Starf*Cker 1 “Mythology, Like the Severed Head of Orpheus, Goes On

Starfcker “Mythology, like the severed head of Orpheus, goes on singing even in death and from afar.”1 In the pages to follow we will endeavor to shed some light on the celebrated love affair between Mars and Venus. Far from being an old wives’ tale lampooning the differences between the respective sexes, the “marriage” of the two planets signaled nothing less than Creation itself. Why should anyone care about ancient traditions recounting the sexual escapades between Venus and Mars? Ancient myth represents, as it were, a narrative or mnemonic “fossil” reflecting the intellectual history of mankind. For untold millennia the narration and memorization of such stories remained the primary means of transmitting important information about the history of the world and the most treasured beliefs of early man. If we are to gain a better understanding of the origins of religion, philosophy, and natural science, it stands to reason that we would do well to study the content and message of ancient myth wherein such matters form an overriding concern. Especially significant from the standpoint of modern science is the information encoded in ancient myth regarding the recent history of the solar system. Indeed, it is our contention that the eyewitness testimony of ancient man—as recorded in sacred traditions and rock art the world over—offers a surprisingly detailed and trustworthy guide for reconstructing that history. Starf*cker is an exercise in mythological exegesis and, as such, builds upon and extends our previous findings. The first volume in this series of monographs investigating the fascinating and multifaceted mythology surrounding the various planets—Martian Metamorphoses—offered an overview of Mars’ role in ancient myth and religion. There it was documented that the red planet was typically represented as a raging war-god and as the greatest of heroes—as the quintessential masculine power. Archetypal examples 1 C. Kerényi, “Prolegomena,” in C. Jung & C. Kerényi, Essays on a Science of Mythology (Princeton, 1969), p. 4. 1 Starfcker of the Martian warrior-hero include the Greek Heracles, Sumerian Nergal, Vedic Indra, and Celtic Cuchulainn, amongst countless others. The companion volume—The Many Faces of Venus—presented a comparative analysis of the sacred traditions surrounding Earth’s so-called twin. In contrast to Mars, Venus was conceptualized as the prototypical female power. In fact, Venus was often represented as the red planet’s paramour or consort. Familiar examples of the Venus- goddess include the Sumerian Inanna, Semitic Ishtar, and Greek Aphrodite but analogous figures will be found within virtually every culture. The general thesis underlying all three monographs can be summarized as follows: If the testimony of the ancient skywatchers is to be believed, the Earth was a participant in a series of recent interstellar cataclysms of a virtually unimaginable nature—cataclysms that were devastating in effect and traumatic in psychological impact. It can be shown, moreover, that such catastrophes had a formative influence on the primary institutions of early cultures and thus their impact continues to be felt to this very day. In what follows it is assumed that the reader has a general familiarity with the basic tenets of the so-called Saturn theory (see http://www.maverickscience.com/saturn.htm for a brief synopsis). Introduction “The earliest home of the gods that we can discern is the sky.”2 Much as the eyes can be said to offer a window to the soul so, too, does the study of ancient mythology offer a wealth of insight into the collective Psyche of early man. In fact, there is no other field of study that can provide a comparable amount of information regarding the innermost thoughts and religious sentiments of early man.3 2 E. Hornung, Conceptions of God in Ancient Egypt (Ithaca, 1982), p. 227. 3 Comparative linguistics and ancient art offer a good deal of insight as well, but not to the same level of detail or scope. 2 Starfcker For the better part of the past two centuries, the study of ancient mythology has served as a veritable Rorschach test by which one can best judge the interests and primary focus of the mythographer himself. Those scholars impressed by the central tenets of Freudian psychoanalysis reveal a marked tendency to view myth as a projection of forbidden sexual urges. Scholars otherwise disposed to emphasize the spiritual elements in human behavior and personality—foremost among whom are Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell— interpreted myth as an allegory of personal growth and individuation. Feminist authors, likewise, seek to expose the gender-biased aspects of ancient mythology while postulating a primordial matriarchy. It is our goal here to set aside the theoretical “filters” and hidden agendas, as it were, and approach ancient myth from the vantage point of the mythmakers themselves. For the fact is that the original mythmakers themselves left little doubt about the primary purpose of myth—to describe and celebrate Creation as wrought by the gods and witnessed firsthand. The gods in question, it turns out, are identifiable with the most prominent celestial bodies. And so it follows that a systematic analysis of mankind’s earliest and most treasured astronomical traditions forms an essential prerequisite to the proper understanding of ancient myth and religion. As the reputed Queen of the sciences, astronomy ranks amongst the oldest and most conscientiously practiced of scientific pursuits. Why this should be the case is not immediately obvious. Why would ancient cultures devote so much time and energy to tracking the stars when they had trouble just putting food on the table or defending themselves from marauding neighbors? The answer to this question was provided by the ancient skywatchers themselves: They were inspired to study the heavens because it was commonly believed that celestial events portended spectacular and potentially devastating cataclysms on Earth, including floods, thunderstorms, earthquakes, 3 Starfcker pestilence, and the downfall of kings and kingdoms.4 In fact, the dire consequences of stars gone amok were deemed to be so important and potentially life-threatening that cultures around the globe offered up human sacrifices in a desperate attempt to propitiate the seemingly capricious celestial powers. Such sacrifices reached a truly horrific and mind-boggling scale in Mesoamerica, where hundreds of thousands of innocents were slaughtered in obsessive obeisance to the planets. In ancient Mesopotamia similar beliefs prevailed. Assyrian kings, otherwise resolute in their arrogant display of absolute power, cowered like frightened children during eclipses and other celestial prodigies until a suitable human sacrifice could be offered as a substitute in their stead—all this in the fervent belief that such events portended the death of kings and the end of the world.5 The origin of such omens and sacrificial rites would be difficult to understand were they confined to one region alone, yet very similar beliefs and practices are to be found around the world, amongst so-called primitive cultures as well as the greatest of civilizations.6 How, then, are we to account for the origin of the belief-system maintaining that the behavior of the planets portended disastrous events here on Earth? There would appear to be but one logical explanation for this apparently universal and surprisingly consistent set of beliefs: The planets were directly responsible for cataclysmic disasters here on Earth, the effects of which were felt by ancient cultures everywhere. A systematic analysis of ancient astronomical lore will confirm this statement beyond any reasonable doubt. An obsession with the planets and their comings and goings is apparent already in the earliest civilizations, suggesting that regular and anxiety-laden skywatching long predated the origin of civilization itself. Thus it is that the earliest cities in 4 See the valuable discussion in Lester Ness, Astrology and Judaism in Late Antiquity (1990), a dissertation for Miami University available online at: www.smoe.org/arcana/diss.html. See also D. Brown, Mesopotamian Planetary Astronomy-Astrology (Groningen, 2000), pp. 108-113. 5 J. Bottéro, Mesopotamia (Chicago, 1992), pp. 138-155. 6 E. Cochrane, The Many Faces of Venus (Ames, 2001), pp. 15-23. 4 Starfcker Mesopotamia—such as Uruk—betray a preoccupation with the observation and veneration of the planet Venus, known there as Inanna (see chapter two). Native cultures on all inhabited continents provide abundant testimony with regards to their profound interest in celestial phenomena in general and in planetary behavior in particular. A brief sampling of such testimony must suffice for the purposes of this introduction, as the body of the present volume will bolster this claim in copious detail. That the gods resided in the heavens was common knowledge to the ancient cultures of the world. As a direct consequence of this belief, a culture’s corpus of star lore was deemed sacred and all-important—so important, in fact, that it was typically entrusted only to the best and brightest of pupils and repeatedly instilled every generation. The educational practices of the Australian Aborigines are representative in this regard: “Although the knowledge of the heavenly bodies possessed by the natives may not entitle it to be dignified by the name of astronomical science, it greatly exceeds that of most white people. Of such importance is a knowledge of the stars to the aborigines in their night journeys, and of their positions denoting the particular seasons of the year, that astronomy is considered one of their principal branches of education. Among the tribes between the rivers Leigh and Glenelg, it is taught by men selected for their intelligence and information.”7 Virtually every anthropologist who has spent time with the Aborigines has called attention to the celestial motifs in their art, myths, and religious rites. Curr, for example, offered the following observation: 7 Quoted in P.

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