cut; siekyra, hatchet.
Judge Andrews in his Hawaiian-English Dictionary observes the connection in Hawaiian ideas between 'speaking, declaring', and 'breaking'. The primary idea, which probably underlies both, is found in the Hawaiian 'to open, to separate, as the lips in speaking or about to speak'; and it will be observed that the same development in two directions shows itself in all the Polynesian diaclects, as well as in several of the West Aryan dialects ... (Fornander)
|
... Sorrowing, then, the two women placed Osiris's coffer on a boat, and when the goddess Isis was alone with it at sea, she opened the chest and, laying her face on the face of her brother, kissed him and wept. The myth goes on to tell of the blessed boat's arrival in the marshes of the Delta, and of how Set, one night hunting the boar by the light of the full moon, discovered the sarcophagus and tore the body into fourteen pieces, which he scattered abroad; so that, once again, the goddess had a difficult task before her. She was assisted, this time, however, by her little son Horus, who had the head of a hawk, by the son of her sister Nephtys, little Anubis, who had the head of a jackal, and by Nephtys herself, the sister-bride of their wicked brother Set. Anubis, the elder of the two boys, had been conceived one very dark night, we are told, when Osiris mistook Nephtys for Isis; so that by some it is argued that the malice of Set must have been inspired not by the public virtue and good name of the noble culture hero, but by this domestic inadventure. The younger, but true son, Horus, on the other hand, had been more fortunately conceived - according to some, when Isis lay upon her dead brother in the boat, or, according to others, as she fluttered about the palace pillar in the form of a bird.
The four bereaved and searching divinities, the two mothers and their two sons, were joined by a fifth, the moon-god Thoth (who appears sometimes in the form of an ibis-headed scribe, at other times in the form of a baboon), and together they found all of Osiris save his genital member, which had been swallowed by a fish. They tightly swathed the broken body in linen bandages, and when they performed over it the rites that thereafter were to be continued in Egypt in the ceremonial burial of kings, Isis fanned the corpse with her wings and Osiris revived, to become the ruler of the dead. He now sits majestically in the underworld, in the Hall of the Two Truths, assisted by forty-two assessors, one from each of the principal districts of Egypt; and there he judges the souls of the dead. These confess before him, and when their hearts have been weighed in a balance against a feather, receive, according to their lives, the reward of virtue and the punishment of sin.
|