Return of the Storm God - Appendix II: The Great Reset
Are we being prepared for another Great Reset - a new Flood scenario - and the Bible 2.0?
Preface – The Opiate Cycle: How Archetypes Were Captured and Recycled
For thousands of years, elites have recycled the same archetypes - flood, covenant, salvation, apocalypse - each time as tools of control. From Bible 1.0 under Rome to the myth of progress under modernity, every overwrite has promised renewal but delivered obedience. Today, with UFO hearings, climate resets, and digital IDs, we may be witnessing the preparation for Bible 2.0: the same archetypes, dressed in technological clothes.
Introduction
Across human history, myths and archetypes have provided orientation. The rising and falling of Orion, for example, the inundation of the Nile, the burial and rebirth of seed - these cycles were the first scriptures. They taught survival, gave meaning to suffering, and grounded early culture in nature itself.
Yet again and again, elites have overwritten these archetypes. They have converted nature’s cycles into doctrines of obedience, turning stories of renewal into instruments of control. From covenant to Catholicism, from the myth of progress to the emerging techno-religion of aliens and disclosure, the same archetypes are recycled in new disguises. Each time, the function remains constant: to numb, addict, and control.
This is what I call the Opiate Cycle.
Whilst there is much evidence for this thesis, it remains potential only. What I propose is the possibility of another reset: a renewed attempt by elites to reprogramme the collective psyche with what may amount to a new version of scripture - a Bible 2.0. Resets, redactions, and agendas of elites to control the masses abound throughout history. Real knowledge concealed, public knowledge replaced with fiction. Scientific progress arrested, wars, conflicts, and persecutions exploited to enforce the New Order. They did it before; who is to say they will not do so again?
The Cycle in Seven Movements
1. Nature and the Archetypes
The beginning is always natural. Sky, river, agriculture, body: these produced archetypes of exile and return, death and rebirth, flood and renewal. These were not false stories but accurate reflections of environment and cosmos. Myth was memory of the real.
Local memory of real catastrophes - such as the Younger Dryas with its global impact and climate change, perhaps even triggered by comet fragments as proposed by Allan and Delair and more recently by Graham Hancock - may have shaped some myths. But this remains circumstantial, and it stands against the greater weight of evidence: the Orion thesis and the Nature First thesis traced from the Danube onwards. The primacy of evidence lies in humanity’s direct observation of nature as it was experienced in situ.
The present, for those early cultures, was always dominant. It was encoded into the history and remnants of Drift Culture: scientific observations of sky and earth, recorded as archetypes, ratios, mathematical calculations of stellar cycles, gods understood as stars, and nature expressed through totems. These were the categories through which our ancestors made sense of what they saw - not the later frameworks imposed by theorists who sought to reframe myth as fantasy or imported revelation.
2. The First Overwrite – Covenant and Chosen People
Hebrew scripture nationalised the archetypes. Flood became Noah, exile became Egypt, covenant became law. Suffering was reframed as punishment for disobedience; restoration as reward for obedience. This was the first overwrite - the translation of nature’s cycles into doctrines of obedience.
What had been symbolic - of nature, axis, archetype, and psyche - was recast as history: a lineage of patriarchs and the story of a chosen few.
3. The Second Overwrite – Catholic Universalism
Rome universalised what Israel had nationalised. They built on what the Greeks had begun - a fusion of older Egyptian myth into historicised belief, adjusted at Alexandria to include yet conceal the emergent Pythagorean mathematics and ratios that later appeared as isopsephy and gematria. Atum was historicised as Imhotep; Imhotep divinised again as Asclepius. Osiris, Horus, and Atumist forms became Christ; Isis became Mary.
The archetypes were declared universal - but only mediated through the Church. Flood became baptism and apocalypse. Salvation required sacraments. Dissent was heresy. The messiah was no longer a cyclical archetype but a singular figure, always coming to save from a future catastrophe. Obedience was the key: the end-times punishment, like God’s Flood, could be averted. Through faith alone, salvation would come.
4. The Third Overwrite – The Myth of Progress
The Enlightenment promised liberation, but recycled the same structure. Suffering was justified as the price of a better future. Scientists became the new priesthood; experts the mediators of truth. Progress became covenant. Revolutions enacted Year Zero, sweeping away the old in ‘floods’ of history.
The opiates of the people have always been enforced, never organic. Religion, political revolutions, resets, New Orders, purges of the past and the establishment of new axes - the pattern repeats. From the Enlightenment to the French, Russian, and Chinese Revolutions, elites have used reset and purge to consolidate power and to prepare the ground for future elites to inherit.
Today, power is concentrated in the hands of a few corporate and financial blocs. The axis has become Davos, whose leaders openly announce the ‘Great Reset’ as official policy.
5. The Fourth Overwrite - Bible 2.0 Emerging
With faith in progress faltering, are elites testing a new opiate? UFOs, aliens, Atlantis - do these repackage the same myths? Is flood being recast as Younger Dryas catastrophe; covenant as alien engineering; apocalypse as disclosure? Are governments rehearsing controlled revelation? Could the next universal religion be a kind of Techno-Catholicism, with aliens as gods and disclosure as revelation?
Since the early 1990s, through the Covid era and now post Covid, have we been witnessing a long experiment - trial and error to see what works most effectively as the basis for a new order’s new religion? Are the masses more susceptible to hypnosis by aliens, by threats of catastrophe, or by both? How might a new Bible maximise elite gain, as Bible 1.0 once did? Are we living through the alpha-testing of themes to find the most potent future programme for mass conditioning - a modernised scripture updated for the digital age?
6. The Opiate Mechanism
In each overwrite, the mechanism is the same:
· Painkiller - suffering is explained and numbed.
· Addiction - dependence is created; life without the myth feels impossible.
· Control - elites mediate salvation, enforcing obedience.
From indulgences to revolutions, from ‘trust the science’ to the ‘Great Reset,’ the drug is constant.
Anyone who thinks outside the script is dismissed as insane, ‘bonkers,’ uneducated, or idiotic. Yet alternative thought is no more ‘bonkers’ than what consensus declares to be sane: a Great Flood drowning the whole world, a man who resurrected the dead, Pythagoras inventing ratio and mathematics as late as the mid–first millennium BCE (despite all evidence to the contrary), or the god of inundation officially reduced to a mere ‘canal inspector.’ To deny all connection between the gods of the ancient world and call it coincidence - this is as absurd as any so-called fringe theory from Hancock, myself, or others.
The target is mass perception. Consensus is the religion; the priesthoods simply wear different regalia. Mass formation, not evidence, is what drives each reset. And history shows the cautionary pattern: priests and academics who enforce the consensus are often the very ones swept aside in the next purge.
Mass formation is hypnosis, not psychosis.
7. The Core Fragility – The Bug’s Life Lesson
Despite appearances, elites are fragile. Like grasshoppers in A Bug’s Life, they survive only because the ants obey. Like Morlocks in Wells’ Time Machine, they endure only by preying on softened Eloi. The true power always rests with the masses. When obedience cracks, regimes collapse suddenly. This is the hidden weakness of every overwrite.
That is why preparation is everything. For elites it is a long game - a Great Work to preserve status and power against a vastly larger population. Illusions must be maintained. Yet every web of lies becomes more tangled, more fragile, and easier to pierce with each iteration. So long as we keep the mental means to examine the evidence - before hypnosis narrows perception and distorts the lens - the deceptions remain defeatable.
Every opiate wears thin. Painkillers lose effect, addictions break, obedience falters. The cycle is never permanent. That is the elites’ fragility, and our opening.
The Flood and the Reset Archetype
We must use real evidence to see beyond the deceptive veil. And that means returning to the main tool of control: religion. Many underestimate how deeply religion has shaped our psyche, politics, academia, and consensus narratives. Whether one identifies as religious or not, all of us are affected by its historical imposition as a system of mass control.
To dismiss it as irrelevant is a mistake. Just because one does not believe in something does not erase its effects. Religion exists, and its influence persists. To bury one’s head in the sand is to remain vulnerable. If we fail to recognise the triggers and programming for what they are - even when we think ourselves immune - we risk falling under hypnosis all the more easily.
At the heart of every overwrite lies the reset archetype. It is the most powerful opiate of all. Again and again, catastrophe is invoked as the doorway to renewal, and each time the cycle is turned into a tool of control.
The Sumerian king lists divide rulers into those before and after the flood. Genesis sets patriarchs before and after Noah. Plato tells of Atlantis destroyed so that the world may be renewed. Catholicism offers apocalypse and Last Judgement, echoed in centuries of sectarian ruptures where Protestants and Catholics imposed resets on one another - order from chaos, divide and conquer, elites ensuring control.
The same pattern emerges in secular guise. Revolutions proclaimed Year Zero and promised the creation of a ‘new man.’ Communism enforced Cultural Revolution, purges, and the reset of society. Today Davos invokes the phrase directly: the ‘Great Reset.’
The structure is always the same: catastrophe, destruction, renewal under new covenant. What began as the natural rhythm of flood and renewal was turned into political myth - a narcotic persuading people to forget their past, accept erasure of memory, and obey new rulers.
The Opiate as Addiction and Control
Marx’s insight remains exact: religion - and each of its successors - is the opiate of the people. Like a drug, it soothes suffering, creates dependence, and enforces obedience.
In covenant, the addiction was to ‘chosenness’, the obedience to priesthood. In Catholicism, the addiction was to sacraments, the obedience to Church. In the myth of progress, the addiction was to future perfection, the obedience to experts. Each overwrote nature with myth, myth with scripture, scripture with ideology, ideology with technocracy. Each promised salvation while securing control.
And so the cycle points forward. Bible 2.0 will offer addiction to disclosure and obedience to technocrats. Same again. ‘Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.’
The Core Fragility Exposed
Yet all share the same weakness. Elites cannot survive without the masses. Priests need believers. Churches need tithes. Scientists need trust. Technocrats need compliance.
The ants already hold everything: the skills, the numbers, the labour. The grasshoppers have only narrative. History shows what happens when obedience breaks - in France, in Russia, in Romania. Elites collapse overnight.
This is the bug’s life lesson: the opiate only works while people believe it. Once the illusion cracks, the entire structure falls.
The cycle is repeating. The flood–reset archetype is being invoked again, openly, under the banner of the ‘Great Reset.’ Alien and Atlantis myths are promoted as serious discourse. Disclosure hearings in government halls are presented as revelation. The next opiate is already being prepared.
If left unrecognised, it may capture another generation. Religion reborn as technocracy, covenant recast as disclosure, ark refashioned as global governance. Humanity may again feed the grasshoppers, believing it inevitable.
The Alternative
The only way out of the cycle is to return to the true archetypes. The sun returns each morning. The river floods and recedes. The seed dies and rises. The body breathes, bleeds, loves, and dies. These are not myths of obedience but memories of reality. They require no priest, no technocrat, no alien mediator. They are direct, observable, universal.
Real science, pursued with open minds and grounded in respect for nature, can support this return. As Plato and the Egyptians taught, something is true only if it accords with nature. The scientific process is valuable only when it reveals what is real, not when it is twisted to demonstrate the unreal as truth. When it becomes the latter, it is weaponised as another opiate - a tool of control and hypnosis.
By restoring archetypes to their natural context, the cycle can be broken. Religion, Catholicism, progress, Bible 2.0 - all are overwrites. The truth was always there before them, and remains visible still: in sky and river, in seed and star. It lives in the common, everyday experience of all humankind, not in fictional or theoretical pseudorealities imposed as mental prisons - viewed through glasses too dark to see the world as it is, as it was, and as it continues to be.
The Opiate Cycle explains why myths endure, why elites recycle them, and why people submit. But it also reveals the fragility of the cycle and the possibility of liberation.
Nature provides archetypes.
Elites overwrite them.
The overwrites serve as opiates.
The cycle repeats.
The fragility remains.
We now stand at the threshold of another overwrite - Bible 2.0, disclosure as revelation, the Great Reset as apocalypse. To recognise the pattern is to break its spell. To remember nature as scripture is to end the addiction.
The ants need only stand up once. Yes, they may need to fight at first. But the integrity of truth - the defence of what is real, of sovereignty over our own bodies, choices, and futures, and of the inheritance owed to our descendants - is worth that fight. If that is not reason enough to resist the hypnosis, what is? Has there ever been a clearer, purer reason to resist the self-appointed feudal elites?
Nature and the Archetypes
Before scripture, priesthoods, or empire, the earliest humans had one book only – nature itself. Its pages were the sky, the rivers, the land, and the body. Cycles of light and dark, flood and drought, death and rebirth provided the first structures of meaning. From these rhythms arose what we now call archetypes – patterns of experience encoded in memory, ritual, and eventually myth. These were not superstitions, nor inventions of idle imagination. They were attempts to stabilise knowledge of the most consistent forces in life.
Archetypes from the Sky
The night sky was the first scripture. Wherever humans lived, the stars dominated the dark. No instruction was required to notice Orion rising in winter, the Pleiades clustering above Taurus, or Sirius flashing bright on the horizon. These constellations were fixed points in the shifting heavens.
· Orion – recognisably humanoid, weapon in hand, rising and falling with the seasons. It embodied the archetype of the hunter, the warrior, and later the storm-bringer.
· The Pleiades – a tight group, often read as sisters, watchers, or seeds scattered. They aligned with sowing calendars in many regions.
· Taurus – the archetypal beast faced by the hunter, the cosmic opponent for Orion.
· Jupiter – a roaming but deliberate light, always the observing witness, aloof yet present.
· Sirius – loyal as the hound, trailing behind, but crucial in timing: its heliacal rising was the herald of the Nile flood and the emblem of Isis.
· The Moon – waxing and waning, its rhythm tied to menstruation, fertility, and ritual cycles.
· The Sun – the axis of life itself: rising, dying, and reborn each day and each year, its winter disappearance feeding myths of the dead god and the return of light.
Each of these was not merely symbol but lived fact: the hunter’s rhythm, the farmer’s calendar, the woman’s cycle, the flood that restored or destroyed. Death and resurrection were not abstract doctrines but annual certainties.
Every other light in the sky, every faint star, was given its place – encoded in constellations, myths, and zodiacs. None should be dismissed. Yet in Return of the Storm God, the prime nexus above – Orion, Taurus, Sirius, Pleiades, Sun, Moon, and Jupiter – forms the most coherent symbolic grammar, the structure into which the rest harmonises.
Archetypes from the River
Water was life – it still is. In Egypt, the Nile’s annual inundation was the foundation of the entire civilisation. In Mesopotamia, the Tigris and Euphrates carved fertile floodplains. In the Danube basin, river valleys nurtured Neolithic settlements and gave rise to the earliest symbolic writing, such as the Vinča script.
The river cycle – flood, deposit, withdrawal – carried its own archetypal logic. Exile and return: the water takes the land away, then restores it enriched. The vessel: carved hollows, bowls, and later the ‘grail’ echoed riverbeds and pools, containers of life’s flow. The chosen place: high ground above flood-level became sacred, the safe height, the archetype of the ‘promised land.’
From these simple rhythms arose myths of Eden, Avalon, and other watered paradises. Their meaning was never just ‘enclosure,’ as later etymologies suggest, but the fertile ground of flowing water, the place where life renews.
Archetypes from Agriculture
Agriculture amplified the archetypal cycle. A seed buried in the earth appeared dead, only to rise again as living stalk. Harvest required the death of the plant, but its rebirth was assured the following year if seed was preserved. Life could only return when the seed was anointed with water – the gift of the goddess. The ancients recognised, with a consistency stretching back far beyond written record, that only when the dry husk received the blessings of fluid could life emerge. Human birth, too, depended on this law: fluid and breath equal life, and life is the gift of the mother, not the father.
From this recognition arose the archetype of the dying and rising god. Osiris, Tammuz, Dionysus, and later Jesus are not inventions, but symbolic mirrors of agricultural process. Sacrifice, mourning, and resurrection rites across Sumer, Egypt, and Greece preserve this agricultural foundation.
Archetypes from the Body
The body itself provided archetypes, inseparable from experience. Breath was life-force – the invisible companion known as Hu in Egypt and prāṇa in India. Blood was essence, tied to water and sacrifice. The menstrual cycle embodied the rhythm of fertility, tied directly to the moon. Orgasm and emission became the generative act of creation, often mythologised as seed or divine speech. The amniotic sac, breaking to release the child, was the pre-birth flood, mirrored in countless myths of emergence.
The body was also mathematics. Five points – head, arms, and legs – formed the primal star. Five fingers doubled as ten gave a natural metric. The clenched fist bore spirals and segments in Fibonacci ratios, ready to be read as geometry. These ratios mirrored Orion in the sky, with his limbs and body marked in proportions of one, two, three, and four: a pyramid in waiting, long before later observers encoded it in myth and mathematics.
Evidence Across Early Cultures
· Vinča culture (c. 5500–4500 BCE): undeciphered script on pottery and figurines found along Danube tributaries. Patterns suggest symbolic communication tied to settlement and water management.
· Sumer (c. 3000 BCE): Inanna’s Descent reflects agricultural cycles – fertility withdrawn, death, and return. Seasonal labour encoded in myth.
· Egypt (c. 2500 BCE onwards): Osiris dismembered and reassembled mirrors seed and flood; the Nile’s inundation tied to the tears of Isis and the heliacal rising of Sirius.
· Minoan Crete (c. 2000 BCE): bull imagery and double axe (labrys) encode storm, fertilisation, and cyclical renewal.
· Indus Valley (c. 2600–1900 BCE): seals and ritual bathing tanks point to fertility, purity, and water cycles as sacred archetypes.
· Chaco Canyon, North America (c. 900–1150 CE): great houses and kivas align with solstices and lunar standstills. They served as ceremonial and calendrical axes linking agriculture, season, and sky, and as inner sanctuaries for shamanic practice - womb-like spaces where initiates entered symbolic descent and rebirth.
In every case, archetypes emerge directly from lived experience: water, seed, flood, sun, moon, stars. They are not abstract inventions, nor evidence of a vanished ‘lost civilisation,’ but the consistent grammar of human observation.
From Archetype to Myth
The archetypes provided the scaffolding; myth gave them names and faces. Orion became Osiris, then Hercules, then the Storm God. The flood became Noah’s Ark or Deucalion’s survival, or the body of Orion himself – the ark of souls, the bark ferrying the dead across the river to the stars. The seed became Tammuz, Dionysus, or Christ. Sun and season motifs cross-fertilised these myths, layering new associations upon the same natural patterns.
At root, the structure was always the same: nature’s cycles reframed as human story. Death and rebirth, flood and renewal, exile and return – all were archetypes of sky, river, seed, and body. The earliest myths were not errors or fantasies, but accurate encodings of reliable patterns. Only later would priesthoods and empires overwrite these archetypes into exclusive doctrines of covenant, salvation, and apocalypse.
Before those overwrites, myth was memory: an attempt to stabilise knowledge of the cycles that governed survival. Myths were also extended into speculation about life beyond the body. If ‘as above, so below’ held true, then what was beyond the visible sky must also mirror the fate of the soul. These were not abstract inventions but reasoned extensions of observed natural law.
Nature was the first and truest scripture. The archetypes it yielded remain the foundation of all that followed. For millennia, myth was how humankind encoded science: astronomy, ratios, calendars, and geometry were all preserved in story. What later came to be mistaken as ‘divine revelation’ was originally nothing more – and nothing less – than the careful observation of the world, encoded in memory to be carried forward.
The First Overwrite: Covenant and Chosen People
When the archetypes of nature were first carried into story, they were open, shared, and fluid. The rising and falling of Orion, the flooding of the river, the seed buried and reborn - these were truths visible to all. But with the emergence of priesthoods and written law, these archetypes were overwritten into doctrines of exclusive identity. The most powerful of these overwrites was the claim that a single people, bound by covenant to a single god, held sole rights to divine truth. This is the origin of the Hebrew Bible.
After thousands of years of shared archetypal mythology, the function of the feminine was removed or degraded, Isis veiled. Nature was denatured and replaced with a husk - entirely masculine in authority - which upheld the power of a masculine elite.
Covenant Explained (berit)
The Hebrew word berit is conventionally translated as ‘covenant.’ But the modern sense of a mutual contract is misleading. In its biblical use, berit is never a negotiated agreement between equals. It is always a command backed by threat: obey and live, disobey and be cursed.
I propose this explanation as closer to the root meaning of berit as it appears in the Hebrew. I do not accept Hebrew as an original language. The evidence strongly suggests that Hebrew itself is derived from Egyptian and Babylonian forms, with letters encoding earlier meanings that, read as compounds, tell their own story when traced back through those cultures. Etymologists and theologians are free to disagree.
· Etymological frame:
o Be- = to be, to come forth, to exist from.
o Rit / ri = ring, rite, rule, enclosure, crown.
Together: berit = to come forth and be bound within a ruling enclosure.· Symbolic meaning:
o Originally this reflected natural containment - to be born from a sac, to belong within a vessel or field, to be bound to origin.
o In Hebrew scripture, it was inverted: no longer alignment with nature, but submission to a male god and his law.
· Biblical use:
o The ‘covenant’ of Noah, Abraham, and Moses is not free assent. It is ultimatum: bear the yoke or be destroyed.
o Circumcision as ‘sign of the covenant’ brands the male body, excluding women entirely.
· Historical function:
o Berit nationalised the universal archetype of cyclical bond and made it exclusive: one male-only god, one male-only ruled people, one truth.
o It sacralised obedience to priesthoods and rulers, providing elites a divine licence to enforce their power.
In its original sense, a berit was not a contract of obedience but a bond of truth. To the Egyptian mind, berit meant ‘be right’ - to live in accord with Maʿat, the natural order of things. Truth was not abstract. It was that which is - Isis herself, the living essence of reality. To ‘know’ truth was to embody it: to plant, reap, breathe, and rule in balance with nature. A king was not a tyrant but a servant of the goddess, charged with maintaining harmony between land, people, and cosmos. To stray from this order was to invite famine, collapse, and natural penalty.
The eternal question - ‘what is truth?’ - is the epistemological hinge of every age. The way of nature, the truth of nature, is the life of nature. In both Babylon and Egypt, all life, truth, and order arose through the goddess, with the male god as channel. Only later, in the Hebrew overwrite, did the ‘contract with nature and the goddess’ harden into berit - a ‘covenant.’ No longer ‘be right in truth,’ it became ‘be ruled in law.’ The yoke shifted from axis of balance to bond of obedience: bear it, or else.
Thus berit was imposed by elites to create order in the masses. The people were hypnotised by the new myth, cut off from the nature it had once illustrated. Memory was overwritten: a Great Reset had occurred. With the construction and imposition of the Roman Bible, forgetting was compounded by force. Within a few generations, memory was erased and replaced by ‘official’ history. It is precisely what Orwell described in 1984 - the function of the Ministry of Truth: redact, impose, reset, control.
Sympathetic Note: It is easy to deride this as chauvinism, weakness, or stupidity. But people under duress cling to whatever gives suffering meaning. Covenant narratives offered just that. Hypnosis is not stupidity; trust in priesthoods is not weakness. It is a survival strategy in the face of exile, persecution, and fear.
The Hebrew scriptures reframed universal cycles as racial history. The covenant was not just spiritual - it was political. By binding identity to divine favour, obedience was sacralised. A people were told their survival depended not on observing the Nile, planting in season, or watching the stars, but on obedience to priestly law.
· Exodus 19:5: ‘Now therefore, if you will indeed obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession among all peoples.’
The conditional is unmistakable: obedience equals divine election, disobedience equals curse. The natural order was overwritten by a theological one, mediated and enforced by priests.
Sympathetic Note: We should not assume malign intent everywhere. Priesthoods emerged from genuine communal needs: record-keeping, adjudication, seasonal timing, famine management. The drift into control was gradual - and understandable - even as it hardened into hierarchy. But the evidence is clear: by the time of its Roman codification, the Church had become a deliberate tool of mass mind control. Memory was stripped from the many, preserved only for elites, and repurposed for their advantage. This was the minority predating the majority - a fragile dominance, always at risk of being overturned if the majority ever realised how they had been misled.
Borrowed Myths, New History
Comparative research (Massey, Acharya S, and others including myself) shows how Hebrew stories mirror older Egyptian and Mesopotamian myths:
· Moses in the bulrushes echoes the Sargon legend from Akkad and parallels Egyptian stories of Osiris.
· Noah’s flood reproduces Utnapishtim’s story in the Epic of Gilgamesh.
· The Law on Sinai mirrors Mesopotamian mountain-theophanies and the transfer of the Tablets of Destiny to the Babylonian lugal.
· Creation by Word (Genesis 1) echoes Egyptian Memphite theology, where Ptah creates by thought and speech. Atum becomes Adam, Atum’s feminine aspect becomes Eve, and his minor god-helpers - the ali neteru - become the Elohim, parallel to the heavenly Anunnaki.
The Hebrew innovation was never the stories themselves, but their exclusive appropriation. Egypt had Osiris and Isis for all; Mesopotamia had Inanna for all. Israel alone claimed Yahweh for one tribal people. Christianity then endorsed this tribal myth because it had been engineered as a political tool: a way to pacify the Judahite rebels who refused to submit to Rome. By ‘fulfilling their prophecies,’ the Romans negated the covenant, destroyed the temple, dispersed the Judahites, and took the land.
In doing so, Judaism was refashioned into a core pillar of a new imperial theology - designed to consolidate empire under a single religious system. What once required massive armies, logistics, and conquest could now be managed by a clerical elite armed with books and a foreign tongue: Latin.
The rise of Christianity coincided with the decline of Rome’s physical might. Rome had overreached. The empire of conquest, once driven by hunger for land and wealth, had grown decadent, reliant on auxiliaries drawn from its conquered peoples. As material power waned, Rome’s genius turned to consolidation.
That genius was the invention of a universal religion. By force, Rome imposed a system that erased indigenous memory in a cultural Great Reset. Within a few generations, the conquered no longer recalled their age of freedom; they accepted their place as subjects ‘owned by God,’ with Rome’s Church as God’s Holy See. Tribute that once demanded plunder was now freely offered as divine observance.
Thus the so-called Dark Ages were not dark for lack of life, but because the light of memory was extinguished. What remains to us is scarce - and mostly the records of Roman propagandists, the Winston Smiths of their time.
It took centuries to complete the project - from the seeds sown in Ptolemaic Alexandria to the codified Bible under Justinian. Rome’s strength lay not only in legions and walls, but in its intellectual nous. It studied its quarry and understood their psyche: if a pattern worked once, it could be made to work again. The martial-administrative structure was systematically transfigured into the Church. Generals became bishops, officers became overseers, local managers became the new middle-management of empire - tasked with enforcing the hypnotic creed as if it were history.
And so the saying holds: the rest is history. Or rather, his-story - their story, the official one. The version written by the winners, by those who secured their status and wealth through the hanging and torture of heroes, and the oppression of common people whose memory they erased.
Exile as Proof of Election
And so the tribal history of Judea became an empire-wide archetype upon which Christianity was installed - itself a consolidation of earlier Babylonian and Egyptian natural science reframed as myth. The gods became angels; the Creator gods collapsed into a single entity - God, Yahweh, Jehovah. The forces, ratios, and forms of nature were transformed into patriarchs, and their archetypal but symbolic ‘stories’ were taught as literal lives lived in an ancient past. A genetic heritage was constructed, reaching back to ‘the beginning,’ claimed for one people alone.
The archetype of exile-and-return was transformed into the ultimate proof of ‘chosenness’. If Israel was conquered, enslaved, or dispersed, this was not evidence against the covenant but confirmation of it. Disobedience brought punishment; obedience promised restoration. History itself was read entirely through this covenantal lens.
Judaism thus continued undeterred, bound both to its history and its pseudo-history. Each generation became a journey toward an inevitable destiny: the chosen would return to the promised land, and God would fulfil his promises. But this ‘return’ was not an evolution into a new age - it was a reset, a reboot to an imagined golden past.
This logic allowed a persecuted people to interpret suffering as destiny, and it proved extraordinarily durable - and dangerous. Locked in an age of strife and unable to evolve, the covenantal framework froze the future into an ancient political crisis. When Rome reinforced this node as the pivot of sacred history, the effect became global. Time itself was fixed: to return to that moment was holy; to move beyond it was disobedience.
What in Egypt had once been exemplified as the Word - the Hu (breath of life) and Sia (perception, wisdom, alignment with Nature) - became, in the Hebrew overwrite, a tale of exploitation. The Book of Hosea makes the shift explicit. God declares Israel to be his wife, but she is cast as unfaithful, a whore. Hosea is commanded to marry an adulterous woman as a living symbol of Israel’s ‘unfaithfulness.’ Nature, once mother and bride, life-bearing goddess, is reduced to degraded property.
The logic is brutally clear: God becomes the racketeer. Nature is his possession, to be punished, discarded, or handed over at will. Humanity is given licence: ‘She is mine, but I give her to you - use her as you will, my gift to you alone.’ The covenant itself is reduced to a protection racket: obey and prosper, disobey and be stripped of everything.
This is not the Egyptian balance of Maʿat, with Hu and Sia guiding humanity into rightness with nature. It is its inversion: an authoritarian overwrite in which the goddess is profaned, and her humiliation becomes the very justification for divine wrath. By this sleight of hand, the sacred feminine - breath, wisdom, life itself - is turned into the fallen whore, and Israel, as collective, is punished in her place. Hosea exemplifies the full inversion: Nature ceases to be partner, mother, sustainer; she becomes scapegoat, and covenant becomes contract, enforced by threat.
The Function of the Overwrite
By overwriting natural archetypes into covenantal ones, several powerful control functions were achieved. First, identity was made exclusive: truth was no longer a shared reality of nature, but the possession of one people, with others branded outsiders. Second, interpretation was centralised: the law became the domain of scribes and Levites, the preserve of a priesthood. Third, the logic became persecution-proof: defeat or disaster no longer undermined belief but reinforced it as divine punishment. Finally, obedience was sacralised: what had once been social regulation was reframed as command from God himself.
This was the first great overwrite of myth. Nature was replaced by scripture, environment by covenant.
The same psychological pattern appears today. When institutions fail, people double down, because abandoning the framework feels like abandoning safety itself. That is why we must explain with precision - not mock - how the covenant turned archetype into obedience.
Precedents can be found in earlier cultures. In Mesopotamia, the law codes of Hammurabi show how divine sanction was invoked to enforce obedience. In Egypt, the Osiris cycle tied legitimacy of pharaohs to cosmic balance, Maʿat. But the Hebrew shift was distinctive. Unlike Egypt or Sumer, where gods were multiple and myths open, Israel closed the system: one god, one people, one truth. This exclusivity later gave Christianity and Islam their shape. The overwrite spread far beyond its origin.
The covenantal overwrite carried profound consequences. It introduced the idea of linear sacred history - creation, covenant, exile, restoration, apocalypse - in contrast to the cyclical myths of flood and rebirth. It reframed suffering as proof of chosenness, a logic that echoed centuries later when Jewish persecutions and even the Holocaust were interpreted through the same covenantal lens. And it provided the template for empire religions: Rome would later adopt the exclusivity of covenant, reframe it through Christ, and use it to control populations on a universal scale.
The covenantal overwrite was the first great step away from nature as scripture. Archetypes were transformed into exclusive history. Priesthoods secured obedience, and people were taught to see themselves not as participants in natural cycles but as instruments of a divine plan.
This was the beginning of the Opiate Cycle: archetypes reframed as doctrine, belief wielded as a narcotic to numb suffering and bind obedience. The Old Testament does not reveal a unique god. It reveals the first great overwrite of natural truth into national myth.
Sympathetic note: If you once believed this story, or still do, you are not a fool. You are human. The first step is not shame but recognition - seeing how the story worked, and why it was so compelling.
The Second Overwrite: Catholic Universalism (and the Flood as Reset)
If the covenantal overwrite narrowed natural archetypes into the identity of one chosen people, the Roman Church performed the opposite manoeuvre: it universalised them. What had once been the story of Israel was recast as the destiny of all humanity. The function, however, remained the same: obedience mediated through priesthood, sacralised by narrative. The Catholic synthesis was not a new revelation but a second overwrite of older archetypes, crafted to bind an empire.
At the centre of this universalising move lay one of the most enduring archetypes of all: the Flood, the myth of reset. From Sumer and Babylon to the Hebrew Bible, from Plato’s dialogues to modern utopian schemes, the Flood and its implied ‘new dawn’ has been used again and again as the mechanism for overwriting memory and enforcing obedience.
Sympathetic note: Many who embraced the Church did so for good reason: community, ritual, protection, literacy, food, and structure in chaotic times. To dismiss this as stupidity is to miss the point. It was hypnosis, not folly - the fulfilment of deep human needs that made the system viable.
Jesus as Osiris and Horus
The dying-and-rising god was not new. In Egypt, Osiris was dismembered and resurrected. Horus was the child of the widow, the falcon rising. In Greece, Dionysus died and returned. In Sumer, Tammuz descended to the underworld and rose again.
Christianity did not invent this archetype - it translated it into a new figure:
Osiris became Christ crucified and risen.
Isis became Mary, mother of God.
Horus became Jesus as child, depicted in iconography on Mary’s lap.
Comparative work by Gerald Massey, Acharya S, and others has shown in detail how the gospel story mirrors Egyptian myth in both structure and symbol. Return of the Storm God demonstrates that all of the fundamental biblical stories are originally and archetypally far older, traceable in their first forms to Sumer, Babylonia, and Egypt. What was unique in Catholicism was not the story itself, but the claim that it was literal, once-for-all, and that salvation depended on submission to a single universal church.
Mary as Isis, Recast
The feminine principle, central in Egypt, was retained but diminished. Isis was a goddess in her own right, sovereign over throne and magic. Mary became the vessel of incarnation - exalted, but only in relation to her son. This was a deliberate inversion: the goddess who had once ruled became mother, mourner, and intercessor. The archetype of the sacred feminine was overwritten into subordination.
The Church as Mediator
Rome’s genius was institutional. Where Israel had tied covenant to peoplehood, the Roman Church tied salvation to itself. The creed of Nicaea, the councils, the canon - these were not spiritual innovations but political consolidations. Constantine and later emperors saw that a divided empire could be unified through one creed.
Thus the overwrite functioned:
One book.
One god.
One church.
One emperor.
The mythic archetypes were universalised, but only through Rome’s mediation.
Sympathetic note: For the illiterate poor, the Church was school, hospital, and granary. That does not sanctify control - but it does explain why people consented. There is no need for those of us who know better to insult those who once found shelter under its roof. Denigrating the victim as ‘sheeple’ only repeats the logic of domination.
Destruction and Absorption of Local Cults
The Catholic overwrite required erasure. Local deities were recoded as saints or demons. Temples were converted into churches. Sacred groves were felled. Gnostic sects that preserved older balances were branded heretical and destroyed.
Council of Nicaea (325 CE): fixed the canon, declared dissent heresy.
Destruction of the Serapeum (391 CE): symbol of Egyptian wisdom violently eradicated.
Suppression of Gnostic gospels: texts emphasising inner knowledge and male–female balance excluded and destroyed.
This was not a spiritual flowering but an imperial purge.
Universal Salvation as Control
By declaring that salvation was available to all, Catholicism appeared inclusive. Yet this inclusivity was conditional: it was mediated entirely by the Church. Baptism, confession, Eucharist - all were sacraments under priestly control. To refuse them was to refuse salvation.
Obedience was thus embedded not only in life but in the promise of eternity. The opiate function deepened: not only was suffering sanctified, but resistance itself became synonymous with eternal damnation.
The Flood as Reset
Perhaps the most potent archetype embedded in this overwrite was the Flood.
Sumerian and Babylonian Lists
The Sumerian King List divides history into rulers ‘before the flood’ and ‘after the flood.’ Antediluvian kings reign for tens of thousands of years, encoding cosmic or stellar cycles. After the flood, reigns shorten, becoming recognisably human. This is not history but astronomy written as genealogy.
In the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Babylonian flood shows Utnapishtim saved in an ark. The mountain of landing shifts - Ararat, Nisir - but always functions as axis, the stable high place where renewal begins.
Hebrew Overwrite
Genesis borrows this structure wholesale. Patriarchs before Noah live for impossibly long spans - hundreds of years, echoing stellar time scales. After the flood, lifespans shorten. Cosmic order is rewritten as family history. The Ark is a scaled-down cosmos, carrying ‘two of every kind’ - the symbolic microcosm preserved through the cycle.
Thus the Flood becomes both catastrophe and renewal: the archetype of reset.
Plato’s Allegory Misread
Plato, in Timaeus and Critias, wrote of Atlantis destroyed by floods and fire. These were philosophical allegories, vehicles for teaching about hubris, decline, and cosmic cycles. The dialogues are mathematical and astronomical, not historical. Plato himself signals their allegorical function.
Yet later readers misread them as history. Modern ‘Atlantologists’ and pseudo-historians treat Atlantis as a lost continent, missing the point entirely. This is evemerism again: myth and mathematics mistaken for reportage.
Sympathetic note: I know that pull - I felt it myself. The pattern-hunt is intoxicating. But mistaking symbol for history only returns power to those who weaponise myth.
Catholic Deployment
The Church inherited the Flood as both baptismal archetype (rebirth through water) and apocalyptic warning (judgement, destruction, renewal). In each case, the function was control. The believer’s only safety lay in obedience - to the ark of the Church, to its sacraments, to its narrative.
The Reset Archetype through History
The danger of the reset archetype is that, once mythicised, it becomes a tool for enforced renewal.
In Catholicism, the reset became Judgement Day - the old order destroyed, the faithful remade.
In Communism, the reset became Year Zero - purges and Cultural Revolutions to manufacture a ‘new man.’
In modern technocracy, the World Economic Forum brands its project the ‘Great Reset.’ The language is no accident. It draws on the same archetype: erase the old, impose the new, present it as inevitable.
Every time, the ‘reset’ is presented as renewal. In practice, it is centralisation of power. The archetype of natural cycle becomes the pretext for political overwrite.
The Archetypes Reframed
Every natural archetype remained in the Catholic system, but each was rewritten to channel belief through Rome, and later through new ideological priesthoods:
Flood and Renewal → Baptism, apocalypse, ‘reset.’
Exile and Return → Penance and confession.
Dying and Rising God → Crucifixion and resurrection.
Goddess of Fertility → Mary, exalted but diminished.
Promised Land → Heaven, mediated by the Church.
Consequences
The Catholic overwrite produced an extraordinarily durable structure:
It sanctified empire: the pope crowned emperors; kings ruled by divine right.
It codified persecution: heretics and witches were not dissenters but enemies of God.
It justified expansion: missionary work doubled as conquest sanctified.
It embedded guilt: original sin taught that humanity was broken from birth, redeemable only through obedience.
And crucially, it perpetuated the reset myth, giving elites the narrative tool to erase and rewrite societies at will.
Sympathetic note: Many faithful were kind, ethical, and courageous - often in spite of the system. This argument is not against them. It is against the overwrite that exploited their goodness to power a machinery of control.
Conclusion
The Catholic overwrite was the second great step in the Opiate Cycle. Where Israel nationalised the archetypes, Rome globalised them. Where nature had once spoken directly, now priests and emperors spoke on its behalf. Myth was still present, but bound, controlled, and weaponised.
And embedded deep within it was the most dangerous archetype of all: the Flood as reset. From Sumerian king lists to Noah, from Plato’s allegories to Catholic apocalypse, from communist purges to Davos manifestos, the same cycle repeats. The myth of reset becomes the tool of control. Each time it promises renewal, but each time it means erasure of memory, destruction of dissent, and centralisation of power.
This was no longer nature as scripture. It was empire as religion. And unless the archetype is recognised for what it truly is - an astronomical metaphor, not a mandate for social engineering - the cycle of resets will continue, endlessly recycled by those who rule.
The next flood may not be water at all. It may come as an environmental crisis - or the mere threat of one may suffice. It may take the form of an engineered pandemic, or a natural outbreak repurposed to impose a reset, as Davos leaders themselves declared when they spoke of using Covid as the catalyst for a ‘Great Reset.’ Or it may be more technical: a global energy collapse, a manufactured world war, or even the spectre of an alien threat.
The Third Overwrite: The Myth of Progress and the 1970s–90s Melting Pot
When the Catholic synthesis fractured, the Enlightenment installed a new creed: progress. Hardship was justified as the price of a better tomorrow. Scientists became the new priests of reason. Revolutions re-enacted the archetype of reset through their own Year Zero.
Yet as the twentieth century closed, cracks began to show. World wars, genocides, ecological collapse, and propaganda disguised as science left people doubting both Church and consensus. Into those gaps poured a vast wave of alternative thought - a decentralised ‘movement without a church,’ fuelled by books, magazines, and conferences, each promising hidden truths.
It was intoxicating. But it also revealed how easily the old archetypes could be recycled, this time into a new religion of the ‘alternative.’
Progress as Secular Salvation
The Enlightenment transformed salvation into progress. Suffering and hardship on an industrial scale were justified as proof of movement toward perfection. The feudal lords and elites did not participate so much as profit - living lives of relative ease and luxury compared to the worker ants. Scientists and experts mediated truth just as priests once had. The myth of progress became its own opiate: pain dulled by hope in tomorrow, addiction to the dream of constant improvement, obedience to institutions that claimed to embody it.
Revolutions extended the flood/reset archetype. The French declared Year I. Communists declared Year Zero. Pol Pot attempted to wipe history itself clean. Each time, memory was erased to make way for a new covenant.
The 1970s–90s Melting Pot
As the myth of progress faltered, an alternative ferment erupted. From the 1960s onwards, authors such as von Däniken, Sitchin, Hapgood, Velikovsky, Temple, Fell, Tomas, and Kolosimo recycled flood, alien, and diffusion myths. Their works were often deeply flawed, but they pointed toward gaps in the consensus story. The groundwork had been laid earlier: the 1940s and 50s popularised extraterrestrial conspiracy theories and sci-fi speculations, priming the public imagination. Orson Welles had already demonstrated how prepared the masses were to believe the outlandish when his War of the Worlds broadcast was taken as a real invasion and panic ensued - a trial run, a test, a data-gathering exercise in how populations might respond to a perceived threat. One step closer to a future coup d’état.
By the 1990s, a second wave cross-pollinated. Hancock, Bauval, Allan & Delair, the Flem-Aths, Collins, Alford, Cremo, Gardner, Knight & Lomas, West, Schoch, Marrs, Hoagland and many more produced books that felt internally coherent, weaving anomalies and myths into sweeping grand narratives.
Magazines like Nexus, Namaste, Caduceus, and Fortean Times became the circulatory system of this movement: a decentralised network in which readers sensed they were part of a nebulous sect. Not bound by one creed, but united in the conviction that ‘there is more, and consensus is lying.’
It was a heady time. Many of us - myself included - devoured these works, convinced we were circling the truth.
We were. But many of us did not stop circling. Many of us kept reinforcing the peripheral data at the expense of seeing it from a central perspective. The nebulous and mass of conflicting data and frameworks always recognising the ‘something missing with the consensus’ yet always slighty unfocussed, always nearly explaining it all but never quite fully aligning all the dots entirely. Often gaslit by consensus academia, as certainties that once were used to denounce the more open-minded truth seeker were regularly challenged and updated, and conspiracy theories began to become the popular narrative to explain the missing data.
From the 1990s emerged a movement of open-minded sceptics alongside certain-minded believers - another expression of religion and laity that never quite knew where to settle. There were too many choices, too many variables, too many apparently logical explanations to fill the gaps where knowledge was absent. Naturally, we filled those gaps ourselves. I know, because I was doing exactly the same. I devoured those books, followed those theories, convinced I was circling the truth.
With the arrival of the internet, the ferment exploded and globalised. But the abundance of choice fractured into factions: Atlantis believers in one corner, alien and ascended masters or angel channelers in another, Bible-code hunters elsewhere. It felt like liberation, but in reality it was tribalism reborn in digital form.
And just as in earlier ages, this tribalism was easily exploited. Publishers, media outlets, and unseen hands could steer whole conversations by amplifying one voice, discrediting another, or setting factions against each other. The masses believed they were free - but freedom without reflection can be the most dangerous prison of all.
I was no less vulnerable than anyone else. That is why I recognise the mechanism so clearly now. When we remain sceptical, when we are willing to adjust to new data without bias or hubris, we have some protection. But when we mistake the thrill of choice for freedom itself, we leave ourselves open to those who understand our psyche better than we do.
Sympathy, Not Scorn
With hindsight, it is easy to point out the problems:
· Evemerism: myths treated as garbled memories of lost civilisations or alien visitations.
· Selective bias: anomalies cherry-picked, contradictions ignored or forced together.
· Susceptibility: without grounding in core academic works (Lehner on Egypt, Kramer and Dalley on Mesopotamia, and others), errors flourished.
But it is crucial to stress: this was not stupidity. It was hypnosis. The consensus left gaps so glaring that seekers naturally reached for whatever was available to fill them. And the narratives were designed to feel convincing.
That is why I never use words like sheeple. Hypnosis is not lack of intelligence. Doctors, scientists, and laypeople alike can be entranced by systems they trust. During Covid, for example, we saw ‘trust the science’ repeated as dogma, even when the data was weak. That was not stupidity, but narrative capture.
The alternative movement of the 1990s was no different. We were entranced by coherent-seeming answers. And because I was there - immersed in those narratives myself - I speak now with empathy, not contempt, for those still in it.
The Reset Potential of the Alternative Creed
This decentralised ‘alt-church’ carried a hidden danger. Like Catholicism and Communism, it primed people for a reset. All the ingredients of a new creed were already present:
Flood myths reframed as cataclysms.
Alien gods reframed as ancient astronauts.
Bloodlines reframed as conspiracies.
Atlantis reframed as lost covenant.
With digital tools and AI, such a nebulous belief system could easily be captured and consolidated into a new universal creed - a Bible 2.0. No inquisitions or gulags would be needed. Dissent could be filtered algorithmically, commerce restricted by digital ID, obedience enforced bloodlessly.
The 1970s–90s melting pot looked like liberation at the time. In hindsight, it may also have been preparation for the next overwrite.
The myth of progress fractured under its own failures. Into the gap rushed the alternative ferment of the 1970s–90s: books, magazines, conferences, a decentralised ‘movement without a church.’ It revealed real gaps in consensus, but also fell into evemerist traps, selective bias, and proto-religious fervour.
The lesson is not to scorn those who followed it. I was among them. It is to recognise how easily archetypes reappear in new clothing, and how sympathy, not contempt, is needed if we are to stand together against another overwrite.
The ants do not need to mock each other. They only need to remember their strength.
The Fourth Overwrite: Bible 2.0 Emerging
When faith in progress falters, elites must prepare the next narrative. The twentieth century saw the dream of inevitable advance collapse under world wars, genocides, nuclear fear, and ecological crisis. Yet the old archetypes remain too powerful to abandon. They are being rewritten once more into a new mythic system - one that speaks the language of technology and science fiction.
This is the fourth overwrite: the emergence of a new ‘universal religion’ framed not in terms of Yahweh or Rome, nor even Enlightenment progress, but in the idiom of aliens, Atlantis, and ancient advanced cultures. It is, in essence, Bible 2.0 - a repackaging of the same archetypes for an age that has lost faith in both priest and professor.
The Seeds: Roswell, Paperclip, and Disclosure
The groundwork was laid in the mid-twentieth century:
Roswell (1947): Whether crash or cover-up, it seeded the myth of alien craft and government secrecy. For the first time, the masses were told there might be ‘visitors’ from the sky.
Operation Paperclip: German scientists brought to America carried rocket and jet technology far beyond public awareness. Their breakthroughs were easier to attribute to ‘alien influence’ than to admit Nazi roots.
Cold War secrecy: Aerospace, nuclear, and computing projects were cloaked in UFO narratives. Mystery concealed technology while planting archetypal seeds of ‘gods from the sky.’
By the 1960s, UFOs and alien contact had saturated public imagination. The priesthood of science had created its own mythic scapegoat: the alien, both explanation and threat.
The Popularisers: Sitchin and von Däniken
The second step was the creation of a pseudo-historical canon:
Erich von Däniken (1968, Chariots of the Gods?): proposed that ancient monuments were evidence of alien visitation. Pyramids, Nazca lines, megaliths - all reframed as works of gods-as-astronauts.
Zecharia Sitchin (1976, The 12th Planet): claimed Sumerian texts recorded contact with ‘Anunnaki’ from Nibiru. He performed a second overwrite of the flood and king list, treating astronomical allegory as literal history.
Both repeated the evemerist error: myths misread as garbled memories of real beings. The flood became planetary disaster. The covenant became alien genetic engineering. Salvation became the return of the ‘visitors.’
The effect was to install the scaffolding for Bible 2.0: new patriarchs (ancient astronauts), new prophets (von Däniken, Sitchin), new revelation (ETs as gods).
Hancock and the Atlantis Reset
In the 1990s, Graham Hancock and others extended the overwrite.
Fingerprints of the Gods (1995): revived Atlantis as a real lost civilisation, destroyed by flood (the Younger Dryas).
Myths of gods and heroes were treated as cultural memories of Atlantis survivors - advanced culture-bringers.
The flood/reset archetype was reinterpreted geologically: comet strikes, polar shifts, catastrophes wiping civilisation.
The function remained the same: reset, survivors, covenant. Instead of Noah, Atlantis sages. Instead of Yahweh, cosmic disaster. The pattern was identical to Genesis, only clothed in new garb.
The Reset Archetype Re-emerges
In all these retellings, the reset remains central:
Sumerian king list → dynasties before and after the flood.
Genesis → patriarchs before and after Noah.
Plato → Atlantis destroyed, world renewed.
Communism → Year Zero, the ‘new man.’
WEF → ‘Great Reset.’
Ancient Astronauts → civilisation destroyed, aliens or Atlanteans will return.
Always the same pattern: catastrophe, survival, renewal under new covenant. Bible 2.0 is no different - only the covenant shifts: from god to alien, from church to technocrat.
Aliens as the New Catholicism
The alien mythos has unique advantages for control:
Universality: Unlike Yahweh, aliens can be for all humanity. They erase sectarian boundaries, as Catholicism once did.
Technological cover: Advanced weapons, propulsion, or AI can be attributed to aliens. Mystery conceals black projects.
Religious continuity: Angels and gods are easily rebranded as ETs. Biblical stories become ‘first contact.’
Future promise: Salvation shifts to disclosure - the apocalypse of revelation when aliens return.
Just as Catholicism claimed no salvation outside the Church, Bible 2.0 will claim no future without the visitors. The new ark is disclosure. The new priests are scientists, generals, and ‘experiencers.’
Government Disclosure Theatre
We are already in the rehearsal phase. Hearings in the US Senate, staged ‘leaks,’ and official acknowledgements of ‘unidentified aerial phenomena’ all function as controlled disclosure.
The paradox is deliberate: decades of denial, then sudden admission. The reversal itself creates credibility: ‘If they hid it, it must be true.’ This is how an opiate is made.
When the time comes, a ‘flyover’ or staged revelation could serve as the reset trigger. The flood is no longer water; it is disclosure itself. The masses will be told: your myths were always true, you just misunderstood. Now the real revelation is here.
Archetypes Re-Skinned
Flood and Renewal → Younger Dryas catastrophe myths, rebranded as alien ‘rescue.’
Exile and Return → Aliens framed as returning gods to set order right.
Dying and Rising God → Civilisations destroyed and reborn.
Goddess of Fertility → Earth as ‘Mother,’ to be saved through alien or technological covenant.
Promised Land → Future utopia, space colonisation, post-scarcity.
Every old pattern remains, rewritten in technological idiom.
The Coming Techno-Bible
Bible 2.0 is not just myth; it is system. Its creed will be simple:
Humanity is not alone.
Our origins were engineered or guided.
History has been hidden, but is now revealed.
Catastrophe threatens; only unity will save us.
The interpreters - scientists, states, technocrats - are the new priests.
This is the Techno-Catholicism of the future. Where Rome once mediated salvation through the Church, tomorrow’s elites will mediate survival through technology and disclosure.
The Function of Bible 2.0
The opiate cycle remains intact:
Painkiller: Explains anomalies, numbs anxiety - ‘You are not lost; you were guided.’
Addiction: Once accepted, believers crave more disclosure.
Control: Only elites can interpret contact. Dissenters are heretics again.
Like every overwrite, Bible 2.0 conceals fragility: elites still depend utterly on the masses. But by offering aliens as gods and disclosure as revelation, they buy themselves another 2,000 years of obedience.
Bible 2.0 is already here in embryo. From Roswell to Davos, from Atlantis to disclosure hearings, the same archetypes are recycled: flood, covenant, reset, salvation. Only the skin changes - aliens instead of angels, disclosure instead of revelation, Great Reset instead of Judgement Day.
This is the fourth overwrite in the Opiate Cycle. It will promise unity, progress, and salvation. But it is the same cycle of erasure and obedience. Unless the archetypes are recognised for what they are - patterns of sky, river, body, and ratio - the masses will again be drugged, the ants kept in line, the grasshoppers enthroned.
The Opiate Mechanism
The cycle of overwrites only works because human beings have deep needs: for meaning, for reassurance in suffering, for hope in the face of death. Archetypes once answered those needs directly in the earliest myths - the sun returned, the flood receded, the seed rose again. But once priesthoods, empires, and elites began to overwrite those archetypes, the function shifted.
Religion - and each of its successors - became what Karl Marx described: the opiate of the masses. The metaphor is exact. Like opium, these overwrites do three things: they dull pain, they create dependence, and they enforce obedience.
This is the opiate mechanism.
1. Painkiller: Numbing Suffering
Human life is hard. Floods destroy crops, death takes children, war and famine ravage. Archetypal myth once explained this suffering by embedding it in cycles: death followed by life, winter by spring. The pain was contextualised but not erased.
Overwrites, however, turned myth into anaesthetic:
Covenant: suffering becomes punishment for disobedience. Endure it, obey the law, and restoration will come.
Catholicism: pain is sanctified; indulgences and sacraments offer relief. ‘Your suffering is part of God’s plan.’
Progress: hardship is the price of tomorrow’s perfection. The factory worker’s misery is justified by the dream of a better world.
Bible 2.0: anxiety about apocalypse, aliens, or climate is soothed by the promise of disclosure and salvation through unity and technology.
In every case, the opiate reframes pain so it becomes tolerable, even meaningful. Exploitation is accepted because it is painted as divine, natural, or inevitable.
2. Addiction: Creating Dependence
Like a drug, the opiate cycle creates craving. Once embedded, it becomes hard to imagine life without it.
Covenant: identity itself depends on chosenness. Persecution paradoxically deepens belief, as trauma becomes proof of election.
Catholicism: social life revolved around the Church. To be outside was to be damned. From baptism at birth to last rites at death, dependence was cradle to grave.
Progress: people endured misery by trusting the future. Progress itself became addictive - new machines, new rights, new horizons. Without it, modern society feels meaningless.
Bible 2.0: already, millions crave ‘disclosure.’ UFO hearings, leaks, documentaries stoke anticipation. The addiction is salvation through contact.
Each overwrite becomes habit-forming. Believers cannot imagine life without it. The cycle sustains itself by generating its own dependency.
3. Control: Enforcing Obedience
The final function is obedience. By controlling the narrative of suffering and salvation, elites ensure submission.
Priests and Prophets: only they can interpret the covenant. The people obey not because the law is rational, but because it is divine.
Popes and Bishops: only they can dispense sacraments. Kings bowed because crowns came from Rome; the masses bowed because the Church held the keys of heaven and hell.
Experts and Politicians: only they can manage progress. Scientists, bankers, bureaucrats claim exclusive authority. To dissent is to be a crank or traitor.
Technocrats and ‘Disclosers’: only they can interpret alien or Atlantis narratives. Elites present themselves as mediators between humanity and its ‘visitors.’ Rejection becomes heresy anew.
The pattern is constant: mediators become indispensable. Obedience flows not to nature or cycle, but to institution.
4. Amnesia
Central to the theme of the catastrophe as reset, is the element of amnesia. We are encouraged to believe that what was once, was advanced and somehow more holy, true or aligned with the intelligent plan of God, yet we have forgotten this and need to restore the memory in order to become once again ‘on the righteous path.’ It is not our fault this happened, but the fault of our ancestors.
Therefore, to prevent such calamity again, we must restore ourselves to the state of our ancestors ‘before the Fall’. And that means, restoring the true memory: the original Divine plan.
Case Studies Through the Cycle
Catholic Indulgences
In the Middle Ages, the Church sold indulgences - certificates reducing time in purgatory. This was the opiate mechanism in pure form:
Painkiller: fear of hell soothed by indulgence.
Addiction: the more sins, the more indulgences needed.
Control: wealth and obedience channelled to Rome.
Martin Luther’s protest in 1517 struck at this mechanism, but Protestantism only recast the cycle in new form.
Revolutionary Utopias
The French and Russian revolutions used the opiate of progress:
Painkiller: misery justified as birth pangs of a new world.
Addiction: slogans of equality and justice created craving.
Control: dissenters purged as traitors.
Robespierre’s guillotine, Stalin’s show trials, Mao’s Red Guards - each enforced obedience in the name of future salvation.
Modern ‘Trust the Science’
The Covid era revealed the mechanism in technocratic form:
Painkiller: fear soothed by the promise of vaccines.
Addiction: endless boosters, perpetual emergency.
Control: mandates, censorship, ostracism of dissenters.
Here the opiate was not God, but ‘the science’ - yet the mechanism was identical.
The Reset as Ultimate Opiate
The most powerful form of the opiate is the reset archetype. It combines painkiller, addiction, and control in one stroke:
Painkiller: ‘Yes, disaster is coming - but the reset will heal.’
Addiction: each generation craves the cleansing apocalypse.
Control: elites present themselves as ark-builders, saviours, interpreters of catastrophe.
From Noah to Atlantis, from Year Zero to the Great Reset, the same drug is administered: destruction as renewal, mediated by the powerful.
The Psychology of the Opiate
The mechanism works because of deep human needs:
Belonging: to accept the opiate is to be part of the in-group, the saved, the enlightened.
Fear: to reject it is to be damned, excluded, ridiculed.
Hope: the opiate always offers a better tomorrow - heaven, utopia, disclosure.
The combination is irresistible. Fear binds, hope sustains, belonging secures. This is why religion and its successors endure.
The Fragility Beneath
Yet the mechanism is fragile. Like all addictions, it hides weakness: elites depend utterly on the obedience of the masses. If the ants ever refuse to feed the grasshoppers, the system collapses.
This is why every overwrite invests so heavily in narrative. Priests write scripture, scientists write textbooks, governments write laws, technocrats write ‘resets.’ The opiate cycle is a battle for memory. As long as people believe, elites survive. When disbelief sets in, the mask slips and fragility is revealed.
The opiate mechanism explains the durability of the overwrite cycle. Archetypes became covenant; covenant became Catholicism; Catholicism became progress; progress is now mutating into Bible 2.0. Each time, the drug is the same: painkiller, addiction, control.
Catholic indulgences, revolutionary utopias, modern technocracy - all are variations of the same opiate.
The reset archetype is the strongest dose, binding obedience by promising renewal through catastrophe.
Marx’s insight holds: religion - and its successors - is the opiate of the people.
But an opiate is not truth. It soothes, but it enslaves. It creates dependence, but hides fragility. It enforces obedience, but masks weakness.
Unless the mechanism is recognised for what it is, the cycle will continue. The ants will keep feeding the grasshoppers. And the opiate will keep flowing - stronger each time, more addictive with every overwrite.
The Core Fragility: The Bug’s Life Lesson
Every overwrite - covenant, Catholicism, progress, Bible 2.0 - appears invincible in its time. Each presents itself as inevitable, eternal, unchallengeable. Yet all share a hidden weakness: the elites who administer them depend utterly on the masses they rule.
This is the core fragility of the opiate cycle. No matter how strong the myth, no matter how addictive the narrative, the reality is that the ‘grasshoppers’ can only survive as long as the ‘ants’ obey. Once the masses refuse, the entire edifice collapses.
Pixar’s A Bug’s Life (1998) captures this fragility with uncanny precision.
The ants toil endlessly, gathering food. They already have all the skills and resources they need to thrive. But they believe they must serve the grasshoppers.
The grasshoppers contribute nothing. They feed parasitically on the ants’ labour, enforcing obedience through intimidation.
Hopper, their leader, explains the logic:
‘You let one ant stand up, then they all might stand up. And if they ever figure that out, there goes our way of life! It’s not about food. It’s about keeping those ants in line.’
This is the opiate mechanism in miniature. Grasshoppers rule not because they are stronger, but because they control perception. If the ants ever recognise their power, the cycle ends.
The Eloi and Morlocks
H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine (1895) provides a darker allegory. Humanity splits into:
The Eloi - docile, childlike, psycho-civilised, farmed and preyed upon.
The Morlocks - degenerate, subterranean, maintaining just enough machinery to survive.
Wells inverted the assumption: the elites did not vanish; they devolved into predators. The masses did not revolt; they became livestock.
This is the danger of the opiate cycle: if the ants forget their power too long, they risk becoming Eloi, softened beyond recovery, leaving the Morlocks to parasitise them indefinitely.
Historical Examples of Fragility
Despite the myths of permanence, history shows elites collapsing quickly when obedience breaks:
French Revolution (1789): The monarchy seemed divine and eternal, yet famine and taxation cracked obedience; the ancien régime fell in months.
Russian Revolution (1917): The Tsar’s sacred legitimacy evaporated once soldiers and workers mutinied; the empire collapsed almost overnight.
Ceausescu’s Romania (1989): Decades of fear collapsed in a single week when the crowd turned in Bucharest.
Each shows the same fragility: power was never in the palace, but in the people’s consent.
The Modern Fragility of Elites
Today’s elites are more fragile than ever:
Practical dependence: most cannot farm, mend, or build. Their survival rests on networks of service.
Digital fragility: remove electricity, servers, or supply chains, and their systems vanish.
Security dependence: armies and police are drawn from the masses; without their compliance, coercion is impossible.
The myth of elite superiority hides a truth: they are utterly dependent. They live only because the ants still feed them.
If the ants do not comply, who will feed them, mend their things, pay their high interest loans, farm their fields, dig their resources and create their tools, stoke their fires or maintain their electricity through which they control the world at the press of a button from the comfort of their armchairs? What skills do they have for survival if all this was withdrawn? Where does the practical knowledge for survival and evolution rest? In the workers - the ants - not the feudalist lords who have become so nested in luxury they can barely open their own doors for themselves.
In the event of a real global catastrophe that may knock out communications and remove the mechanism through which elite control functions, what value is an aristocrat or billionaire banker if they cannot contribute to the greater good? A real catastrophe like that would be the ultimate leveller - the rest would be pre-ordained and inevitable.
A managed and staged one, however, would be a gift to the elite. But only if they can convince the masses to act in accordance with the plan.
The Purge of Intellectuals
Elites know this fragility, which is why they often turn on intellectuals. Communist regimes purged teachers, writers, and thinkers not because they were powerful, but because they might remind the masses of their own.
Stalin exiled or executed ‘bourgeois specialists.’
Mao unleashed Red Guards against professors and elders.
Pol Pot killed anyone with glasses, fearing literacy itself.
The opiate can only work if memory is erased. Any reminder that myths are constructs, or that power is fragile, must be stamped out.
The Reset Threat Again
The modern ‘Great Reset’ is not accidental. Elites invoke the reset archetype to manage fragility:
‘Without us, apocalypse will come.’
‘With us, renewal will follow.’
This is Hopper’s logic, but in global policy. The grasshoppers know they cannot survive without the ants, so they conjure resets to prolong obedience.
The Core Paradox
The paradox of the opiate cycle is this:
The stronger the myth appears, the more fragile the reality beneath.
Each overwrite - covenant, Catholicism, progress, Bible 2.0 - seemed unassailable in its moment. Yet each collapsed quickly once belief cracked.
Elites rule by perception, not strength. Their survival depends entirely on obedience.
The Psychology of Obedience
Why do the ants obey?
Fear: punishment, damnation, exclusion.
Hope: salvation, progress, disclosure.
Belonging: to reject the myth is to be outcast.
But once fear breaks, once hope is exposed as false, once belonging shifts, obedience dissolves rapidly. This is why regimes fall ‘suddenly,’ even after decades of apparent permanence. The ants remember their strength.
The core fragility of the opiate cycle is simple: the many feed the few. The ants sustain the grasshoppers. The Eloi sustain the Morlocks. The masses sustain the elites.
Every overwrite conceals this fragility with myths of covenant, salvation, progress, reset. But beneath the myths, the truth remains: elites cannot survive without the obedience of the people.
This is the lesson of A Bug’s Life. It is also the warning of history. The cycle will continue only as long as the ants forget their strength. The moment they remember, the cycle ends.
And when that moment comes, the grasshoppers will be seen for what they always were: fragile parasites, living only on the obedience of those they claim to rule.
As Gandhi reminded his people under the Raj:
‘It is not by force of arms that the English hold India, but because we keep them. In fact, we are the real sustainers of their power.’
And again:
‘The English have not taken India; we have given it to them. They are not in India because of their strength, but because we keep them.’
Which is why he could ask, in essence: how can a handful of Englishmen rule hundreds of millions of Indians, unless those millions consent to be ruled?
And his answer was as simple as it was devastating:
‘The moment the slave resolves that he will no longer be a slave, his fetters fall. He frees himself and shows the way to others. Freedom and slavery are mental states.’
Conclusion: Returning to the First Scripture
If the overwrites thrive by capturing archetypes, the antidote is to return to them in their natural form. Before covenant, before Catholicism, before progress and Bible 2.0, the first scripture was nature itself. The sun rose, the river flooded, the seed broke and rose again, the body breathed, bled, and loved. These were the truths written into sky and soil, not into decrees or dogmas.
When remembered in this way, archetypes are not opiates but guides. They do not numb, addict, or enforce. They remind. They place us again in the cycle of life we already belong to. They show us that resilience, renewal, and meaning do not come from elites, but from the eternal rhythms of nature.
This is how the ants remember their power: not through new myths offered by grasshoppers, but through the living memory of the world itself. The sky, the river, the seed, and the star were always the true scripture. To return to them is to break the spell.
The deeper dive from a personal perspective: From the 1990s Alternative Wave to Storm God
In the 1990s, I was immersed in the great surge of alternative history. Like many, I devoured the works of Hancock, Bauval, Bramley, Alford, Collins, Allan and Delair, Gardner, Knight and Lomas, and many others. I subscribed to magazines like Nexus and followed every discussion of pyramids, OOPArts, and ancient astronauts. It was a heady time, and I was part of it.
Back then, I was also listening to channellers and mystics, and framing my own writing through that mindset. I saw flood myths, anomalous artefacts, and global parallels as fragments of a single suppressed story: Atlantis, cataclysm, alien intervention. It felt coherent, and it gave a sense of meaning. My 1995/96 Lifting the Veil reflected that enthusiasm.
By 2000, however, I had begun to reassess. Reading academic works on Mesopotamia and Egypt, I saw how much of the ‘ancient astronaut’ scaffolding rested on strained translations and selective quoting. Sitchin’s influence in particular became impossible to defend. Writers like Alan Alford went through the same process: beginning as Sitchin’s supporters, then recanting and turning toward catastrophism or symbolic readings. Even Hancock, who I once felt was forcing the Younger Dryas into everything, has since refined his position into something more grounded - even if I still think he sometimes over-weights evidence.
The past two decades have been a long exile for me, marked by debilitating illness and struggle. Yet with renewed impetus to examine where I was then and where I am now, I find that nothing much has changed. New voices at the vanguard echo what we were saying in the 1990s. Some researchers from that era remain active, expanding their corpus. Hancock is as popular today as he was then, now with a Netflix series (Ancient Apocalypse) reaching millions. For that reason, I will spend some time focusing on Hancock - with agreements and disagreements that apply equally to many other researchers, theorists, and internet personalities who have emerged in the past 20, and especially the last five, years.
What began in the early 1990s, became a self-published book in the mid-1990s, and seeded a magazine and nearly a decade of revision, is now an arc: a learning curve worth setting out clearly. Twenty-five years later, I can see my own trajectory with greater clarity. I understand the temptations of framework-building, because I was there. The orthodox consensus left enormous gaps, and the alternative writers filled them with big, dramatic stories. But those stories often circled back to biblical evemerism - treating Osiris or the Anunnaki as if they were extraordinary humans or visitors, rather than understanding them as mythic structures encoding ratios, floods, and cycles.
Today my work on the Storm God, Orion, and hydronyms provides a different path. Return of the Storm God traces the development of gods and goddesses from around 6000 BCE onwards, using the primary nexus of Orion, Taurus, Pleiades, Sirius, and Jupiter as its palette. This is not to ignore the preceding four or five millennia that scholars like Hancock have explored, but to situate the myths of the historic period as functional science of their age: field logic, river cycles, stellar markers, and proportional ratios. These were not ‘memories of spacefarers’ but structural encodings of how the world works. At the same time, they may indeed preserve cultural memory of real events - floods, catastrophes, upheavals - whose traces remain embedded in story.
The task now is to delineate carefully between what is mythic-scientific and what may be historical. That is the purpose of my current work. In time, I expect to follow it with a closer examination of the earlier periods that point to a more technologically advanced human footprint than consensus allows - and at a far earlier date. To restore our mythic and historical heritage, and to release it from the grip of biased academic frameworks on one side and speculative evemerism on the other, is vital if we are to escape the hypnotic hold these recycled archetypes exert over us.
I remain sympathetic to the 1990s wave. It cracked open doors bolted shut by consensus. It gave readers permission to doubt the official story. For that, it deserves respect. But the next step is to refine - to move from evemerist biography back to the original mythic grammar. That is the path of Storm God, and it is the corrective lens I now carry into the discussion of Bible 2.0.
Perhaps I am overly sceptical and overly speculative. I have learned never to underestimate the scale and organisation of the ‘hidden hand.’ My first principle is to suspect everything and everyone, to take a Sherlock Holmesian approach: rule nothing out, even the most bizarre theory, unless and until evidence falsifies it. I continue to theorise on outlier data that fills gaps in knowledge, sometimes straining credibility - but hopefully always with just cause. Because sometimes the most tentative threads can lead to the most solid tapestries. And sometimes, the truth emerges not in the present, but in the future, when clearer data either supports or disproves the pattern.
Göbekli Tepe, Hancock, and the Silence of Orion
Göbekli Tepe (GT) has become the banner site for the ‘lost civilisation’ debate. To some, it is proof that sophisticated culture existed long before Mesopotamia. To others, it is the smoking gun of a cataclysm that wiped the slate clean. But when placed alongside Jericho, Çatalhöyük, Malta, or Cappadocia, its anomaly becomes stark.
Those other sites look like what they are: organic, messy, and fragile experiments in settlement. GT, by contrast, stands apart - too pristine, too neatly preserved, too convenient. And against the wider evidence presented by Hancock from around the world, GT sticks out like a sore thumb. To me, it feels almost too anomalous, too perfectly formed, and too conveniently discovered at the very moment when such a site was required to reinforce certain fringe theories.
The Outlier Problem
Early Neolithic sites look as they should: organic, messy, fragile. Jericho’s walls collapse and are rebuilt. Çatalhöyük is claustrophobic, full of shrines and burials. Malta’s temples are weathered, rebuilt, and scarred by time. Cappadocia’s complexes look lived-in, layered, and utterly authentic. These are real human experiments: ingenious, but fraught with disease, poor planning, and the hardships of settlement.
Göbekli Tepe looks different. Its T-pillars are smooth, its reliefs crisp, its enclosures pristine. The explanation is deliberate backfill, but that also makes the site function like a time capsule - preserved for a future unveiling. Conveniently, it was ‘discovered’ in the 1990s, just as the Younger Dryas impact hypothesis was gaining traction and the alternative-archaeology boom (Hancock, Bauval, Allan & Delair) needed an anchor. One site, out of place in a sea of consistent data, suddenly became the Rosetta Stone of post-catastrophe culture.
Interestingly, T-shaped forms have also been noted by Hancock in the Americas. Not pillars this time, but holes in the sipapu of the Hopi kivas - shamanic chambers associated with emergence from the underworld, the place of ancestral ‘first peoples.’
The problem is continuity. The ‘Vulture Stone’ at Göbekli Tepe depicts scorpions and vultures in ways strikingly similar to how the Sumerians, thousands of years later, identified the constellations. Yet between GT (c. 9500 BCE) and Sumer (c. 3000 BCE) there is no trail: no intermediate imagery, no tablets, no iconographic record to connect them. The forms are also uncannily akin to the Pueblo kivas of the American Southwest, both in colour and arrangement. But again, the separation is absolute: millennia of time and continents of distance, with no evidence of contact.
This leaves two uncomfortable options. Either GT is genuinely what Hancock and others claim - a surviving trace of a post-Flood master culture that seeded later traditions worldwide - or it is ‘too convenient,’ a site whose imagery appears tailor-made to provide exactly that proof. What remains absent in both cases is the crucial middle ground: a continuous trail of evidence over the missing 10,000 years.
These kivas do resemble the GT complex in colour, condition, and T-shaped forms. Yet they look appropriate to their age and environment. It is tempting to then join the dots and ‘discover’ proof: that GT, though remote in time and space, was the original work of catastrophe survivors, and that Pueblo forms millennia later are echoes of its inheritance. One can even imagine the claim that the pillar of GT is designed to fit into the key-shaped ‘lock’ of a kiva - and that some mystical code has been cracked.
Should someone measure the T-shaped hole at a kiva and find it matches the dimensions of the Vulture Pillar, would this not be hailed as revelation? GT as key, the Pueblo as lock - separated by 10,000 years with no possible contact. What other conclusion could there be? GT as the original, remembered and enacted by indigenous ancestors in the Americas.
The associations are obvious, as if by design. Just waiting to be ‘discovered.’ But whose design? Ancient and original - or modern and manipulated? Perhaps deliberately constructed in secret, based on the Pueblo and Sumerian, yet exact to neither, so as to provide the ‘evidence’ required to prove a great truth as yet unrealised.
Would this not then serve as an exemplar of the claim that we were once more advanced, then forgot, and only inherited fragments of higher culture that existed before the Flood? In turn, such ‘proof’ would indirectly support the religious narrative: that Noah’s Flood was real, and that the Bible’s chosen race descended from divinely appointed patriarchs.
This is a purely theoretical scenario. But it fits the evidence. And it would require us to accept that elites with means and motive are invested enough to create illusory proof in order to instil a Bible 2.0. Perhaps it is a theory too far?
(This is admittedly a wild speculation. See Appendix III , dedicated to the evidence and counter-evidence around the fringe catastrophe theories and Gobekli Tepe.)
The silence of Orion
More telling than what is present is what is missing. The consistently drifting cults associated with what I have named the Drift Culture all encode Orion and its nexus with Sirius, Pleiades, Taurus, and Jupiter. Orion is the axis: the storm god, the hunter, the dying-and-rising archetype. But at Göbekli Tepe, Orion is absent. Instead, the showcase carving (Pillar 43, the ‘Vulture Stone’) highlights Scorpius - a constellation peripheral to the core mythic grammar.
That silence is decisive. To admit Orion is to restore Osiris as archetype, not biography. It dismantles 2,500 years of biblical evemerism, in which gods were collapsed into men. It shows myth as field science, not patriarchal history. Its absence protects the biblical frame.
And this silence extends to Graham Hancock’s own work. In the early 1990s, with Robert Bauval, Orion was at the centre. The Giza–Orion correlation brought archaeoastronomy into mainstream debate and put Osiris back into his stellar context. But after Heaven’s Mirror (1998), the arc shifted. Egypt was reduced to a backdrop, Osiris was reframed as a ‘memory of an ancient king,’ and Orion disappeared from Hancock’s narrative. From then on, the Younger Dryas catastrophe became his universal lens.
Hancock has adjusted in other ways. He no longer relies on more fantastical territories explored by Sitchin or ETs. He has dropped weak scaffolding and assembled formidable geological, archaeological, and oceanographic evidence for a real cataclysm at the end of the Ice Age. In that sense, he has evolved. But where gaps remain, he fills them with one theory only. Alignments, myths, and anomalies are corralled into the catastrophe arc, even when they could also support parallel readings. Orion, which points to the mythic–astronomical grammar of Osiris, is omitted. That is confirmation bias: not a crime, not fraud, but the human temptation to funnel data into the framework one is most invested in.
The anomaly of access?
Here lies another Holmesian clue. Hancock is denounced by academia as fringe, even ‘bonkers,’ yet enjoys access few accredited archaeologists ever achieve: permits at restricted heritage sites, divers, ships, submersibles, film crews, Netflix budgets. He is mocked in words but resourced in deeds. This double status suggests orchestration. Whether by publishers, media, patrons, or deeper sponsors, the effect is the same: a steady flow of evidence framed through the catastrophe-reset lens - the very lens that primes global audiences for Bible 2.0.
Göbekli Tepe as keystone
Taken together, Göbekli Tepe and Hancock’s later work serve the same function. GT, whether authentic or curated, acts like a planted keystone: pristine, perfectly timed, with one ‘Rosetta’ pillar that encodes catastrophe, while the rest look generic. Hancock, whether intentional or not, channels every anomaly into a Younger Dryas flood.
Sympathetic but critical
I am sympathetic to Hancock. His persistence is human. He has been attacked for decades. I experienced some of that myself, and publicly. But he has fought back with conviction. His evidence for catastrophe is strong, his courage real. But his framework is narrow, and its omissions serve a narrative not his own. By excluding Orion, by reframing Osiris only as a king, and by making catastrophe the sole interpretive key, his work - whether by design or drift - functions as propaganda for Bible 2.0.
The danger is not that Hancock fabricates, but that he narrows. The evidence for a cataclysmic upheaval around the Younger Dryas is real. But so is the Orion nexus. They are parallel, not exclusive. To collapse everything into one framework is to repeat the biblical trick: evemerism disguised as history.
To restore Orion is to see the larger truth: myth was functional science, field logic, and proportion. It carried memory of events, yes, but more importantly it encoded the ratios of life itself. That is what Hancock omits - and that silence is the Holmesian clue.
Gratitude and Realignment
It is important to express appreciation. Without the work of writers such as Graham Hancock and many others, most of the anomalies we now debate would never have been brought to light. They did the painstaking work of gathering fragments, pointing to anomalies, and showing where consensus accounts did not hold. They put the dots on the table.
Hancock in particular deserves thanks. Whatever his framing, he has made millions aware of data that mainstream academia dismissed. He highlighted the anomalous, showed the cracks in consensus, and created the conditions for others to see beyond official history. He gave us dots that otherwise might have been buried or forgotten.
But the question is never simply whether the dots exist. It is how they are joined. Dots can be arranged in different patterns. Some lenses omit, others exaggerate. To see the whole picture, we must align every piece of data without omission and without forcing it to fit one frame.
That is where Return of the Storm God enters. By reinserting Orion - not as a king, but as the mythic-scientific axis - the pattern shifts. Osiris is revealed not as a dynastic memory, but as the stellar archetype of rebirth and proportion. The flood remains significant, but it is one thread among many, not the master key. When the dots are traced through this wider grammar, the tapestry of human history looks different: not Bible 2.0, not lost-king biographies, but myth as science, ratio, and cosmic field logic.
The case is simple. We thank Hancock and his peers for their work. But when all the dots are placed together - including Orion - the pattern they form is not the one they imagined. It is wider, deeper, and more coherent. It is the Storm God’s axis.
Summary: Flood, Göbekli, and Atlantis
1. The Flood as Reset vs the Flood as Salvation
The earliest myths of Egypt, Sumer, and Vedic India never framed the flood as God’s punishment or as a species-saving event. Floods were cycles of balance, cosmic resets, or quarrels among gods. Only later, in Zoroastrian Yima, late Mesopotamian redactions, and the Hebrew Bible, does the motif of salvation through ark and animals appear. This shows the biblical flood is not primeval memory but a late overwrite - a political fiction repurposing older cycles into a drama of obedience, punishment, and chosen preservation.
The Yima Myth and Its Timeline
Early Avesta (c. 1200–1000 BCE, oral composition)
The Avesta is the sacred corpus of Zoroastrianism. Its oldest layer, the Gathas (attributed to Zarathustra), is usually dated to 1200–1000 BCE.
In the Gathas, there is no flood or ark. The focus is dualist struggle (asha vs druj, truth vs lie), not catastrophe or preservation.
Younger Avesta (c. 1000–500 BCE, oral; written down much later)
The Yima story appears not in the Gathas but in later Avesta texts such as the Vendidad.
In Vendidad II, Ahura Mazda warns Yima of a coming winter that will devastate the world. Yima builds a vara (enclosure) to preserve seeds, animals, and a small human community.
The purpose is explicit: to preserve creation from destruction. This is the first clear version of the ‘ark logic’ we later see in Noah.
Redaction and writing (c. 500–300 BCE; committed to writing later)
The Avesta was transmitted orally until at least the Achaemenid period.
Most scholars agree the Vendidad took shape between the 6th and 4th centuries BCE, under Achaemenid influence.
The corpus was first written down under the Sasanian dynasty (3rd–7th centuries CE), but its content reflects those earlier Achaemenid traditions.
Timeline summary:
No preservation motif in early Iranian religion.
Yima’s vara appears in the Vendidad, shaped between 600–300 BCE.
This is the earliest robust attestation of a flood/ice-age catastrophe where the explicit purpose is to save mankind, animals, and plants.
Comparison
Mesopotamia (Atrahasis, c. 17th century BCE): animals and family are saved, but incidentally, not as the flood’s divine purpose.
Yima (Vendidad, c. 600–300 BCE): preservation of species is the explicit purpose.
Hebrew Bible (Genesis, compiled 600–400 BCE): preservation of the righteous remnant and animals is the purpose.
The preservation motif therefore appears late - around 600–400 BCE in Iranian and Hebrew traditions - not in the earliest myths of Egypt, Sumer, or Vedic India. This makes it a first-millennium innovation, not a memory carried from the Ice Age.
Atlantis and Magnesia: Allegory, Not History
Plato’s Timaeus and Critias present Atlantis as allegory, just as his Laws presents Magnesia. Both are thought experiments about order, hubris, and balance. Atlantis was never intended as history; its numbers are ratios, its years are cycles, its function is philosophical. To treat it as an Ice Age memory is to misread Plato as chronicle instead of allegorist. No lost continent, no drowned high culture: only allegory, later reinterpreted by evemerists as biography.
Conclusion
The pattern is clear. The earliest myths contain no Noah’s ark. Plato’s Atlantis is allegory, not history. Göbekli Tepe is an anomaly that serves a narrative but omits Orion - the one stellar key that would dismantle the biblical framework.
Hancock and others have done valuable work in bringing anomalies to light. But by narrowing them to catastrophe, they inadvertently reinforce the Bible’s overwrite. The evidence, taken as a whole, shows the opposite of what Bible 2.0 claims. The ark is late. The flood-as-salvation is a graft. Atlantis is allegory. And Orion is the missing axis.
Restore Orion, and Osiris is no longer a king but a stellar archetype; myth is not biography but cosmic science. In that restoration, the Bible’s claim to ancient truth collapses. It is revealed for what it is: a late Roman-Ptolemaic reset - a business model of obedience.
Hancock treats the biblical flood as one item among many, not as primary. Yet the effect is the same as the remit of church archaeology two centuries ago: to provide proof of the Bible’s truth. By making the biblical story appear as part of a universal flood memory, he normalises it, validates it, and restores its credibility. In this way, his work inadvertently completes the very project that archaeology was created to serve.
Hancock’s Ancient Apocalypse as Example
It is not to denigrate Graham Hancock in particular, but to use him as a convenient example.
Hancock acknowledges stellar alignments as a commonality, and he recognises the serpent as a recurrent symbol. Yet there is no mention of Orion, nor of serpent wisdom as it was understood in antiquity - linked with the mother goddess, water, vision, and renewal.
He rightly claims that consensus dismisses him unfairly, though many times they do so fairly. But then - unconsciously or not - he constructs artificial ‘gaps’ for the lay reader. For instance, he presents a set of human footprints dated to over 20,000 years ago as an extraordinary anomaly. Yet we already know that humans were travelling widely hundreds of thousands of years ago. Finding footprints is not an astonishing mystery. But he frames it as such in order to insert his theory as an answer to something that was never very mysterious to begin with. To the uninformed viewer, this sounds persuasive; to anyone familiar with the data, it is not.
He also spends considerable time arguing that underground structures such as Chaco Canyon or the kivas were built as ‘escape pods’ to protect from danger from the sky. Yet he simultaneously emphasises their stellar alignments, and dates them firmly in the AD period. So which is it? If the builders were urgently seeking shelter from catastrophe, they would have dug expedient holes in the ground, not invested centuries of observation and construction in astronomically aligned monuments. The two explanations are mutually inconsistent.
Likewise with the Maya: he stresses the ‘astonishing’ sudden appearance of pyramid technology, as though it were evidence of inheritance from a lost civilisation after 10,000 BCE. Yet Babylonian and Egyptian cultures had already refined the same mathematics and astronomy at least two millennia earlier. There is no mystery here. The far simpler explanation is that people already familiar with the technology travelled there much later, bringing the knowledge with them. Their architecture and myths resemble Old World precedents not because of some cataclysmic reset, but because of diffusion and cultural contact.
In every case, Hancock aligns evidence to his theory and presents no serious alternatives. Orion is absent. The central stellar grammar of myth is ignored. The serpent is mentioned, but never in its true context as wisdom and goddess archetype. Instead, myths are taken literally as evemerist ‘history,’ and all data is forced to serve the Younger Dryas catastrophe model.
One of the most striking weaknesses in Hancock’s presentation lies in his treatment of alignments. When a temple or kiva shows precise stellar alignment, he takes it as deliberate proof of ancient sky-watching genius. Yet when the alignment is slightly off, he ‘corrects’ it by backdating the construction to a time when it would have matched the sky. Both cannot be true. Either alignments are reliable dating markers or they are not. The inconsistency betrays not discovery but retrofitting.
And when the site in question is not remotely near his preferred 9–10,000 BCE horizon - perhaps late BC or even AD - he deploys a different tactic. He acknowledges the builders’ genius, concedes the monument is much later, and then quietly concludes: ‘it’s clearly quite old, and may be evidence of 10,000 BC.’ A phrase of faux-modesty, but the effect is to slide the later site into his master narrative. It is a poker player’s trick: slip a stray card into the hand and suddenly you’ve got a run. The lay viewer, impressed by the scholarship, hardly notices the smuggle.
And the question, ‘why would ancient people go to such effort to align earth and sky?’ is made to sound like a mystery. But it is not. Humanity has always built axes to connect heaven and earth: the Gothic cathedral, the Giza pyramid, the Mayan temple, the standing stone circle. Alignment is not anomaly, it is norm. Meaning is why they built, not survival from catastrophe. To present this as some secret revelation is no different from priests declaring that only they know the mysteries of God.
Hancock’s method leaves the viewer believing that every single data point he examines proves one thing: that a lost technological elite survived the Ice Age and went on to civilise the world. But how is this fundamentally different from religious evemerism, which reduces gods to exaggerated men, or from Waddell’s claim of a civilising Aryan aristocracy? In each case, the conclusion is pre-decided. All evidence is bent to support it, whether through intent or unconscious bias.
Even data that contradicts the thesis is quietly massaged to fit, and evidence with no connection at all is presented as if it does. What is left out - the mass of material that cannot be reconciled with the theory - never reaches the lay audience. To them, the narrative appears seamless, the logic watertight. The result is the impression that Hancock has proved his case, that scholars reject him not for errors but out of envy and fear, and that the real arrogance lies with consensus academics.
The truth, of course, is far more complex. Grey areas abound. Consensus is not all wrong, and Hancock is not all right. Both sides carry flawed assumptions and biases. My hope is to avoid bias of my own, though I cannot be certain I always succeed. What I can say is this: I will never knowingly wrench data out of context to force-fit a conclusion. If evidence disproves me, then I must adjust. That, to me, is the only honest way to seek truth.
Where I do speculate, I aim to let the evidence guide me. A theory remains a theory. Take my suggestion of a possible Bible 2.0: I do not insist it is unassailable truth. I present it as possible, evidenced, and with historical precedent. That makes it a grounded thesis, not a fantasy. It requires no invented data, no misrepresentation, and no wild leaps.
To some, it may seem far-fetched. But what is unreasonable about theorising that the same forces which once used the Bible - perhaps the most effective tool of social control in history - might one day attempt the same again? The precedents are there. The resets are many.
As Holmes would say, one does not discard a theory simply because it offends our sensibilities. Often the most dastardly schemes succeed precisely because we cannot imagine anyone would dare attempt them.
The Illusion of Quantity
I must pause here in empathy, because I recognise the pattern in myself. In the 1990s, when I was first devouring the alternative canon, I was doing exactly what Hancock’s viewers are invited to do now. I read one author after another - fringe writers who all shared a similar interpretive framework. Each one seemed to confirm the others. The cross-references, the repeated motifs, the apparent ‘independent’ discoveries created a sense of overwhelming confirmation. Surely, I thought, with this many authors saying the same thing, it must be true.
What I did not yet grasp was that I was reading inside a closed circle. The ‘mass of evidence’ was really a mass of repetition. Each writer cited the others, or drew from the same narrow pool of assumptions. The sheer quantity of examples mimicked proof, but it was an illusion.
I only realised later that true confirmation requires mining each data point from multiple directions - asking whether it still stands when tested against evidence outside the circle. Many times it does not. This is why quantity can be dangerous: it feels like weight, but it can just as easily be a weight of redundancy.
That is what Hancock’s series risks leaving with the lay viewer: the impression that dozens of sites across the globe all point to one conclusion, when in fact they are all being funnelled through the same interpretive bias. The result is not cumulative proof, but cumulative persuasion.
And yet, it must also be said: much of the data Hancock presents does deserve attention. He highlights anomalies that consensus scholarship has too often ignored or dismissed, and for that he deserves credit. In doing so, he has indirectly helped prove the central thesis of Return of the Storm God: that there is a continuity of knowledge running far earlier, far wider, and far more advanced than conventionally acknowledged. On that point, I agree entirely - the global continuity is undeniable.
Where I differ is in the details. I do not see the need to posit a ‘super race’ or a single post-catastrophe civilisation that re-seeded wisdom across the globe. The evidence points instead to something subtler: an early start, with survivors of calamities whose struggles shaped human evolution and informed development. Continuities arose, yes, but through observation, transmission, and adaptation - not through a single advanced source civilisation.
Central Thesis: From Bible 1.0 to Bible 2.0
Here is a rough timeline of the Biblical reset and opiate cycle as I see it, from the Greeks to the present.
1. Antiquity – Bible 1.0
Ptolemaic reset: Manetho and Alexandrian scholarship humanised gods into kings, veiled the goddess, and turned myth into dynastic biography.
Roman consolidation: Hebrew exclusivism (covenant, chosen people, jealous god) was fused with Ptolemaic evemerism. Priests replaced legions. The Bible became Rome’s business model: one book, one god, one empire.
Outcome: Indigenous wealth and labour flowed voluntarily to Rome as tithe and ‘salvation,’ not as plunder. Myth was overwritten as history.
2. Modernity – The Archaeological Mandate
From the Enlightenment onwards, archaeology was tasked with one covert brief: ‘dig up proof of the Bible.’ Expeditions to Mesopotamia, Palestine, and Egypt were funded to find patriarchs, temples, and flood layers.
Effect: anomalies and artefacts were presented as confirmation that the Bible was historically true.
3. Late 20th Century – The Alternative Wave
Authors such as von Däniken, Sitchin, Allan & Delair, Hancock, and others broke the consensus, exposing anomalies and suppressed data.
Yet their frameworks (ancient astronauts, Younger Dryas catastrophe, flood memories) still left the biblical flood standing - no longer unique, but validated as part of a universal catastrophe memory.
Göbekli Tepe became the keystone: pristine, perfectly timed, and interpreted only through catastrophe, with Orion - the real mythic axis - conspicuously absent.
Effect: the Bible’s flood was ‘confirmed,’ not refuted - its logic normalised by comparison.
4. Today – The Preparation for Bible 2.0
The same archetypes are being recycled:
Flood/reset → climate collapse, comet threat, ‘Great Reset.’
Ark → bunkers, seed vaults, biodomes, space colonisation.
Covenant → digital ID, genetic covenant, planetary stewardship.
Chosen remnant → ‘all humanity’ under technocratic mediation.
Alternative archaeology provides the dots. Consensus science provides the updates. Media provides the spectacle. All it needs is a trigger event - a flood analogue - to justify a new universal creed.
Conclusion
The anomalies are real. The catastrophes happened. But the way they are framed serves a project older than Rome: the overwrite of myth into obedience. Just as Ptolemy and Rome turned Osiris and Isis into patriarchs, divine royal Jewish family, and saints, so too are modern elites preparing to turn Göbekli Tepe, the Younger Dryas, and global flood myths into proof of a new revelation.
Bible 2.0 will be marketed not as faith, but as science, disclosure, and survival.
The evidence does not vindicate the Bible - it reveals its fictionality. The real key is Orion, the cosmic axis ignored by both orthodoxy and its challengers. Restore Orion, and the pattern becomes clear: the flood was always about reset and proportion, never about salvation of the chosen. To see this now is to refuse the spell of Bible 2.0 before it is written.
OPS - Psyops for Bible 2.0
The ancient astronaut thesis, UFO disclosure narratives, and their countless spin-offs have not been organic truth-seeking movements. They are operations - psychological scripts seeded and sustained by intelligence, media, and publishing networks. Their function is simple: replace the old religion with a new one.
Sitchin mistranslated and reframed Mesopotamian texts into space opera, turning gods-as-cycles into aliens-as-spacefarers.
Von Däniken made spectacle of anomalies, reframing human genius as alien import.
David Icke fused Waddell’s decoding with Sitchin’s distortions, building a mythology of reptilian elites that buried the truth of early human genius under lurid spectacle.
New Age channels and Disclosure movements carried the same message: the gods were aliens, they will return, and our role is to obey or await salvation.
The purpose is clear: prepare the field for Bible 2.0.
Bible 1.0 turned Osiris into a king, erased Isis, and imposed one book, one god, one empire.
Bible 2.0 reframes the same archetypes in technical and extra-terrestrial terms - floods as resets, arks as seed vaults, gods as aliens, covenants as genetic or digital contracts.
This is not about whether craft exist or whether psychic phenomena occur - they do. It is about narrative framing. OPS take genuine mysteries and anomalies, then bend them back into a story that validates the same archetype of external saviours and punishment–salvation cycles.
As I argued in ETs and Ancient Astronauts – Re-evaluated (2025), the alien myth is not about disclosure. It is a psyop. It replaces one priesthood with another, one external authority with another. It lays the groundwork for a Bible updated with ‘science’ - the same archetypes in modern clothes.
The ancients were not helpless primitives awaiting alien engineers. They were us. They encoded cycles, ratios, and stellar science in myth. To reduce their genius to ‘aliens did it’ is to strip us of ancestry and agency.
If this theory is correct, Bible 2.0 will not emerge as a sacred scripture but as consensus revelation. It will take shape through archaeology presented as proof, disclosure hearings framed as transparency, UFOs caught on camera, and the official admission that ‘aliens are here.’ It will likely be coupled with the claim that the original Bible was a misinterpretation of ancient astronaut encounters - that gods were misunderstood visitors, and that ancient myths were coded warnings of catastrophe. Climate resets, AI-validated ‘discoveries,’ and carefully curated anomalies would provide the stage on which this narrative is made to appear inevitable.
These would not be revelations - they would be operations. OPS are the delivery system for the new Reset. To recognise them as such is to break the spell before it is cast.
Yet, as far as I can read the evidence - reconstituted into what I believe is the most rational and data-based framework - the picture, when viewed without the alien filter, points back to Orion and the stellar-scientific grammar of myth: gods as ratios, cycles, and fields, not visitors from space.
The Nature of Truth
Every data point in reality carries a spectrum of potential interpretations. One is true. The rest are possible readings - plausible when isolated, but false when seen in full context. Only perspective, context, and alignment with nature allow us to discern which interpretation corresponds to truth.
Manipulators understand this. Their intent is not to invent an entirely new world, but to bias every data point toward an improbable interpretation, then stitch those distortions into a coherent narrative. The Bible is a prime example. It presents a massive dataset - observations of nature, memory of history, symbolic encodings - yet every one is inverted, omitted, or reinterpreted. The result is a consistent system, but one based on untruths. Only the authors and their inheritors knew the code of inversion; the masses were left hypnotised, taking fiction for fact.
This is how perception control works. When everything the majority believes to be true is in fact false, total control is achieved. A society may not require perfect hypnosis - only a majority convinced enough to enforce conformity. Once consensus embraces the inversion, dissenters are powerless. History shows this again and again: after a reset, dissenters either conform or are removed.
The mechanism is always the same: replace epistemological truth - that which is real because it exists in nature - with alternative pseudo-truths. Repeat them, reinforce them, and gain majority assent. Once the majority embraces them, the reset is complete.
The masses have no natural frame of reference left; their lenses have been replaced. Everything is seen through a glass refocused into another picture. All theories may appear valid, but for each data point only one truth exists. If every dot is misframed, then when joined, they form an entire worldview that is false - and a mind may live an entire life inside fiction.
The ancients understood truth differently. Plato, and before him the Egyptians, defined truth and morality as inherent in nature. Truth is that which is. Order and chaos both exist, but morality is the alignment that brings harmony, life, and balance. Amorality, by contrast, disrupts harmony - whether through ignorance or deliberate action for private benefit at the expense of unity.
Truth is not chosen by theory or majority vote. It is not ‘constructed.’ It is revealed by nature itself. To live by truth is to live in accord with what is real, what sustains, what harmonises. To overwrite that truth with pseudo-truths is the essence of the reset mechanism - the tool by which elites maintain power and control.
Information Control and Cognitive Dissonance
To control the masses requires control of information. Today this is built into the very fabric of life: almost everyone has the ‘official narrative’ pumped into their awareness constantly. Yet complete saturation is not enough. To reset perception, an alternative is required - one that destabilises certainty.
The mechanism is simple. Pictures that do not match words. Contradictory accounts of the same event. Stories reported with subtle inconsistencies. Each leaves space for reinterpretation. Each undermines confidence in what seemed certain.
This is how history is rewritten. Anchors of certainty are reframed into states of doubt. Sudden shifts, reversals, and contradictions generate confusion. The effect is not merely a bias towards one unnatural interpretation, but the deliberate production of cognitive dissonance - a psychological dissociation.
Once people are de-anchored from certainty and dropped into a nebulous half-awareness, they are primed for hypnosis. Group conformity amplifies the effect: nobody wants to be the outlier in a climate of confusion. In this state, reprogramming becomes easy. Present the new set of dots, however artificial, and connect them into a narrative. The masses grasp at it because it restores an anchor. The comfort of unity, or simply the majority’s agreement, becomes more persuasive than the data itself.
The cycle then becomes self-reinforcing. Feedback loops - media repetition, peer approval, algorithmic feeds - amplify the new frame until it feels inevitable. The dissociation is forgotten, and the false narrative becomes the new baseline of ‘truth.’
Crisis as Catalyst
Resets are made easiest when crisis strikes. A crisis that appears to affect everyone equally creates the perfect trigger: the surrender of certainty, reason, and logic to anything that promises safety.
A shared crisis generates an immediate existential problem. Societies are encouraged to pull together ‘for the greater good’ - even if that means submitting to tyranny in the short term. Yet measures imposed during emergencies are rarely rolled back once the crisis passes. What was exceptional becomes permanent.
The sequence is simple:
1. Create or emphasise a crisis.
2. Destabilise. Fear, confusion, and uncertainty spread.
3. Gain mass consent. Even if a minority resist, the reset is effective.
4. Offer the solution. Restore order with a new framework.
Fear is the great motivator for relinquishing individual sovereignty. Covid exemplified this. In Orwell’s 1984, it was the threat of Goldstein. In every reset, the perception of existential danger is enough. The crisis does not have to exist - only to be believed.
Primed by dissociation and hypnosis, the masses seek safety in unity. Freedoms are willingly surrendered. Once the fear card is played, conformity follows. If the pre-crisis state is not restored but replaced with a new order, the reset is complete. Within one or two generations, the past is forgotten. The new ‘truth’ becomes the dominant interpretation.
This is how all great resets have functioned. The Bible and the Romans wiped memory of older cosmologies and installed a new operating system - a theoretical framework for nature that was denatured.
Each reset is, at root, a mass conversion: from one truth to another. Typically, the ‘new truth’ is untrue in whole, but it is believed wholeheartedly, because the data that might contradict it is erased. Memory itself has been overwritten.
Fringe Theories and the Risk of Reprogramming
The overriding theory in the alternative canon is that catastrophe already happened. The Atlantean reinterpretation, Ice Age theories, and the writings of Velikovsky all repeat the same structure: we were once greater, more advanced, but the crisis came - the Flood - and we forgot. Trauma affects memory, causes amnesia - and on a global scale catastrophic trauma erases memory wholesale.
Hancock frames it clearly. Around 10,000 BCE, he says, civilisation was reset by catastrophe. The Bible states the same through Noah’s flood. Velikovsky, in his own way, argued similarly. The story is consistent: we knew, we forgot, and now we must recover what was lost by piecing together the scattered clues of the past.
But herein lies the danger. If we merely reframe and re-categorise the clues - the dots - without discerning the proper perspective, they can be reassembled into a programme for the next reset. In the wrong hands, anomalies and myths become not a recovery of truth, but a manual for reprogramming.
This is not to dismiss Hancock or others wholesale. Many, if not most, of their insights are valuable. The caution is that such frameworks can be co-opted by those with mal-intent.
The mechanism is the same as in other fringe theories. Flat earth cosmology, for example, is completely convincing within its own logic, because every dissenting data point is restructured into an internally consistent ‘uber theory.’ Similarly, today’s claim that ‘viruses do not exist’ is becoming more refined, backed by apparent ‘proofs.’ Yet the daily experience of infection - which aligns with viral theory and evidence - cannot be erased. Reality resists.
There is always a key, and that key is perspective. Logic and continuity with observation of what exists, and what is actually evidenced, remain the final measure. Theories that erase or invert experience collapse when tested against reality.
The danger is when the majority insists on adopting an alternative ‘truth.’ In that moment, individuals - even if they hold definitive proof - become heretics. Resets depend on this: the inversion of truth into consensus, enforced not by evidence but by numbers.
We now live in an age where all data can be faked convincingly - even filmed documentary evidence. We trust our eyes and ears, yet both can be deceived. We make sense of life by joining dots ourselves, or by appealing to authority, accepting as true whatever is claimed to be.
To understand this, we must see religion not merely as a set of spiritual or moral beliefs. Historically, ‘religion’ was a tool imposed to define history, science, and morality all at once. It was all-pervasive, woven into daily observance, not simply a weekly trip to church. It was not just belief, but a cultic agreement on what counted as truth.
Science, politics, and ideology can all become religion if they are cultified. Truth is no guarantee of safety; falsehood can be enthroned by consensus.
The Bible itself was such a reset. Written, imposed, and enforced by Rome, it defined history, morality, and science in one sweep. In the book of Romans, the empire declares itself God’s chosen instrument: obey the Romans, for they are God’s agents. Whatever they demand, give. Whatever they command, do. Willingly, or face punishment.
This was religion as the architecture of reset. Rome erased memory and culture wholesale, replacing it with a single narrative, imposed through crisis, fear, and force. The Bible defined the past, dictated morality, and redefined science. It was believed as truth, but in reality was false. Cui bono? The Romans - and when their armies waned, their inheritors, the Church.
The hubris is crystallised in Pilate’s question: ‘What is truth?’ - asked of the very figure Rome itself had constructed as Truth Incarnate. In the Roman telling, it is not the empire that kills God, but the Jews. Rome is blameless; Rome becomes the new Israelite priesthood; the Flavians become the messiah; the Church the administrator of divine order. They wrote themselves into salvation history as God’s chosen rulers.
This is how resets work: mass hypnosis through religion, whether theological, scientific, or ideological. And the warning is clear: we must not fall for the same method again.
Both the Church and thinkers such as Marx have defined the necessity of religion as an inherent existential need in humanity. It endorses the concept that people must have a fictional worldview to exist in peace and meaningfulness. The Church, infamous for its ‘pious lies,’ justified them as necessary to bring people closer to God. Marx repeated the propaganda. Though often used to support the idea of religion as a tool of control, Marx actually implies that the opiate is necessary - just as the Church does:
‘The foundation of irreligious criticism is: Man makes religion, religion does not make man. Religion is, indeed, the self-consciousness and self-esteem of man who has either not yet won through to himself, or has already lost himself again… Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people… The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is the demand for their real happiness. To call on them to give up their illusions about their condition is to call on them to give up a condition that requires illusions.’
- Marx, Introduction to A Contribution to the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right
The Church - and many commentators since - have repeated the line attributed to Augustine: ‘The truth is like a lion; you don’t have to defend it. Let it loose, it will defend itself.’ But what did Augustine mean by ‘truth’? Not reality, not Maʿat, not what is - he meant the Bible. He meant the Roman rewrite, the Flavian fiction, the imposed scripture of empire.
The phrase is not profound. It is weaponised propaganda. In a world where Rome had already imposed its book as law, creed, and science, to say ‘the truth will defend itself’ was absurd. The ‘truth’ Augustine referred to had been defended by armies, imposed by fear, maintained by hypnosis.
What pseudo-Augustine really meant was: free the weaponised lie that has already been forced into every mind, and it will perpetuate itself. It will defend itself because it has become the only framework available. Competing memories had been burned, rival scriptures destroyed, indigenous traditions outlawed. Of course it defended itself - because it had already been enthroned by coercion.
This is the true power of the opiate: under its influence, what would normally offend or cause pain is tolerated. What would normally contradict reason is lived and normalised.
Opiate intoxication is akin to the shamanic experience under entheogenic DMT - producing visions that bring clarity and symbolic meaning to the shaman, insights that can be carried back to solve real-world problems. Opium, however, though it induces altered states, visions, or hallucinations, does not bring clarity or truth. This is why opium became a tool of conquest for empires: it numbs, addicts, and reduces resistance to programming, enabling the hypnotic effect.
Visions induced that would normally be counter to logic become lived and normalised realities under its influence. And when the stupor fades, what remains? Not insight or truth, but hallucination and confusion. The ‘antidote’ is simply to return to the drug - to re-immerse in the comfort blanket, to become addicted not merely by choice or philosophy, but biochemically.
The opiate makes false perception preferable. It renders the intolerable tolerable, not by changing reality but by altering consciousness. It normalises the unnatural. And it induces amnesia - the past is forgotten, reality itself erased.
The entire pseudo-Augustine quotation is itself a perfect example of falsity, commonly believed true simply through repetition until it becomes hypnosis. Its provenance lies in control and manipulation, not wisdom. There is no evidence in Augustine’s writings that he ever said it. It is another belief, likely inserted deliberately by propagandists to amplify hypnosis.
The one-liner, the headline, the summary - that is often all it takes for people to believe. The conditioned mind does the rest. Most will read only the conclusion or the takeaway, never examining the data itself to see whether it truly supports the claim.
Ease and speed dominate today’s media-led, snapshot society: scrolling, glancing, and superficial consumption abound. Everything goes in; very little is sifted for falsity. Dots are presented en masse, the human mind connects them in the way intended, and the person believes the conclusion is their own.
This is subliminal programming. It works subconsciously: through neuro-linguistic cues, repetition, saturation of consensus narrative, and constant reinforcement. The field itself becomes hypnotic, and the human subject thinks they are reasoning - when in fact they are being steered.
Thus mass-perceived truth may be entirely contrary to both evidence and accepted scientific knowledge. Everyone ‘knows,’ for example, that apocalypse means catastrophe. But it does not - it means revelation. Everyone ‘knows’ that vaccines are safe, effective, and can prevent transmission of respiratory infections. Yet medical science itself shows otherwise: airborne viruses infect regardless of vaccination, and vaccines have never been universally proven safe, nor nearly as effective as their marketing claims. Everyone ‘knows’ Jesus was a Jew. Yet the evidence shows he was not even a man, but a constructed figure.
These are just a few examples of how mass perception, once repeated often enough, is massaged into mass consensus - whether or not the official scientific record even supports it. If the ants believe it, they will conform accordingly.
This is the essence of the reset: replace reality with an imposed fiction, erase alternatives, then declare the fiction ‘truth.’ Once embedded, the lie sustains itself - not because it is strong, but because nothing else remains in memory.
Truth is not like a lion that will defend itself if set free - that is the Church’s lie. In reality, truth must be defended, repeated, and reasserted against error.
As Goethe warned:
‘Truth has to be repeated constantly, because Error also is being preached all the time, and not just by a few, but by the multitude. In the Press and Encyclopaedias, in Schools and Universities, everywhere Error holds sway, feeling happy and comfortable in the knowledge of having Majority on its side.’
Return of the Storm God - Appendix III: Fringe Catastrophist Theories
Alternative Theories regarding Cataclysmic Events between c. 11,000 and 9000 BCE