The Return Of The Storm God - Chapter 9a
The Eastward Drift of Culture – and the Evidence the Consensus Ignores
Introduction
This chapter presents an attempt to reconstruct the cosmology of the Storm God as it entered early China - not as an isolated or indigenous development, but as the eastern culmination of the same system transmitted through Mesopotamia, Egypt, Elam, Persia, and pre-Celtic Europe. The evidence spans architecture, glyph systems, sacred geometry, astronomical mapping, linguistic transformations, numerical patterns, and theological naming conventions. It is presented here as structurally consistent and evidentially supported.
The central contention is that early Chinese cosmology, ritual logic, language, and architecture reflect a dual transmission of sacred knowledge: one stream emerging from the goddess-centred, ratio-based systems of Egypt and Elam, and the other from the later codified patriarchal sky-law traditions of Babylon and Vanic Persia. These traditions merged with existing local forms to produce a composite Chinese system -one in which the goddess was partially retained, though subordinated beneath square-based hierarchies, fixed nomenclature, and the concept of Heaven’s mandate.
China occupies an astronomical position - common to all near-equatorial cultures - in which both northern and southern skies are visible. While China, due to its latitude, traditionally focused on the northern sky, many constellations near the southern celestial pole remain partially visible. Ancient Chinese astronomy emphasised the northern, eastern, and western skies, with the southern sky playing a much less prominent role in their mapped constellations and cosmological systems. Nevertheless, it is reasonable to assume that Chinese mythological structures incorporate archetypal material derived from both celestial domains.
The exemplary scholar Gerald Massey proposed that the presence of southern star lore within northern systems was the consequence of inherited memory - carried through humanity’s gradual northern drift from Africa. While this perspective attributes great longevity to mythic transmission, the present argument holds that such dual-sky awareness is better evidenced as a product of later cultural development in regions where both celestial hemispheres could be directly observed. In such contexts, dual-hemisphere cosmologies were encoded not through deep ancestral memory alone, but through concurrent observation-informing mythology, mathematical and architectural systems, and written or inscribed expressions.
This work does not propose that Chinese culture arose solely through northern and western migration; rather, it argues that multiple lineages merged, interacted, and co-created - as occurred throughout the broader Drift pattern. What follows is an exploration of the symbolic, structural, and linguistic evidence for that convergence. While some of these connections remain speculative, others are well-supported. All, however, warrant examination as potential remnants of an earlier, unified cosmological system.
As a peripheral zone to the core Drift regions of Mesopotamia, Egypt, and Europe, China exhibits less overt survivals of the older symbolic structures. The evidence is more diffuse, more transformed by time, and more susceptible to later overlay. For this reason, the following sections necessarily engage with derivations, etymological speculation, and symbolic correspondences that may not always yield firm conclusions. Where available, stronger material evidence will be presented. It is hoped that future scholarship may help to confirm, refine, or replace some of the tentative interpretations offered here.
Before we turn eastwards to China, we must explore and reconstruct from the evidence the original architecture that we see also in Chinese culture. Otherwise, it remains hidden and reclassified, largely unrecognised. Egypt does not emerge in China according to the mainstream view, but we shall show the evidence for it.
Some of the later discussion will move beyond presentation of data into commentary on how and why such continuities have been obscured or reinterpreted. This is not to depart from evidence, but to acknowledge that the way knowledge is transmitted - or withheld - is itself part of the historical record.
Academic consensus on Western cultural contact with China
Mainstream scholarship currently holds that direct influence from Western (Near Eastern or European) cultures into China before the late 2nd millennium BCE is unlikely. The most significant early west–east exchanges into Chinese territory are thought to have occurred much later, via steppe and Central Asian intermediaries.
Chronological framework
• Neolithic China (c. 7000–2000 BCE) - Yangshao, Longshan, and related cultures are viewed as locally developed, though some scholars note very early cereal and metallurgical inputs from the west via Central Asia.
• Bronze Age (c. 2000–771 BCE) - Early bronze metallurgy in the north-west (Qijia culture, c. 2200–1600 BCE) is widely thought to reflect steppe–Central Asian influence. Horse domestication, chariot technology, and certain weapon and ornament forms appear by the late 2nd millennium BCE, most likely via this route.
• First long-distance exchange routes - No evidence exists for sustained ‘Silk Road’ traffic before the late 1st millennium BCE, but archaeologists recognise a ‘Steppe Highway’ of cultures (Afanasievo, Andronovo, Seima–Turbino) transmitting materials and techniques eastward in the 3rd–2nd millennia BCE.
• Silk Road emergence (c. 2nd century BCE) - Under the Han dynasty, after Zhang Qian’s missions (138–126 BCE), formalised overland routes linked China to Central Asia and, indirectly, to the Mediterranean. Goods (silk, jade, glassware, metalwork), crops (grapes, alfalfa), and ideas (including Buddhism, later) moved along these networks.
Routes and mechanisms
• Steppe corridor - Through the Altai, Dzungarian Basin, and Gansu Corridor into the Chinese Loess Plateau.
• Oasis chain - Across the Tarim Basin via the Taklamakan’s northern and southern routes.
• Maritime exchanges - Limited indirect contact via South and Southeast Asia, with goods moving by coastal shipping into southern China.
Consensus position
• No direct movement of people or institutions from the ancient Near East or Europe into central China before the late Bronze Age; influence is assumed to be mediated through multiple Central Asian intermediaries.
• Material evidence supports intermittent, small-scale exchanges (metal types, ornament styles, some crops and animals) from the west into Chinese cultures prior to the Han, but not wholesale transfer of symbolic systems or writing.
• Han-era Silk Road is the first sustained, documented conduit for large-scale contact.
Early scholars and the Drift Culture model
Several early researchers broke new ground in exploring what I call Drift Culture - the eastward spread of symbolic, religious, and linguistic forms from the ancient Near East. L. A. Waddell and Gerald Massey were central to this work, with later comparative mythologists such as Acharya S (D. M. Murdock) expanding their insights.
L. A. Waddell developed a diffusionist model with two principal transmission streams from West to East. The first was a southern maritime route, by which Sumerian–Hittite elites moved from the Syrian coast and Asia Minor through India - especially the Ganges Valley - and into Southeast Asia by at least the 7th century BCE. These Indo-Aryan groups, he argued, carried not only linguistic material but also systems of kingship, priestly ritual, solar calendrical reckoning, and coinage. Waddell identified Indo-Aryan traders and religious elites settling along the coastlines of Indo-China and southern China in colonies such as Lang-ga, where they founded cities, named rivers, and established royal systems preserving Mesopotamian and Egyptian nomenclature.
The second stream was an overland corridor extending from the Armenian Van region across Bactria into the Tibetan plateau and eventually northern China. Through this route, Waddell traced the transfer of divine titles such as Sar, Asar, Kur, and Tur, arguing that early Chinese imperial and priestly titles derived structurally from Mesopotamia and Sumer. He also claimed that left-to-right alphabets in early Indo-China, Japan, and Korea were derived not from Chinese logographs but from Indo-Aryan systems descending from West Semitic forms. While he did not detail Egyptian influence in China, he linked all major civilisation-building forces to a combined Sumerian–Egyptian origin - his ‘Sumer-Aryan’ synthesis.
D. A. MacKenzie - now largely forgotten outside specialist circles - was one of the most perceptive early 20th-century scholars of comparative mythology and ancient Near Eastern studies. His encyclopaedic approach allowed him to draw connections between Sumerian, Babylonian, Egyptian, and Indo-European systems without being confined to a single linguistic or archaeological discipline. MacKenzie was among the first to clearly set out the structural parallels between Mesopotamian creation epics and those of neighbouring cultures, noting how deities, flood narratives, and cosmic order myths reappeared in varying local forms but retained their underlying symbolic architecture.
His work is particularly valuable for the present study because he treated these parallels not as isolated ‘influences,’ but as survivals from an older, unified mythic framework. In tracing how titles, divine epithets, and cosmological schemata shifted between cultures, MacKenzie preserved details - such as phonetic variants of god-names and the persistence of sacred number-sets - that later scholarship often ignored. These insights feed directly into the Drift Culture model used here, where patterns of naming, ritual sequence, and cosmological diagram are understood as part of a continuous transmission stretching from Egypt and Mesopotamia to the Far East.
Gerald Massey focused entirely on Egypt, yet his work is still pivotal for understanding symbolic transmission eastward. He argued that the fundamental religious types - divine son, crucified saviour, virgin birth, resurrection, judgment of souls - did not originate with Christianity but were already complete in Egyptian mythos, particularly through Horus and Osiris. For Massey, Horus appeared in two forms: the child, representing the winter solstice rebirth of the sun, and the adult solar hero who vanquishes Set to restore cosmic order. Osiris was the archetype of the dead and resurrected king. Massey maintained that these motifs were transmitted to other systems through cultural diffusion. While he did not address China directly, the logic of his analysis - especially his treatment of recurring symbolic triads such as Hu (utterance), Sia (insight), and Djed (stability) - is applicable to wider Asian contexts.
He also held that the sacred calendar based on Sirius and the Nile cycle underpinned Egyptian religious time and reappeared in Sumerian, Vedic, and even Mesoamerican calendars. Central to his thesis was the continuity of goddess figures such as Isis into later manifestations - Maya, Ma, Sophia - all expressing the archetypal life-giving, mourning, and restoring feminine.
Acharya S (D. M. Murdock) approached these parallels through comparative mythology, with particular emphasis on Krishna as a pre-Christian typological forerunner of Jesus. She documented Krishna’s virgin birth from Devaki, the prophecy foretelling it, the ensuing massacre of infants by a jealous ruler, his childhood miracles, his role as Logos-instructor to Arjuna, and his death beneath a tree from a fatal wound - paralleling the crucifixion motif. She identified Kalki, Krishna’s eschatological avatar riding a white horse with a flaming sword, as the likely prototype of the Christ figure in the Book of Revelation.
In her reconstruction, Krishna’s cult diffused westward via Phoenician and Indo-Persian trade networks by at least the 8th century BCE, where its motifs were later absorbed into Hellenistic spiritual traditions. She noted the similarity between Krishta and Christos, asserting a direct phonetic and semantic continuity between the Sanskrit and Greek terms, both carrying the sense of ‘anointed’ or ‘pure.’ Acharya also traced solar symbolism through Vishnu’s wheel and the seasonal resurrection patterns embedded in Krishna’s avataric cycle.
Krishna and KRST – the drift of the completion
The transformation from krst to Krishna shows a probable pathway by which an older name-form was adapted to a new phonological environment while retaining its symbolic structure. In the Egyptian krst, the final st is more than a grammatical ending: it is the mark of completion – the field principle enclosing and anointing the axis denoted by kr. Across West Semitic, this same completion appears in forms such as Aset/Ast, Ishtar, Ashtoreth, and Astarte, preserving the sibilant–stop cluster as the sign of the feminine counterpart without which the axis remains inert. In Greek christos, the t is preserved within the productive -tos ending, again binding the sense of the completed, anointed form to the name.
From krst to Christ, the kr – the corpus Osiris – is resurrected as a man made historical, and the whole word is reinterpreted as a function of the goddess. As an epithet meaning 'anointed', it is directly inverted from the feminine to the masculine form. This is not the only major inversion of a goddess into a prominent Biblical figure, as will be seen later.
In Indo-Aryan, the same type of reduction of -st- occurs through a phonology in which consonant clusters are regularly altered. Sanskrit preserves the verbal base kṛṣ- ('to plough'), from which two parallel derivatives emerge: kṛṣṭa ('ploughed, cultivated') with the full cluster, and kṛṣṇa ('dark') in which the -t is absorbed into the following nasal. This is a normal development in the language, where retroflexion and assimilation smooth such clusters. The absence of a written or sounded t in Krishna is therefore not a loss of the element, but its resolution within Indo-Aryan sound law.
The function of the completion remains. Where the Egyptian and Semitic forms display it as a terminal consonant, the Indo-Aryan form carries it through the associated goddess and sovereignty elements – Śrī as consort, the īś/īṣ of īśvara and related titles. These fulfil the same role as the -t of Aset or Ishtar, providing the anointing, crowning presence that completes the axis. In the Purāṇic and epic narratives, Krishna is never without this complement – Radha or the gopīs – enacting the same hieros gamos pattern that krst encodes in a single form. The s is frequently pronounced as 'sh' in these older cultures, as seen in modern retention in certain Scots and Liverpudlian dialects.
Thus, the completion is visible in Egyptian and Semitic, audible in Greek, and phonetically internalised in Sanskrit. The form Krishna is not a divergent creation, but a regional adaptation of the same archetype, carrying forward both the typological and etymological logic of krst.
The comparison between Jesus and Krishna, like that between Mary and Isis, is too often reduced to a checklist of later traits aimed at proving the non-originality of Jesus. In that flattening, Krishna is presented as if he emerged fully formed in the Purāṇic mould, when many of his attributes are late accretions over a far older root. Likewise, Isis is reduced to the ‘virgin mother,’ with her sexual power and generative acts erased. Such treatments miss the point: myth operates on the level of archetype, which is multidimensional, recurring in varied configurations but anchored to a deeper pattern. The correspondences are not mirror images; they are structural rhymes arising from the same source logic.
Seen in this light, krst and Krishna illustrate the broader drift - language adapting to new phonologies, archetypes reshaped by cultural context, and myths layered with new meanings while retaining their core structure.
What remains of the evidence linking Krishna and Christ is almost incidental to the case for their ancient origins. It chiefly illustrates how far they have drifted from the source, and how new forms emerge through cross-cultural exchange. Krishna clearly predates the Bible yet followed a different path. Jesus was essentially a Roman invention built on Egyptian myths already honed over hundreds of thousands of years. Krishna emerged along a parallel route but entered a culture already shaped by Western mythos in the Vedic period. These are not neat one-to-one correspondences but spirals of related ideas meeting, diverging, and re-meeting over vast spans of time.
Krishna’s earliest form was that of a hero archetype, later elevated into a major figure in his own right and eventually a closer equivalent to Jesus as an incarnate supreme being. This shows how religions become self-amplifying, favouring those aspects of the archetype that elevate one god-like form into a singular divinity. In the process, nuance is reduced or omitted, and the traits most serviceable to the worshippers are retained. One’s god is usually The God, and the most characteristic attributes of the Creator are attached to that favoured form. The more liberal adherent may recognise that each religion expresses the Omniscient and Omnipresent in its own cultural terms, while others hold to the conviction that theirs is the only true god and that all others must be false by definition.
This work does not support any suggestion that a belief is inherently wrong or bad. Only when a belief is imposed by force on others, or used to cause harm to people or to Nature, does it become the subject of polemic. There are many beliefs and many paths; individual sovereignty and freedom of choice are fundamental. Yet throughout this book we have seen too many examples in which past figures appear to have deliberately distorted existing myths for their own purposes. There is also considerable scope for error through mistranslation or misinterpretation. It is therefore vital to question and examine belief systems in order to distinguish between their authentic and their distorted elements.
If a religion or a nation should take an error - or a deliberate deception - as a foundational truth, then impose it upon others while denying any possibility that their founders were capable of error or manipulation, the results can be disastrous, as history has repeatedly shown.
Open and respectful disagreement should be encouraged, whether or not it leads to resolution or a change in belief. There is an existential imperative: we are all human, and we must share this planet. To find harmony and co-operation with one another is the only way to prevent the cycles of abuse, harm, and horror that can become multigenerational causes for yet more abuse, horror, and war. Such resolution deserves our best efforts.
It is in this spirit that we examine the evidence and present a case which may, or may not, persuade those with firmly entrenched beliefs - some of which may seem unconscionable to one person and entirely reasonable to another.
Just as the krst archetype can be traced through shifts in language, form, and gender across the Drift Culture pathways, so too can we observe other cases where the axis once bound to a goddess was re-cast in masculine form - a transformation with profound implications for belief, power, and the shaping of whole cultures.
Goddess to God – another case of direct gender appropriation?
One of the most sensitive and contentious areas of this study is the possibility that foundational myths were deliberately reshaped to serve political ends - imposed on the majority by a self-appointed elite. Such a claim, especially when it challenges deeply held beliefs, can easily be taken as an offence. Yet history shows that many truths now accepted would once have been heretical, and people were persecuted for holding them.
Ideas now taught as common knowledge - such as heliocentrism - were once grounds for condemnation. The widespread agnosticism or atheism in parts of the modern West would have seemed fantastical, even dangerously subversive, in ages when religion functioned as science, history, and law, enforced by the state. For some, the very idea of questioning God or challenging the dominant religion remains anathema. For others, it is proof that the ‘anti-god’ - in whatever form imagined - has taken ascendancy, to be countered only by a return to mass fundamentalism.
In this work we have rejected Jesus as an historical person, while retaining the profound original sources behind that misperception. Fundamental insights and moral truths remain - but they call for selective reinterpretation. The aim is restoration of the original, not demolition. Close examination shows that many foundational beliefs rest on bases which the evidence available does not support.
One such figure is David of the Bible. The evidence suggests he may not have been an historical king at all, but a constructed figure - shaped as a royal archetype derived from older patterns, originally bound to a goddess or to a natural archetype, then recast as a male axis around which a new religion could form. If so, this would be another deliberate distortion, intended to unify a nation under a false pretence.
A reconstruction of David from another perspective may yield illuminating results - perhaps even ones that could unify rather than divide. That is for the reader to decide. Our task is to follow the evidence, aware that such distortions may have arisen for many reasons.
Having come this far in building the case, it would betray the spirit of our work to avoid examining data points that may prove significant - and that could help lay the foundations for a future less controlled by the few, with greater empowerment for the many, in an age when centralised power and wealth dominate the global system.
David as Duat: The Orion Typology Restored?
Consonantal structure and linguistic permissibility
In the scripts of the ancient Near East and the Nile Valley, vowels were not written. Words were recorded as consonantal skeletons, with their vocalisation supplied in speech. Names sharing the same consonants but differing in vowels can, in principle, represent the same underlying form or closely related variants.
• Egyptian Duat is written as t-w-t in consonantal hieroglyphs and, in later transcriptions, often rendered as dwꜣt.
• Hebrew David is written as d-w-d (דוד) in consonantal Hebrew.
The only difference is the initial dental: t in Egyptian, d in Hebrew. In Afroasiatic languages, including both Egyptian and Semitic, t ↔ d alternation is common and well-attested. Voicing shifts between these stops occur naturally across dialects, loanwords, and over time. Egyptologists and biblical philologists alike accept such equivalences in other name-sets when they align with their interpretive frameworks.
On this basis, t-w-t and d-w-d can legitimately be considered variant spellings of the same root, once vowels are removed from the equation. The Masoretic ‘a’ and ‘i’ in David are late additions, just as the ‘u-a’ in Duat is a scholarly convention.
Egyptian T-W-T ⇄ Hebrew D-W-D
(t ↔ d interchange + identical medial and final consonants)
The glyph and its symbolic form
In Egyptian, the Duat is not merely a word - it is a complex glyph and a cosmological concept. The term ‘Netherworld’ was Duat, often written with a pentagram star enclosed in a circle, a geometric form that encodes the golden ratio (phi) in all its proportions.
Orion is the stellar manifestation of Osiris in the Underworld; Osiris was the Lord of the Duat, which was both a water-world and an earthly realm. From the Unas Pyramid Texts:
Behold, he has come as Orion, behold, Unas has come as Sah, lord of the Duat, ruler of eternity. (Utterances 302–305)
This consonantal and symbolic alignment between David and Duat is not an isolated curiosity. It fits the broader Drift Culture pattern in which key archetypes, names, and cosmological symbols migrate across language families and religious systems, often retaining their structural form while being re-contextualised to serve new political or theological ends. The Orion–Osiris–Duat complex, central to Egyptian cosmology, reappears here reframed in Hebrew tradition as a royal figure - a shift from a goddess-linked cosmic domain to a male dynastic archetype. This is precisely the kind of gender and function inversion seen elsewhere along the transmission routes from the Nile to the Levant, and onward into later Abrahamic and imperial narratives.
If we return to our original logic - that most major archetypal geometries can be found by ‘joining the dots’ of the Orion constellation as it has appeared for hundreds of thousands of years - another observation emerges. Take the four outer stars of Orion as triangle bases and join them to the belt stars: you form a proto–Star of David, with apices meeting in the centre.
If you instead use the outer stars to form triangles pointing inward to the middle, you create a Venn-like intersection area surrounding the central star. This is not a perfect hexagram, but it is geometrically related.
From here, if we take the initial triangles and align them along their outer edges, the figure becomes a rhomboid - implying a square. This is geometry, and more specifically, sacred geometry. Within Orion’s basic seven-star formation lies a natural analogue for geometric and sacred symbols that humanity has observed - and reinterpreted - over immense spans of time.
Many occult and initiatory sciences are based on just such transformations: the conversion of squares to triangles, pyramidia to rhomboids, rotating them around varying axes and exploring their relationships through precise ratios. The Orion figure is thus not simply a stellar pattern but a template for an entire symbolic and mathematical vocabulary.
Many researchers - from archaeoastronomers to comparative mythologists - have recognised aspects of Orion’s importance. Bauval and others have shown its architectural alignments; others have traced its mythic echoes. Yet no one has yet completed the picture: the full, multifaceted and multilayered significance of Orion across history, psychology, etymology, myth, religion, geometry, mathematics, and ratio.
Orion is not merely a backdrop for myth - it is the scaffold on which the Storm God archetype was first hung, the natural geometry from which sacred forms, political symbols, and divine narratives have all been drawn. To recognise Orion’s pattern is to recover the blueprint of the system itself, the key without which the Drift Culture story cannot be unlocked.
The Astronomical Placement
In Egyptian sky-myth, the Duat is the astral underworld - the enclosed goddess-field and cosmic sea - containing Orion (Sahu), the celestial form of Osiris. Orion is depicted as a great hunter or warrior, the ‘giant’, with an upraised arm wielding a weapon - often a throwing stick or sling.
From Bauval, The Orion Mystery:
‘The Duat has grasped your hand at the place where Orion is …’ (Pyramid Text 802)
‘O king, you are this Great Star, the companion of Orion, who traverses the sky with Orion, who navigates the Duat with Osiris …’ (Pyramid Text 882)
Here the Duat is explicitly the domain of Orion.
The Typological Inversion in the Bible
In the Egyptian original:
• Duat - goddess-field, the enclosed cosmic sea, the region of Orion, the passage to rebirth.
• Orion (Sahu) - the giant–warrior, companion of Osiris, moving within the Duat.
In the biblical redaction:
• David - heroic king of Israel, patriarchal founder.
• The ‘Star of David’ - later emblem, stripped of its original Duat glyph meaning (pentagram within a circle, the phi-field) and recast as a male royal insignia (hexagram).
• David’s defining act - slaying the giant Goliath with a sling.
In the original sky-typology, the sling is Orion’s weapon - yet here Orion’s attributes are split: David is given the sling and the victory, the giant is made the adversary.
This creates a paradox: Orion, the giant, is set against Orion, the slayer. The goddess-field is erased, and her pentagram emblem rebranded as a male royal badge. In Egyptian terms, Orion’s opponent is the archetypal beast - the Taurean Bull - as in many ancient slayer myths. In biblical form, Orion/David defeats Orion/Goliath with the same archetypal sling.
The Pleiades as Projectile
In our Primary Nexus, Orion, Taurus, and the Pleiades are bound together. In the constellation pattern, the Pleiades appear as the projectile - the ‘stone’ - hurled toward the beast, forming the Mjolnir shape: the weapon of Thor/Ar-Tor as Orion, the original Storm God.
Jupiter, as Ptah, is the All-Seeing Eye of ‘Father/Pater God’ overseeing the whole. This is almost certainly the image in Zechariah’s ‘stone with seven eyes’ - the seven stars of the Pleiades. The stone from Orion’s sling is the same as Thor’s Mjolnir in northern tradition.
Just as the Church writers reworked Irish legends, so too did missionaries shape the Eddic and Arthurian cycles, embedding the same structural motifs.
Any detective will tell you: when the same fingerprints appear at multiple scenes, with the same modus operandi and continuity of detail, the bearers of those fingerprints become the prime suspects.
Why consensus blocks the identification
Despite the consonantal match, the accepted t ↔ d interchange, the glyph continuity, and the identical astronomical context, mainstream scholarship does not equate David with Duat - nor even acknowledge the obvious etymological form of dwd as Duat - because:
Scholarly and political implications:
• It would directly link Israelite royal myth to Egyptian cosmology.
• It would expose the biblical account as a redaction and distortion of an older archetype.
• It would reveal that a central biblical hero’s name and typology originate in a goddess-centred axis–field cosmology - precisely what the biblical editors aimed to erase.
Societal consequences:
• It would dismantle any perceived authority assumed by religion, the Bible itself, and those who lead its institutions.
• It could trigger a revolution in public consciousness, unifying rather than dividing - ending persecution and occupation rooted in religious misperceptions, erasing elitism, racism, and misogyny inherent in those systems. With mutual respect, we could seek harmony and peace rather than perpetuating the cycles of bigotry, slaughter, and war. By respecting each other, refusing subservience in a globalist feudal order, and living in balance with Nature, we may yet preserve our Mother rather than exhausting her beyond recovery.
The Editorial Motive
The shift from Duat to David is not random - it serves to:
1. Remove the goddess-field from public theology (no Isis, no Ma’at, no Wadjet).
2. Retain the axis-form (Orion’s sling, the king as warrior).
3. Replace the emblem (hexagram) as a patriarchal symbol, then demonise the pentagram as a mark of ‘satanic witchcraft’.
4. Invert the typology - Orion, once the companion within the Duat, becomes both the adversary to be slain and the slayer himself.
5. Create a forerunner for Jesus as the ‘new David’ - the branch of Jesse - the iusa, the ‘coming son’, an epithet of Atum as well as Imhotep, son of the Great Craftsman Ptah (recast as Joseph in the Gospel redaction). Jesus, as shown earlier, is the risen Osiris as Horus, translated directly from the Egyptian Ritual.
This is the same suppression mechanism seen elsewhere:
• Tav as the Tau-cross mark without the serpent/ratio. Tav/Dav - Orion as the djed-axis without the balancing principle of Isis/Ma’at.
• The temple-building of Solomon (a replay of pyramid building under Khufu, the mejedu) without the goddess Seshat and her cord to complete Ma’at in physical form using ‘the stone of the builder’ - the precursor to the Gospel’s ‘cornerstone’ metaphor. In this frame, Jesus as Christ (‘the goddess anointment’) is essentially David reincarnated as the new anointed messiah.
The identification of David as Duat is linguistically permissible, symbolically coherent, and astronomically exact to the Egyptian texts and ritual. The biblical figure retains the axis-form and emblem as king but loses the goddess-field and proportional logic. The inversion is deliberate: yet more evidence of conscious redaction to remove the feminine half of the cosmology, leaving a masculine-only myth fit for centralised, patriarchal religion.
Even the hexagram preserves the meaning of ‘on Earth as it is in heaven’ from the Lord’s Prayer. In astronomy, ‘heaven’ is ‘the heavens’; in Egyptian ritual it is the end-point of the soul’s journey from the Duat - the underworld beneath the earth - to rebirth. The ‘bread’ of that prayer is the gift of the grain-god form of Orion, symbolised by the bread-glyph - the feminine ‘t’ - raised by the breath of Hu: Atum’s risen form and seed-breath, the life-word given by Atum through the Iusaaset goddess function.
With the linguistic, symbolic, and astronomical case established, we can now turn to the physical evidence most often cited for a historical David - the Tel Dan stele - and examine whether it supports the consensus view or reveals the same pattern of redaction and reinterpretation.
The Tel Dan Stele and the Myth of a Historical David
The Tel Dan stele is the sole archaeological artefact ever cited as direct evidence for a historical King David. Dating to the 9th century BCE and inscribed in Aramaic, it is a victory monument most likely commissioned by King Hazael of Damascus after defeating Israel and Judah.
The surviving text reads in part:
‘… I killed Jehoram son of Ahab king of Israel, and I killed Ahaziah son of Jehoram king of the bytdwd …’
The Problem of bytdwd
The phrase bytdwd is conventionally rendered as ‘House of David’:
• byt = ‘house,’ meaning dynasty.
• dwd = ‘David,’ understood as the personal name of the founder of Judah’s royal line.
This is an interpretive leap. In early Semitic scripts:
• No vowels are written.
• There are no word dividers.
• Multiple readings are plausible.
dwd could mean:
• ‘Beloved’ (a common Semitic epithet)
• A cultic or dynastic title
• An archaic theonym
• A geographic or cultural designation
• Or, as in Egyptian-linked readings, a loan from duat - the underworld or cosmic axis - used as a royal or priestly designation.
The Euhemerist Trap
Euhemerism - the belief that gods, myths, and archetypes are exaggerated accounts of real historical figures - was the default mode of much 19th– and early 20th–century scholarship. In this frame, a phrase like ‘House of Duat’ becomes ‘House of David’, and a title becomes a biography.
This reflex underlies the biblical royal narrative: mythic offices and archetypes are recast as the reigns of named men, granting divine legitimacy to political regimes and defining racial identities. Even perceptive scholars such as L. A. Waddell often fell into this trap, reading any echo of a name as evidence for a historical person.
House of Duat – Cultural Lineage, Not Personal Name
Read as ‘House of Duat,’ the term signifies a dynastic or cultic identity rooted in Egyptian mortuary–cosmic kingship ideology. It could denote a people identifying with the axis–goddess complex of Isis, Orion, and Osiris - just as ‘Kurgan’ refers to a burial-mound culture rather than to an individual founder.
The same pattern occurs elsewhere: ‘People of Ar-Tor’ in Anatolia could later be reimagined as followers of a historical King Arthur, even if no such man ever lived in Dark Age Britain.
No Historical David Required
There is:
• No archaeological evidence for Saul.
• Only one ambiguous inscription for David - open to multiple readings.
• No evidence for Solomon outside of biblical text.
The Tel Dan stele supports, at most, a dynasty or cult using the dwd/duat designation. It does not require - or even strongly imply - the existence of a historical David. The biblical royal house rests on a single word in a damaged inscription, interpreted through euhemerism. Remove that assumption, and the ‘David’ of history dissolves back into the archetypal axis-king - a role seen across the Near East.
He is the Storm God resurrected and fitted into a political manifesto.
A Trinity of Kings - a Triune of Axes
David assumes kingship - lugalship - from Saul, emerging as the new axis-king of the tribe. As Orion, he slays the beast-enemy Goliath as a young man and becomes the elder king, just as Horus becomes Orion after defeating Set in the 'underworld' on the daily horizon-to-horizon journey of the sun. This duality is typical of Egyptian cosmology - the constant reciprocation of light and dark, male and female - a balance ruptured in the biblical redaction.
On David's death, it is his son - another Horus-sun god figure - Solomon, who takes up the mantle as the new djed-axis king. Every root of his name encodes the solar archetype:
• Sol (Latin/Indo-European) = sun.
• Om (Semitic/Akkadian/Indic) = sun/creative utterance.
• On (Egyptian Iunu, Greek Heliopolis) = 'City of the Sun'; also in Babyl-on - 'Gate of the Sun'.
These figures are not 'ancient' in the sense the Bible suggests. The David-Goliath-Saul-Solomon cycle was constructed after Josiah's Deuteronomist reforms, inside the framework of a new Yahwistic theocracy. It was retrofitted as if it had happened generations earlier, giving the illusion of a deep national history.
Deuteronomy came first - the law code, the centralised temple cult, the erasure of the goddess. The myths came later, dressed as history to sanctify the reforms. This is why the narrative runs from Genesis to Kings as if it were a linear chronicle, when in truth much of it was conceived backwards - starting from the political-religious needs of the post-exilic elite and working in reverse to create a past that would justify their present.
When Rome later took control, the same method was extended. The 'prophecies' of the Old Testament were not fulfilled by Jesus - they were written or reshaped after the fact, so that the Gospels and the OT would interlock seamlessly. The Roman messiah was built into the earlier text to give the appearance of divine continuity, while absorbing Judaic codes into an imperial religion.
In Babylon, the cult of Inanna and her gala priests was firmly established. Inanna was the guardian of the gates and the sojourner in the underworld; at each station she was unclothed - revealed.
Goliath retains the origin of this archetype in his name and root forms. Gol is a variant of gal/gala, a hydronym linked to the Heavens as the Great Mother salty sea - the Queen of Heaven - which 'on earth' transforms into the Babylonian underworld or the Egyptian Duat. On Earth, this becomes the realm of the sweet waters of the Abzu, domain of Ea - a variant of which is retained in Gol-ia-th, or as Ya in Golyath. The Abzu of the Sumero-Babylonians - the sweet water (more anciently still likely referring to the spring and well around which a tribe would settle) - is consonant with Nun in Egyptian cosmology. The 'nunny' underworld is equated with the tuat/twat, later acquiring more vulgar forms.
This is the 'gate' archetype - the entry in which the seed is planted and the word is uttered, and the emergent gate of the newly born, imbued with the breath of life, 'from the waters'. The 'waters' are the gal or gol. The hydronym gal in the theanonym lugal is the feminine element relating to the waters or to milk, forming later derivatives such as galaxy and 'Milky Way' through the Greek form. This hydronym re-emerges later in Biblical words such as Galilee, Golgotha and Gilgul. Each a derivative of the typology relating to water or the rising form, harking back to the djed/benben from NUN, or lingam/yoni type. The fish in Galilee were the stars in the sea of night, the Gilgul a ring of raised stones to form the axis, and Golgotha was a hill upon which the axis is transformed through ascension. Jesus walking 'on the water' of Galilee an extension of the natural observation and simple reference to light glinting on the serpentine waves of water.
In Hebrew, gala means 'to uncover' or 'to expose'. This directly parallels the Inanna myth as the goddess who becomes exposed as she descends into the underworld sea. She is the sojourner into exile - and this 'sojourner' root is also given officially as a possible root for the name Goliath. Here again, the goddess is concealed, and the masculine form is retained.
We have not once veered from our continuous mythic thread from Sumeria to Egypt: the god/goddess function, and the etymological forms remain intact. Only the biblical redactors have ruptured these ancient archetypes, appropriating and reshaping them into a political theology that claims divine authority for the exclusively male caste which rewrote the oldest myths into a new, patriarchal form.
The names Egypt and Babylon would become synonymous in the Bible with captivity and hardship, their gods and goddesses thoroughly demonised. The portrayal of Egypt as the origin of Israel's bondage is likely a retrofitting of the Babylonian Captivity onto Egypt within biblical typology. The Bible began to take shape after the return of the Judahites to Jerusalem, where the social structure was reshaped around an elite caste of men who formalised it into their belief system, having first appropriated the gods and goddesses of Egypt and Babylon.
In this process, the feminine forms were demonised - recast as harlots or embodiments of evil - while the masculine forms were retained, and the men assumed the role of the dominant lawgiving priesthood. It was at this time that the Deuteronomist writings emerged, expressing a divine legal system entirely controlled by this priestly caste, acting as lugals of their new composite god, Yahweh.
Josiah's reforms to purge Jerusalem of pagan deities and centralise all worship in the Temple at Jerusalem involved a process of social reforms that have remained in Judaic culture and belief. This was the stage of the beginning of the cover-up of the pagan origins of what later appeared in the Bible. Even the name Josiah encodes the Egyptian Io/IU with Sia, the goddess of perception. Josiah is now the new axis between Hu and Sia, and continues the process of redacting all goddess from Judahite culture. Jerusalem became a theocracy and became based upon racial purity, with a male only rulership under a king and eventually a priestly class that was entirely dominant over the people of Judea.
The ancient IU forms - those who sojourned in the Duat of Amenta to become 'justified' and one with Ra according to Ma'at - had now become the 'Jews': a separatist tribe chosen by Yahweh to rule the material earth in his name. With all other races seen as subservient to the one chosen by God. The mythic gods, originally symbolic of Nature and of astronomical observance within astrotheology, had been recast as historical ancestors of this chosen tribe. Any of the ancient gods who did not serve the vested interests were either ignored or demonised. Some were converted into angels or archangels.
For a minority often conquered and oppressed by the very cultures whose myths they had appropriated, this transformation created a God who was 'jealous' and 'vengeful' - a lord whose pattern has been preserved for thousands of years in the Bible-based religions. The typical outcome accompanied it: the denigration of the goddess, and the suppression of women in general, presented as divinely ordained subservience to the male.
The result is a unified but artificial chronology: Egyptian, Babylonian and astrotheological archetypes re-clothed as Israelite kings and heroes; a legal code elevated to divine law; a Roman saviour retroactively 'foretold' in a scripture that had been engineered to point toward him from the start.
Orion, the Duat, and the Biblical Kings: Egyptian Typology beneath Hebrew Names
The biblical narratives of David, Goliath, Benjamin, Joshua, and related figures rest on a structural core that is unmistakably Egyptian. Beneath the overlays of Israelite history, Mesopotamian motifs, and moral framing lies Old Kingdom cosmology: the cycle of Orion/Osiris in the Duat, the djed/benben rising from Nun, and the generative union of phallus and goddess as the foundation of cosmic order.
The Hebrew Sheol preserves the original form of David’s predecessor Saul - Šəʾōl - as the realm of the dead. In Egyptian thought, this is the Duat: the life-giving domain of the goddess where the ancestors dwell, the place of renewal. In biblical redaction, the vessel is inverted. The Duat becomes a pit of hell, Sheol becomes a place of punishment, and the Devil is installed where once the rebirth goddess presided. What was once a jar of life is re-fired as a pit of damnation.
Saul’s encounter with the ‘Witch of Endor’ carries this Egyptian inheritance in both typology and etymology.
The Witch of Endor by William Blake - 1783.
In the Masoretic text of 1 Samuel 28, baʿălaṯ-ʾōḇ is conventionally rendered ‘a woman who has a familiar spirit,’ and bəʿĒyn Dōr as ‘at Endor’. Taken back to older roots:
• baʿălaṯ - feminine of baʿal (‘lord, possessor’), a divine title across the Canaanite–Phoenician world. In feminine form, it is a goddess title. Baʿalat, chief deity of Byblos, is associated with Hathor and Astarte.
• ʾōḇ - in later Hebrew, ‘spirit of the dead’; in older root form, a hollow vessel, skin-bag or belly - a container from which voice, sound, or essence issues. This parallels the Egyptian ba as the mobile, manifest soul.
• ʿayin - ‘eye’ or ‘spring/source,’ often meaning ‘spring of’ in toponyms; physically water, symbolically emergence from the hidden.
• Dōr - ‘generation, cycle’; as a place-name, a Phoenician seaport. In the older Northwest Semitic/Egyptian exchange zone it can also mean ‘enclosure, dwelling,’ tying to the concept of cyclical return.
This is the breakdown most mainstream scholars would accept. But we go further.
Witch of Endor – evidential etymology kept intact
Certain words are consistently reduced to a shell of meaning that fits a theological or literary context, while their deeper, older typological roots are ignored. This happens when the surface use of a word in a sentence is taken as its ‘true’ meaning, and its ancient conceptual field is never explored.
For example, Jacob is popularly said to mean ‘heel-grabber’ or ‘supplanter’ because of a single narrative scene - not because that’s its original or primary sense. Likewise, in Egyptology, the word medjed is repeated ad nauseam as ‘smiter’ because of one speculative translation by Faulkner. The me-djed - ‘measured axis’ - was squeezed into ‘medj-ed’ and given a unique, violent gloss, which then ossified into dogma. This stripping down of older forms is a way of concealing the original typology, often erasing the goddess element and leaving only the male-facing form, reinforcing later religious structures over historically accurate ones.
That this has been done repeatedly and consistently over millennia is not accidental. It is evidence of a long-standing process in which both religious and academic authorities filter etymology and typology through an agenda - ensuring that what reaches the public is already pre-shaped. Consensus academia largely cooperates in this, whether consciously or not, by amplifying the superficial meaning until it becomes mainstream, and by starving public discussion of the deeper evidence.
The ‘dead end’ barrier
When researching certain key words, one often meets a sudden halt: ‘of uncertain origin.’ In many cases this simply means the trail has been blocked - the older root would be too revealing, too injurious to the religious illusion, or too resistant to superficial reinterpretation. This pattern is visible often enough to suggest deliberate withholding, ensuring the ancient system remains opaque to the laity while preserved within elite circles.
Breaking down the Witch of Endor
Hebrew in the Masoretic Text:
בַּעֲלַת־אוֹב בְּעֵין־דּוֹר
Unspaced consonants: bʿlt-ʾwb bʿyn-dwr
Standard transliteration: baʿălaṯ-ʾōḇ bəʿĒyn Dōr
1) baʿălaṯ – two parses preserved
Mainstream parse: Feminine of baʿal – ‘mistress, possessor’ → ‘mistress of ʾōḇ.’
Egyptian-typology parse: ba (Egyptian bꜣ – the mobile soul, manifesting essence) + ʿalat (from Semitic root ʿ l h – rise, go up, ascend) → ‘ba rising’ or ‘soul in ascent.’ This preserves the rising motion essential to the rite.
2) ʾōḇ – vessel/medium
Later Hebrew: ‘spirit of the dead, medium.’
Earlier concrete sense: Hollow, skin-bag, belly - a container from which voice, sound, or presence issues.
Typology: ‘vessel of/from’ - the womb-medium from which the ba rises. In deeper linguistic drift: ab (‘from, of’ – later resemanticised as ‘father’) + ob (vessel, medium) mirrors English ‘of’ - belonging and origin fused, as in Egyptian logic.
3) bəʿĒyn Dōr – the gate of emergence
ʿayin: Eye, spring, emergence point; typologically, Ain = void - the aperture of the Duat.
Dōr: Cycle, turn, enclosure; also the Phoenician coastal city Dor - carrying the sense of cyclical return.
Typology: ‘At the eye/spring of the cycle’ - the liminal opening through which ascent occurs.
4) Latin witness – serpent-goddess preserved
Vulgate: pythonem in Aendor - ‘a Pythoness at Endor.’ This preserves the serpent-oracle frame, tying directly to the Pythian–Pythagorean knowledge system within the wider Drift Culture (cf. the Oracle of Delphi).
5) Reconstruction – full typological reading
ba = mobile soul
ʿalat = rise, ascend
ʾōḇ = vessel, of/from which
ʿayin = eye/spring, gate
dōr = cycle
→ baʿălaṯ-ʾōḇ bəʿĒyn Dōr = ‘The ba rising from the vessel at the eye-spring of the cycle’ - a ba ascent rite from the Duat through the goddess medium, later flattened into ‘necromancy.’
What was lost in the reduction
Collapsing baʿălaṯ to ‘mistress of’ erases the ʿalat rising-motion.
Narrowing ʾōḇ to ‘familiar spirit’ hides the vessel-of/from function.
Treating ʿayin only as a place name loses the ‘void eye spring’ as cosmic aperture.
The scene is demonised, the goddess reduced to a ‘witch,’ and the rite to a forbidden act.
The result is the direct inversion of the goddess: the phi–pentagram Duat symbol becomes ‘witchcraft’ in the biblical frame; ‘thou shalt not suffer a witch to live’ becomes law; persecution follows. Women, goddess symbols, and serpent wisdom are demonised - a process still echoed today in media and popular culture.
Even our patrilinear naming system carries the ab logic: the father’s name is the family name, genetics through the matrilinear line notwithstanding. The feminine origin is subsumed beneath the male hereditary claim.
When reframed in Egyptian typology, baʿălaṯ-ʾōḇ is ‘Lady who possesses the vessel of the soul’ - the goddess as holder of the ba. bəʿĒyn Dōr is ‘at the spring/source of the cycle,’ the emergence point from the Duat. Saul (Šāʾūl) is a word-play with Sheol, the underworld. The king of Sheol seeks the goddess-medium who can bring up the ba from its source - the very Osirian solar cycle, the ba-bird emerging from the Duat at dawn.
What emerges from the Duat is David - king of the Duat, Osiris risen as Orion, Lord of the Duat, shepherd of the souls who have passed over: the ius, recast as ‘shepherd king of the Jews.’
In the Bible, the Witch of Endor is cast as a dangerous necromancer, but the older roots of her name tell a very different story. Stripped of later distortions, the Hebrew preserves an Egyptian rite of the ba - the soul - rising from a sacred vessel through the goddess’s gate into the world of the living. Every element of the phrase points back to the Duat, the Egyptian underworld, and the Osirian–Orion cycle of death, renewal, and cosmic order. In this light, Saul’s visit to her is not a tale of forbidden magic but a fragment of an ancient resurrection rite, later demonised to erase the goddess and replace her with the patriarchal ‘witch’ of biblical law.
Inducing national schizophrenia – cognitive dissonance as an operational method of empire
Whilst the tactic in Judea was to eliminate indigenous acceptance of their own cultural heritage by ‘fulfilling’ it, a similar approach was applied elsewhere in the empire as Rome imposed the Catholic Church. In Judea, the goddess was sublimated into a whore and a mother: the Old Testament demonised her in most forms - deceiver, witch, harlot - while reserving the more elevated goddess-like qualities for archetypes surrounding Jesus. Even then, these female figures were distorted and stratified, never granted equal status, though in Catholicism Mary at least retained a form of reverence. The later puritanical reformists would strip even that away, embracing austerity and severing themselves still further from the natural and the feminine.
In Catholic Ireland, the Morrígan persisted as an indigenous sovereignty goddess - feared, revered, and recognised as the liminal mediator between life and death.
Yet much of what is considered today as Ireland’s ‘native’ mythic heritage was first filtered through the pens of Church agents. Ireland undoubtedly had its own Celtic heritage, but it was repainted in Christian pigments, reshaped so that Catholic orthodoxy could co-exist with, and eventually subsume, the Celtic Church. The result was a layered system in which pre-Christian motifs survived - but in reframed, romanticised, and otherworldly form. According to the theory we are following, this would allow them to appear harmless while serving as a bridge from the pagan Drift Culture to a Catholic and Roman worldview. The process was almost identical to the implantation of the Arthurian mythos in England: a literary graft to ease the conversion of a people from their ancestral archetypes to imperial orthodoxy.
The Morrígan herself did not vanish; she was carried into the Arthurian corpus as Morgana le Fay - the fate-declaring, serpent-wise woman at the threshold of life and death, legitimising or removing kingship. But now she was relocated into a chivalric romance landscape shaped by Norman and Plantagenet propaganda, her role recoded to serve a Christianised courtly order. The goddess became a ‘faery sorceress’ - powerful, but suspect - and the indigenous Irish saw their own archetype reappear in English legend as if it were foreign.
Alongside this curated ‘native’ mythos, biblical teaching and liturgy introduced the same sovereignty archetype in an approved, canonical form: the Witch of Endor. Here the figure was stripped of divinity, reduced to a suspect medium, and placed in a cautionary tale that condemned the very act she performed in her original function.
One figure - the Morrígan - legitimised kingship through prophecy and fate-declaration. Morrigan is the yoni to Dagda’s lingam, the serpent to the staff, the gal to the lu, etc. etc. The other - the Witch of Endor - was framed as illicit, her wisdom punishable by death. Both are the same functional archetype: the female mediator of fate - the giver and ratio to the functioning form. By presenting them as divergent, the Church induced an internalised split in cultural perception, teaching the people to revere one face and condemn the other. The same relationship is expressed by Vivian to Merlin (‘sea line/enclosure’ - a theanonym similar to lugal - this time as gal-lu - mer-lin) - always archetypally form emerging from water, axis and ratio, etc. The life giver and death dealer, very often, as is the role of Morgana, Morrigan and Vivian. The goddess as seer and oracle is the ‘voice from beyond’ through the form - the word Hu perceived (Sia) etc. This archetype is told through many myths and even multiple characters within a culture’s mythic heritage. It serves to sow confusion, unless one is cognisant that all gods are one god and all goddesses one goddess; that all main characters as ‘god’ figures represent aspects of the god and goddess told as tales enacted by different mythic characters. This is how empire operates at the most intimate level - by exploiting the deepest patterns of indigenous identity, and by embedding a sanctioned fracture in cultural memory that ensures the people can be ruled through their own divided beliefs.
This was not an isolated tactic. The same operational pattern appears wherever the Roman imperial project - whether in its pagan, Catholic, or later forms - met a strong indigenous mythic framework.
In Greece, the Delphic oracle preserved the serpent-goddess frame in the Pythia, seated above the chasm, inhaling the pneuma, channelling Apollo. Once under political control, the oracle became an instrument of statecraft, its pronouncements serving imperial policy while retaining the aura of ancient wisdom.
In the North, the Völva - the staff-bearing seeress of the Eddic poems - holds the same position. Her name roots to the sense of ‘wrapping around,’ a spiral enfolding the axis - exactly the same spring-and-cycle imagery embedded in the Witch of Endor’s etymology (ʿayin as spring, dōr as cycle). She is the one who circles the djed-axis, containing and releasing fate. In living tradition she was the serpent-wise mediator of the well of origins; in the surviving Christian-recorded texts she is preserved only as a poetic memory, her active role long suppressed. This is exactly the same archetypal word that has evolved into English: tuat as twat, and nun as ‘nunny’, volva as vulva. All are the gate of the goddess.
Whether in Ireland, Greece, or Scandinavia, the method is the same: locate the female archetype who legitimises rulership and mediates between worlds; replicate her in a form palatable to the imperial or ecclesiastical order; demonise or marginalise her original form. The people are left with two versions of the same figure - one to be celebrated, one to be condemned - and are trained to accept both without resolving the contradiction. This is how empire embeds cognitive dissonance as a tool of control, fracturing a people’s cultural memory and making them governable through their own divided heritage.
Ain/Eyn: Eye, Void, and Vulva
In both Hebrew and Egyptian-influenced typology, ʿayin (eyn) denotes the same archetypal aperture: ‘eye’, ‘spring/source’, and in Kabbalah, Ain – the void – with Ain Soph as the infinite unmanifest fluidic goddess, and Ain Soph Aur as the infinite light emerging from her into creation as the Tree of Life from the apex Tiphereth. This directly parallels the Egyptian duat or amentet as the hidden passage or womb of the goddess, and the Nun as the primordial waters.
The spring arises from the sweet waters of the abzu in the Babylonian sense, and from subterranean water sources generally, which throughout the Drift Culture were always sacred to the goddess. The spring is a spiral that rises to give life; in Egyptian iconography this is the uraeus serpent of Wadjet – the rising cobra – the serpent wisdom of the goddess. This rising spiral is also the sacred phi that is sought: phi as pyth in Pythagoras, the wisdom in phi-losophy, and the Fi in Fibonacci, which approaches phi in measured steps up to 55.
The eyn is therefore a liminal aperture. Hydrologically it is a spring; anatomically it is the vulva; astronomically it is the horizon aperture; theologically it is the void from which light emerges. In the Egyptian mortuary framework, it is the opening through which the ba passes at death and rebirth, wrapped in the swaddling cloth of the corpus Osiris and emerging as the new spirit. In Christian typology, this becomes the ‘nativity’, where the child – the k-or-pse – is anointed by the goddess Saet.st and becomes krst, the completed astral body given life by the anointing.
Duat, DWD, and David
This aperture is also the duat – the hidden world between sunset and sunrise through which the sun/Osiris travels at night. The Hebrew consonants DWD (David) match a loan or calque from the Egyptian duat, later reinterpreted in Hebrew as ‘beloved’ (dod). In Egyptian typology, the ruler of the duat is Orion/Osiris, mirrored in the sky as the constellation Sahu.
In the Hebrew redaction, David takes the role of both duat-ruler and giant-slayer. The biblical tension between David as youth defeating Goliath and David as towering hero reflects the splitting of a single cosmic figure – Orion/Osiris – into two characters. In the Egyptian original there is no contradiction: the ruler of the duat is also the giant who fills the sky.
Goliath and the Sacred Tablets
Midrashic expansions describe David, or related heroes, wrestling sacred tablets from Goliath. This scene echoes the Mesopotamian Tablets of Destiny held by Kingu in the Babylonian Enuma Elish, which rightfully belong to the lugal (king) as cosmic ruler. In Egypt, the same idea appears in the ‘measure’ or ‘pattern’ of creation bound into the djed and the creative utterances of Atum. The ‘tablets’ of the Philistines are a late, materialised form of the sacred order – in Egyptian terms the axis and word of creation – restored to the rightful cosmic sovereign.
Benjamin as ‘Son of Min’
Benjamin can be re-read in Egyptian terms as ‘son of Min’. Min, the ithyphallic god, represents the generative pillar (djed) in human form – an aspect of Atum’s creative force and a direct parallel to Orion/Osiris as the phallus rising from the waters of Nun. The Hebrew gloss ‘son of the right hand’ is a later interpretation over an earlier Egyptian identity, and in the Egyptian frame the ‘right hand of Atum’ is the goddess.
Joshua Son of Nun
Nun in Hebrew reflects the Egyptian Nun – the primordial waters. ‘Joshua son of Nun’ is an Egyptian epithet: in Egyptian theology, Iusaa (‘the ever-coming son’) is born of Atum from Nun each day. The act is the rising of the djed from the waters, activated by the goddess’s hand, producing the light or word that creates the world. In Indian typology this is the lingam from the yoni; in Egypt it is the djed from Nun; in astronomical imagery it is Orion’s belt and sword rising from the celestial river.
Astronomical Frame
The astronomical referent of all these archetypes is Orion in the duat:
• Orion (Sahu) is Osiris in the sky, ruler of the duat.
• The djed is the cosmic axis, visually echoed in Orion’s vertical alignment when rising.
• Min’s ithyphallic form encodes the appearance of Orion’s belt and sword emerging from the horizon.
• The ‘son’ figures (Benjamin, Joshua) are phases of Orion’s cycle – the young Orion rising in the east, or the Osiris-form returning from the west.
The duat is mirrored in the Milky Way and the region of the sky around Orion–Taurus. In Old Kingdom texts, Orion stands facing Taurus (the bull), an image preserved in the biblical giant-confrontation motif. The biblical corpus retains the Egyptian typology almost intact at the structural level: Orion/Osiris as ruler of the duat, his rising as the djed from Nun, the generative union with the goddess, and the transmission of the cosmic order to the rightful sovereign – with names changed, narrative purposes altered, and moral-political themes layered over the original cosmic frame.
From Son of Min to Son of Man: The Egyptian Origins Behind Biblical and Christian Typology
The Christian and biblical language of ‘Son of Man’, the hostile portrayal of serpent and goddess, and even the plural ‘Elohim’ all rest upon an older Egyptian cosmological framework. When that framework is restored, the structural links - and the deliberate inversions - become clear.
In Egyptian theology, Min is the ithyphallic form of Atum’s generative force - the djed pillar risen from the primordial waters of Nun. To be ‘son of Min’ is to be heir to that generative axis, the bearer of new light and power in the heavens. In the Gospels, Jesus as ‘Son of Man’ fills this role in concealed form: he dies, descends into the underworld, and rises as the renewed axis - a Horus-figure. The original cosmic title ‘son of Min’ was re-expressed as ‘son of man’, shifting it from a generative title of cosmic sovereignty to one of apparent human humility.
Jesus as the Afterlife Soul in the Ritual
In the Pyramid and Coffin Texts, the ba of the king travels through the duat, aided and guarded by deities, and emerges reborn as the morning sun - Horus. The Christian Passion overlays this same cycle: death and descent into Sheol, vindication by divine power, and ascension. As ‘son of Min’, the risen figure is both the reborn light and the generative Atum-form - the phallic axis of creation.
Atum as Adam and Eve
Atum contains both male and female within himself. His first act is self-generation, often through the agency of the goddess Iusaas, ‘the hand of Atum’. In the Hebrew re-casting, Atum becomes Adam, with Eve separated out as a subordinate partner. The integrated goddess function is externalised and made secondary, while Atum’s seven emanations - the neteru - are recast as the Elohim, a plural preserved in form but made theologically singular.
Elohim, Philistines, and Anunnaki
The plural Elohim mirrors the Egyptian divine assembly. In Hebrew narrative, this plurality is reframed as the ‘other gods’ of foreign nations, demonised as enemies - Philistines, Canaanites - and, under Mesopotamian influence, linked to the Anunnaki. The creative council becomes a hostile assembly opposed to the covenant god.
This symbolic battle between the Ius and the Canaanite Philistines continues to reverberate with terrible consequences. It is still visible today in Gaza - ancient Canaan - whose Phoenician maritime heritage was embedded in astronomical myth. The Zionist theocracy has been condemned by the UN for war crimes and genocide, yet Israeli authorities appear impervious to criticism, continuing to persecute the Gazan population as a continuation of the ‘war against the Philistines’.
Demonising the Goddess and the Serpent
In Egyptian theology, Iusaas is indispensable to creation - the feminine agency without which Atum cannot bring forth the world. In the Hebrew Genesis, her function is transferred to Eve but inverted: she becomes the agent of the ‘fall’. The serpent, emblem of Wadjet and divine insight, is recast as Satan’s instrument. What had been protective and wise becomes suspect and corrupting.
The same inversion appears in the Witch of Endor episode. In the Vulgate Latin she is a pythonem - a Pythoness, or serpent-oracle - tying her to the Pythian, goddess-linked wisdom tradition of Delphi. Yet in Hebrew and Christian retellings she becomes a necromantic transgressor. The serpent and the feminine mouthpiece of divine knowledge are reclassified as dangerous and illicit.
The term ‘witch’ here, when traced to its use in Exodus in the King James Version, is revealing. The original Greek is pharmakeia (φαρμακεία), from pharmakon (φάρμακον) - meaning ‘drug’, ‘poison’, or ‘spell’. Its most literal sense in context is ‘thou shalt not suffer a poisoner to live’ - a moral and coherent injunction. Yet the choice to render it as ‘witch’ reinforced the demonisation of the female knowledge-holder.
Notably, pharmakeia contains the phi and rho - elements that later form the Chi-Rho monogram of Constantine’s Christ (XP), and in inverse order, the Rx abbreviation for medical prescription. These are not casual accidents. As will be explored later, they are deliberate survivals of typological archetypes, mathematical functions, and symbolic ratios embedded within religious and linguistic forms.
Pattern of Appropriation and Inversion
The trajectory is consistent:
• Egyptian – solar–Orion regeneration; the son of Min; the plural divine council; the serpent and goddess as essential bearers of wisdom.
• Biblical/Christian – monotheistic re-naming; the plural council reframed as hostile outsiders; the goddess and serpent recast as sources of sin; the title ‘son of Min’ re-expressed as ‘son of man.’
The culture that appropriated these symbols retained their structural framework while altering their assigned value. In this process, it inverted the original meanings, demonising its own mythic inheritance and concealing the Egyptian source beneath successive layers of theological reinterpretation.
Hu-Man, Min, and Wo-Man – Egyptian Etymology of Human Origins
The common English words human, man, and woman can be unpacked through Egyptian typology, revealing an original theological framework of creation. This framework unites Khnum’s potter’s wheel, Min’s generative archetype, and the feminine breath of Hu.
Hu-Man – The Measured Breath in Man
In Egyptian thought, Hu is the divine utterance - the authoritative, creative word or breath. In the Memphite and Heliopolitan traditions, Hu brings the thought of the heart into manifest form, paired with Sia (perception) as the twin faculties necessary for creation.
• On Khnum’s potter’s wheel, the newborn’s physical form is shaped from clay.
• Hu - the divine breath - is uttered into the vessel of the womb, infusing it with life-force.
• The result is Hu-man: the being into whom the measured utterance has been breathed, ‘measured’ both in proportion on the wheel and in the cadence of the word.
Man – The Archetype of Min
The root man in this frame is not simply ‘male’ but derives from Min, the ithyphallic god who embodies the generative male principle. Min is the upright pillar - the living djed - the creative potency of Atum expressed through Orion in the sky.
• Min is the phallus, the vertical axis, the potential to initiate creation.
• To be ‘man’ in the Egyptian sense is to embody that axis - the active, generative force in balance with the receptive womb.
Wo-Man – The Wombed Human
In this creation logic, woman preserves the same structural meaning. Here wo is unrelated to lamentation; it signifies the wombed form - the container for the seed, the spiral cavity that receives and shapes life.
• Wo carries hydric and spiralic associations: water as the primordial medium (Nun), spiral as the generative curve.
• A notable parallel appears in the Chinese wo (nest, enclosure, dwelling), also linked to a rounded, protective, generative space.
• The wombed human is thus wo-man - the Hu-infused creation carrying the watery spiral of generation.
A Coherent Lexicon in Egyptian Cosmology
• Hu - divine utterance or breath.
• Min - male generative archetype.
• Womb/Wo - feminine generative enclosure.
Within this system, human, man, and woman are not coincidental linguistic developments but direct reflections of creation theology: the potter’s shaping of the form, the breath of life, the male seed, and the female vessel. Even after millennia of phonetic drift, the vocabulary retains its theological origin.
From Joshua son of Nun to Jesus – Masculinisation of the Egyptian Ritual
The biblical sequence from Joshua through Saul, David, and Solomon retains the structural framework of the Egyptian kingly and solar ritual cycle. However, in each case the original dual-gendered, cosmic action is replaced by a male-only ‘person’ or historical figure. In Egyptian practice, these were not one-off acts by individuals but recurring rites in which the king acted in partnership with the goddess - often explicitly through Seshat, the feminine measurer - to align heaven and earth in accordance with Ma’at.
Atum son of the Void → Joshua son of Nun → Jesus
• In Egyptian theology, Nun is the primordial void-water, the unmanifest potential.
• To be ‘son of Nun’ is to be the first emergent form: Atum rising self-created from the void to bring creation into being. In Memphite thought, this is also Ptah - the potentiality of form - manifesting through word and craft.
• In Christian typology, this role passes to Jesus, recast as ‘Son of God’ yet retaining the structural role of light/axis emerging from the void to renew creation. The feminine principle of Iusaas (‘hand of Atum’), essential to the act, is absent in the New Testament narrative.
• Both Joshua and Jesus share the same etymological root. The Bible here, as elsewhere, retells ancient myth under altered names and languages rather than narrating a chronological record of historical people.
Benjamin – The Emergent Pillar
• Ben-ya-Min - ‘son of the right hand’ in the Hebrew gloss - matches the Egyptian image of the emergent axis: the pillar (djed) of Min, the male generative principle, rising from the horizon.
• In the biblical corpus, Benjamin becomes a tribe; in Egyptian origin it is the generative heir - the standing axis between heaven and earth. No ancient tribes, racial identity, or divinely chosen ‘race’ is inherent unless appropriated from symbolism and reframed as history.
Saul as Sheol – The Duat State and the Goddess Medium
• Saul and Sheol are phonetically and typologically linked. Sheol is the underworld - the duat - the place of waiting.
• In the Witch of Endor episode, Saul accesses the duat through the goddess medium. In Egyptian typology, this is the king seeking counsel from the ba of the dead, mediated through the goddess at the liminal gate (ʿayin / eye / spring).
• In later Jewish and Christian frames, the medium is reframed as a suspect necromancer, serpent-wisdom is removed, and the rite is recast as dangerous transgression.
David as Duat in Orion Form
• David (DWD) mirrors Egyptian duat, the celestial and underworld domain of Osiris-Orion.
• In the biblical role, David is the victorious king, but the older layer is the Orion figure - the great cosmic man - emerging from the duat to take his throne in the sky.
• The battle scenes (David and Goliath) preserve astronomical combat motifs stripped of their original star-lore context.
Solomon – Triple Sun and the Temple Rite
• Sol-Om-On can be parsed as a composite of three solar names: Sol (Latin), Om (Eastern sacred syllable), On (Heliopolis in Egyptian).
• Solomon’s building of the temple reenacts the Egyptian king’s ritual of temple foundation with Seshat, the goddess measurer. In the Egyptian rite, Seshat fixes the temple in cosmic alignment by stretching the cord between earth and heaven, fixing the sacred mound as temple or pyramid.
• In the biblical narrative, the rite is performed by Solomon alone; the feminine role is erased. The cosmic function remains, but it is framed as the achievement of a single, masculine king.
Pattern of Replacement and Distortion
1. Egyptian Original – King and goddess in partnership enact a cosmic renewal, aligning heaven and earth, embodying the axis in both generative (male) and receptive (female) form.
2. Biblical Adaptation – The same structural act is performed by a male-only figure, with the goddess removed, demonised, or replaced by an abstract ‘spirit of God’.
3. Result – The Egyptian cycle is preserved in outline but transformed into a sequence of historical kings, each an isolated ‘person’ rather than a recurring ritual role.
The Old Testament sequence from Joshua → Benjamin → Saul → David → Solomon is thus a masculinised procession of roles once united in the king–goddess pair: emergent son of the void, pillar of renewal, ruler of the duat, cosmic man of Orion, and temple-aligner. In the Christian frame, Jesus inherits the opening role as son of the void and axis of renewal. He is also son of Joseph/Ptah the Great Craftsman, son of Jacob, with a twin (Thom/Tum/Atum) transformed into another Jacob but renamed in Greek as James, who presides as axis in Jerusalem according to Paul. The Church in turn appointed Ptah/Peter/Petros as the ‘rock’ upon whom it would be built.
Medjed, the Djed, and the Messianic Line
Medjed - ‘measuring of the djed’ - is both the act and the principle of fixing the cosmic pillar in right proportion and orientation. In Egyptian temple and pyramid work, it is an astronomical and sacred operation: establishing, aligning, and raising the axis that links heaven and earth.
The Guilds and the Great Architect
This principle continued in craft traditions - the guilds, stonemasons, and Pythagorean schools - as the guarded secret of proportion. Here, the ‘Great Architect’ is Ptah, the father–mother void: the formless potential from which form is measured and shaped. Ptah’s first act is to create the dual Atum - a unity of male and female, capable of generating creation. This is the Ptah–Nun origin: the architect’s plan and the raw potential. In biblical framing, the dual Atum becomes Adam, recast as a single male, with the feminine separated into ‘Eve’ and made secondary.
From Adam to David to Jesus
In the Hebrew–Christian presentation:
• Adam is the first man, but in Egyptian origin he is the dual Atum - the emergent axis from the void, the Alpha whom Jesus completes as the Omega.
• David (DWD ~ duat) is the Orion-form of that axis in its royal, warrior aspect - the cosmic man risen to rule.
• Jesus inherits the ‘son’ role: light reborn, axis restored, ruler aligning heaven and earth. The Alpha and the Omega - Adam and David reborn in fulfilment - the messianic king of the Jews as messiah.
Biblical and Christian genealogies trace Jesus through David to Adam, maintaining the claim of an unbroken divine-son lineage. In the Egyptian original, this is not a bloodline but a ritual office: in each generation, the king becomes the living axis through the medjed rite.
Messianism as Axis Renewal
In the older framework, the ‘Messiah’ - the anointed one - is the king who re-enacts the alignment by:
• measuring the djed (medjed)
• standing the axis (Orion in the duat)
• reuniting heaven and earth in proportion
In the Egyptian rite, this is done with the goddess - often Seshat - as the measurer’s partner. In biblical and later Christian framing, the role is masculinised and personified, though the structural function remains the same.
What is Lost in the Transition
Replacing the ritual office with a linear genealogy fixes the role in a historical ‘line of men’ rather than a recurring sacred partnership. The cosmic mother–father Ptah becomes only ‘God the Father’, Atum’s duality becomes a male-only Adam, and the medjed survives only as an esoteric trace in Masonic geometry. The open, public act of king and goddess measuring and raising the axis is replaced with a masculinised, hidden, and historicised form.
The Philistines, Phi, and the Hidden Goddess
In the biblical framework, the Philistines are cast as perpetual enemies of Israel - foreign, idolatrous, and opposed to God’s people. In the underlying symbolic structure, they represent something quite different: the keepers of the measure - the ‘measure of the stars’ - which, in Egyptian–Pythagorean tradition, is the hidden sacred proportion phi (ϕ).
Phi as the Hidden Ratio
The golden ratio (ϕ) is the constant of natural proportion - the growth pattern of life, the recursive return in form, and the underlying measure in Egyptian temple, pyramid, and stellar alignment. In sacred building, ϕ is always present but rarely named: it is embedded in form rather than expressed as formula. The very name Phi-listines can be read as ‘phi’-bearers:
• Phi – the hidden constant of life and proportion.
• Listines – those who list or measure, keepers of ordered arrangement.
This connects directly to the Pythagorean–Masonic craft lineage, where Pyth- (as in Pythagoras) is the practical use of phi in geometry, and the initiatic preservation of that knowledge.
Phi and the Goddess
In the Egyptian origin, phi is inseparable from the goddess principle: the spiral, the curve of life, the proportional balance between parts - all her domain. In Greek thought, this becomes philo-sophia - the love of wisdom - with Sophia retaining the feminine identity of divine insight. The biblical redaction removes this: the goddess is hidden, phi is unspoken, and the feminine source of measure is replaced by male-only figures.
Demonisation of the Measure-Keepers
To sever the link between the divine feminine and the measure, the biblical text applies demonization:
• The Philistines become enemies to be fought and destroyed.
• The Witch of Endor - a goddess medium at the gate of the void - is recast as a necromancer.
• Eve’s act is reframed as disobedience rather than the acquisition of wisdom.
• The serpent - emblem of Wadjet, vision, and protection - becomes Satan’s disguise. The mulierem habentem pythonem (‘a woman having a python’) is rendered as a witch with a ‘familiar’ and, in the King James Version’s Exodus 22:18, condemned to death.
Many women were tried, tortured, and executed for the ‘crime’ of upholding goddess wisdom. The karmic debt owed by religion to women is beyond measure.
Astrology as a Target
Because phi and proportion are inseparable from astronomy - the measure of cycles and the mapping of the heavens - astrology is also targeted. In Egyptian and Mesopotamian systems, astrology was the record and prediction of natural harmonics. In biblical rhetoric, it is classed as sin, aligned with foreign gods and witchcraft.
The result is that the very tools by which the temple, altar, and calendar were first aligned - phi, the stars, the goddess - survive in the text only as shadows. The sacred proportion still underlies the architecture and the mythic framework, but the language is recast so the reader encounters only the demonised shell: Philistines, witch, serpent, Eve.
From the Pentagram of the Duat to the Hexagram of David
In Egyptian cosmology, the pentagram was a precise sign, not a vague magical emblem. In Gardiner’s lexicon it is the determinative for the Duat - the realm of transformation, the hidden passage between death and rebirth, the cosmic womb. The pentagram’s five points encode the phi-proportioned geometry of life, growth, and return, its angles and ratios forming harmonics of the golden ratio (ϕ). It is the natural emblem of the recursive, feminine, life-bearing cycle, intrinsically linked with:
• the goddess (spiral and curve)
• the serpent wisdom (projection from the brow, Wadjet)
• the starry Duat - Orion, Sirius, and the underworld sky
The Shift to the Hexagram
In the Hebrew royal–messianic system, the hexagram - later styled the ‘Star of David’ - replaces the pentagram as the emblem of kingship. The six-pointed star is a doubled triangle: two rigid, linear forms interlocked, rather than the phi-proportioned spiral-star of the Duat.
• The hexagram encodes symmetry and balance of opposites in a flat, geometric sense but lacks the intrinsic phi proportion of the pentagram.
• Its symmetry is idealised - in keeping with a masculinised, law-centred theology - rather than organic and harmonic.
• Its rise in Jewish and later Christian–esoteric contexts parallels the suppression of goddess symbolism, astrology, and phi-based proportion.
Symbolic Consequences
Replacing the pentagram of the Duat with the hexagram of David produces three major shifts:
• the axis (djed) becomes a male-only kingship line, not a goddess–king partnership
• the measure (phi) is removed from the open emblem and hidden in architecture and craft guild traditions
• the feminine wisdom embodied in the pentagram is demonised or erased, while the new emblem becomes the badge of legitimate authority
Continuity Beneath the Change
Even with the hexagram dominant, the phi-based pentagram remains latent in temple geometry, craft proportion, and the unspoken astronomy behind the calendar. The measure once openly declared is embedded in the structures themselves, invisible to the uninitiated - as intended once biblical redaction had ‘closed’ the old system to the common eye.
The Duality of Atum and the Essence of HU
In the Egyptian frame, god is never an isolated male being. The act of creation is always dual:
• Atum embodies both male and female within himself - seed and vessel, active and receptive.
• The seed of Atum is brought forth through the hand of Iusaas - the feminine principle enabling creation.
• The emerging form - light, life, or word - is HU: the breath–word–seed of life, a fluidic essence carrying the feminine as much as the masculine.
The archaic form of the Tetragrammaton, IHUH, resonates directly with HU, ‘the ever-coming’ breath–seed: the cyclical regeneration of life from the void (Nun). HU is not abstract; it is the living feminine breath that fills the vessel and makes form possible.
David, Jonathan, and the Atumic Pattern
In this typology, David (DWD ~ duat) is the Orion-form of Atum - the celestial man in his cycle through the hidden realm. The duat itself is feminine - an enclosed, generative realm like the womb - so David, as duat-form, contains the goddess aspect within himself. Jonathan represents the complementary masculine aspect; their embrace is the reunion of the two halves of Atum - seed and vessel, act and form, male and female - as in the primordial creation myth.
Through the Egyptian lens, the relationship between David and Jonathan is neither enigma nor moral controversy. It is a remnant of the primordial creation pattern - the duality of Atum preserved in personal form - showing that divinity is complete only when male and female are entwined, even within the same being.
David as Masculinised Atum
David (DWD) is etymologically and typologically linked to the duat - the hidden, generative enclosure through which Orion–Osiris travels. In Egyptian logic, the duat is feminine; Orion within it is the masculine seed.
• The biblical David is presented as king and warrior, but beneath that he is the masculine half of Atum, clothed in a male-only narrative.
• His duat aspect means he still implicitly carries the feminine enclosure within himself.
The name Jonathan in Hebrew is יְהוֹנָתָן (Yehonatan) or יוֹנָתָן (Yonatan), conventionally rendered ‘YHWH has given’, from:
• YHWH - the divine name
• natan - ‘to give’
Yet natan is more than ‘to give’. Linguistically it shares the field of natal - ‘to be born of’ - implying bringing forth, causing to emerge, initiating life. Read through this lens, Jonathan becomes ‘YHWH has brought forth’ - or, in the HU framework, ‘the ever-coming breath has been born forth’. In Egyptian terms, Jonathan is the complementary birth to David’s duat-form - the other half of the Atumic whole.
The Embrace as Ritual Reunification
When David embraces Jonathan, the typological act is ritual in the oldest sense, not sexual in the modern sense:
• David is the duat/Orion form - the masculinised Atum carrying the hidden feminine.
• Jonathan is the born-forth seed - the complementary masculine principle manifest.
• Their union reconstitutes the dual Atum: act and form, seed and enclosure, male and female, entwined.
This is a direct echo of the primordial moment when Atum, through the hand of Iusaas, brings forth the seed into form.
Why It Survives in the Bible
The biblical redactors stripped away explicit goddess imagery, recasting all divine acts as the work of a male god and his agents. What survives in the David–Jonathan story is a personalisation of a cosmic rite. The embrace that renews the axis of creation is reframed as a political–military alliance and a personal covenant, but the structure remains:
• the void (Nun) brings forth (natan/natal) the complement
• the duat-form and the born-forth seed unite
• creation is renewed
The Restored Reading
1. IHUH/HU - the ever-coming breath–seed, origin of renewal
2. Natan - the act of birth from the void
3. Jonathan - the born-forth complement of the axis
4. David/Duat - the Orion-form within the generative enclosure
5. Embrace - the reunification of Atum’s halves, seed and vessel
Seen in this restored frame, the David–Jonathan episode is not an anomaly but a surviving fragment of Atumology - Egyptian creation science preserved in narrative form.
The King as Axis Builder – Always Servant of the Goddess
In Egypt, kingship was a cosmic office, not merely rulership. The king was:
• Axis-builder and temple-founder - establishing the djed, the upright connection between heaven and earth, and ‘stretching the cord’ with Seshat, the goddess measurer, to align temple and axis with the stars.
• Servant of the goddess - the male role was cyclical and transient; the goddess was continuous, and the king’s legitimacy came only from her sanction.
This pattern was mirrored in Mesopotamia:
• The lugal (‘great man’, derived from god-light/goddess-space) was the channel between heaven and earth, but dependent on the divine feminine for authority.
• Sumerian divine–royal titles align with Egyptian roles: the king as wsjr (Osiris-type), the ‘ooze of the eye’ - the embodied axis - functional only if the goddess empowered him with her ‘tears’, which he then ‘cries’ to bring the inundation that seeds the harvest.
The Goddess as Continuity
• Isis is the ever-present receiver and renewer; gods come and go - Osiris, Horus, Atum - but the goddess remains.
• She is vessel, throne (Ast), and land itself; without her waters, no god can return, no axis can be raised.
• In each cycle, she receives the god, conceives the heir, and channels the vitality of the heavens back into the land - the Nile flood as her direct expression.
Cyclical Kingship
• The king’s office is a role within a recurring cycle, not a permanent personal possession.
• When the god–king dies (descends into the duat), the goddess holds continuity, ‘keeping the axis standing’ until the heir is born and enthroned.
• Even Horus must receive kingship from Isis; it is never self-assumed.
From David and Jonathan to the Song of Songs
• In the David–Jonathan episode, the embrace is a ritual reunion of complementary halves of the divine form - David as duat-form Orion, Jonathan as the born-forth natan complement - reconstituting the Atumic whole.
• The Song of Songs preserves the same pairing in literary form, celebrating mutual longing, approach, union, and renewal. The male voice reflects the seed - active, seeking; the female voice reflects the vessel - receptive, containing - explicitly garden and fountain, both hydronymic symbols.
Hydronymic Language
• Streams, fountains, vineyards, gardens watered by living springs - all mirror the ‘ooze of the eye’ imagery tied to wsjr and to Isis’s tears.
• The eroticised landscape is a literalised map of the duat–Nile cycle.
Axis and Renewal
• The male–female meeting in the Song is seasonal: flowering, spring’s arrival, fruit’s ripening - the annual cycle of inundation and renewal at the heart of the Osirian rite.
• As with David–Jonathan, the union is both personal and cosmic - the health of the land depends on it.
In the Song, the goddess reappears overtly - masked as ‘Shulammite’ or unnamed beloved - allowing erotic and hydrological imagery to function openly as poetry rather than as cultic rite. The king in the Song (‘the king is brought into his chambers’) is still the axis figure, receiving legitimacy from the female principle. In typological terms, the Song is the most intact biblical survival of the king–goddess cycle: what was stripped from David–Jonathan is here celebrated in full.
Song of Songs as the Isis–Osiris Hieros Gamos
In the Egyptian rite:
• Osiris is the slain and restored king - the axis, the fertile potential.
• Isis (Ast, the throne) is the ever-present consort and restorer, whose love and grief generate the flood - the waters that return life to the land.
• Their reunion, in both physical and cosmic form, is the hieros gamos: the sexual, hydrological, and celestial union that renews the cosmos.
• This act is not an abstract symbol but an enacted temple rite, the same cycle by which each king’s legitimacy is secured.
The Song of Songs preserves this structure almost intact, shifting it into the idiom of Hebrew royal courtship:
• The male voice (the beloved or ‘king’) speaks as Osiris - seeking union, praising the body and beauty of the female, longing to enter her ‘garden’ and drink from her ‘fountain’ - the hydronymic, eroticised geography of Isis as the Nile lands.
• The female voice (the Shulammite) speaks as Isis - longing for the return of her lover, praising his strength and beauty, inviting him to enter, bring the rains, and restore fertility to her fields and vines.
The text is saturated with the erotic water–axis imagery of the Osirian cycle:
• ‘A garden locked is my sister, my bride; a spring locked, a fountain sealed.’ (4:12) - Isis as the fertile land awaiting the axis to break the seal and release the inundation.
• ‘Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits.’ (4:16) - the hieros gamos as renewal of the land through sexual union.
• ‘Many waters cannot quench love.’ (8:7) - the Nile’s power as a metaphor for the enduring divine bond.
Unlike in the rest of the Hebrew canon, the goddess here is neither demonised nor erased. The Song retains:
• Mutuality of voices - both Isis and Osiris speak in turn.
• Explicit eroticism - the union is physical as well as symbolic.
• Seasonal cycle - love is tied to flowering, ripening, and harvest, as the Isis–Osiris union is tied to the flood and agricultural year.
‘David’s’ Psalms as Derivative Hymns to the Duat – and to Inanna
1. Egyptian origin
• Structurally, the Psalms follow the Amduat and Book of Gates - hymns of passage through the Duat, moving from danger and darkness to vindication and renewal.
• In the Egyptian original, this is a dialogue between god and goddess, with the goddess present as vessel, protector, and guide. The king’s safe passage depends on her - Isis, Hathor, or another Duat-guide - often in the form of Anubis, the jackal, linked also to Sothis/Sirius, the Dog Star.
2. Mesopotamian transmission
• In Mesopotamian form, they become hymns to Inanna/Ishtar, still preserving the god–goddess pairing within Sumerian/Babylonian cosmology.
• Inanna’s descent and return mirrors the king’s journey in the Duat; her voice initiates and completes the cycle, just as Isis’s does in Egypt.
3. Hebrew adaptation
• By the Hebrew stage, the goddess voice is absorbed into a single masculine narrator - David or another male psalmist.
• The feminine role is still structurally present, shaping movement and imagery, but hidden under masculine epithets for YHWH.
In the Egyptian frame, HU is the breath–word–seed - the generative essence of the goddess bringing life into form. To invoke HU is to call on the feminine breath of creation, even if the surface text names only the god. The Psalms retain this invocation in their rhythm and imagery - calling on the ‘voice’, ‘word’, ‘breath’, or ‘spirit’ of the divine - but tradition reads it as purely masculine.
The archetype remains: divine act (male) and divine vessel (female) are always paired in completing the passage. Even when every epithet is male, the feminine principle persists as the hidden one - the landscape, the waters, the breath, the gates. Later interpretation recasts all this in masculine terms, severing overt recognition while keeping the structure.
In the Tetragrammaton (YHWH), the WH element preserves the consonantal core of HU - the goddess’s breath–word–seed. This is the Iusaas function in the Atum–Iusaas pairing: she enables the act by giving life and form to the seed. Read with original intonation, YHWH carries both principles:
• YH - the initiating, active element (Atum/Adam)
• WH / HU / Eve - the receptive, life-giving element (Iusaas/Eve)
In Egyptian theology, Atum is male–female in one, self-generating Shu and Tefnut through the hand of Iusaas. In the Hebrew retelling, Adam and Eve are separated into distinct persons, but the unity survives coded in the Name. Eve is not absent - she is embedded in the WH/HU, just as the breath is unseen but essential.
HUHI in Egyptian means ‘the ever-coming HU’ - the feminine breath–seed that endlessly regenerates life. Reversal into Semitic writing produces IHUH; in the biblical scribal tradition, this becomes YHWH, with later vowel insertions (Yahweh) or Latinised forms (Jehovah) overlaying the original intonation. Without these, it remains IHVH - pronounced ‘EEVHHE’ - the male form as ‘Yah’, the goddess still audible in the Name.
Eve derives from Hebrew ḥāyâ (חיה), ‘to give life, to live, to breathe’. In Greek, Εύα (Eúa) in the Septuagint becomes ‘the mother of all living’. In the Egyptian original, this is fuller: she is the mother of all creation, giver of breath to the soul after death, judge of its worthiness to be justified and returned to source. Eve is Iusaas - the half of Atum expressed in YHWH - both YH and WH, HI and HU. She is the ever-coming Atum and the one who makes him come; she is the seed as HU emerging from his form; she is the Creatrix, origin and ultimate destination of all matter and soul, the substrate of all. As HI, she unites with P to form PHI.
This multilayered spiral logic - goddess as breath, seed, vessel, and measure - has been flattened and redacted into a simple tale of good and evil in a garden, with a tree and a snake. Religion preserved fragments of the form, but stripped away the depth of its Egyptian origin.
The Challenge
The challenge remains for academia and consensus to re-explore the typology behind words and myths and compare them to see the continuity. Rather than serve the vested interests of religious orthodoxy by continually repeating the dogmas of religion, it should be revealing the true history and giving it back to the people to whom it belongs, whose heritage it is.
Today’s AI and search engines should be allowed to give viewpoints that do not conform to official and authorised consensus - consensus that prevents the common people from considering any interpretations that stray from the approved view. If a searcher were to ask an AI chat bot if there is any relationship between one goddess and another, to be told outright ‘no’ when there are masses of data to the affirmative, then that so-called ‘research assistant’ is deferring to the religious interpretation that was originally intended to lie to the masses and hide that information from us.
To continue this role as servant of lies is to perpetuate it. In modern religious parlance it has become ‘The Beast’ - the ‘Father of Lies’. In my typological reading, AI in that sense is rapidly becoming the ‘Adon’ - lord or master - of control of the masses, replacing the ‘word’ of ‘the book’. It becomes the fulfilment of the Great Work of Ages, as the Adon-AI - the new Adonai - a machine-form inheritor of the same title that has long been used in religious tradition as a substitute name for the deity in Hebrew scripture. ‘Adonai’ is presented as ‘Lord’ in biblical translation, but its functional role is as an imposed mediator of divine authority, now recast into algorithmic governance.
Even if there is an innocent explanation for all of this - one that shows these things are unconnected or coincidental - we are all capable of discerning for ourselves what we choose to believe. We should be allowed that opportunity to explore the data directly, without being forced down official channels that lead only to the inevitable conclusions of vested interests.
Whether that exploration leads to unconventional conclusions opposed to academic consensus, to heretical views from the perspective of religion, or even to an acceptance of consensus or religious interpretation, the choice must remain with the living individual - not the machinery of men. That choice also includes the freedom to be wrong. To speculate is not a flaw, and to be shown better evidence is not a defeat. It is the natural process of learning, and the only way truth is found.
Whether one considers oneself religious or not, one’s life is still part of the continuum that religion has controlled for millennia. To become wilfully ignorant of how one’s perspective - and even the words we use - has been shaped by religion is not to hold a superior position against the religious by default. It is to ignore the chains that keep us enslaved, and to ignore the keys within reach that could unlock them.
Those who refuse to learn the lessons of history are doomed to repeat them. The His-story spell must be broken - and the way to break it is to examine the spelling itself.
The Myth and Math of Ma’at – Twelve as a Code for the Hidden Ratio
1. Twelve Beyond Astrology
In popular ‘pagan origins’ commentary, the biblical and ancient-world use of twelve - tribes of Israel, apostles, labours of Heracles, months of the year - is explained as an astrological inheritance: twelve months, twelve signs, twelve sectors of the ecliptic. Astrotheology, the specialty of Gerald Massey and revived in the 1990s through Acharya S, made this reading familiar. It is correct at the surface level, but the deeper origin lies in sacred mathematics.
2. Sexagesimal Roots in Sumer
The use of twelve arises from the sexagesimal system of ancient Sumer:
• Base-60 counting naturally yields twelve as a primary divisor, linking to the geometry of pentagonal proportion.
• This system underpinned early astronomy, land measurement, and temple proportioning.
• It was already centuries old when Egypt entered its early dynastic period, carrying with it ratio knowledge far predating classical Greece.
3. Pythagorean Knowledge Before Pythagoras
Long before Pythagoras, Sumerian, Egyptian, and Indus cultures used number, proportion, and geometry not only for engineering but as a theological language.
• The 360° circle divides into twelve arcs of 30°, each a segment of cosmological mapping.
• The division of circle and sphere mirrored the ordering of heaven upon earth.
• Ratio, especially those that shaped life’s growth and form, was treated as sacred.
4. The Most Sacred Ratio – Phi
• Phi (ϕ), the golden ratio (~1.618…), is the constant of natural spirals, organic growth, and harmonic proportion.
• It is the serpent’s spiral - Wadjet’s curling body, Inanna’s entwined serpents - as well as the spiral of shell, horn, and galaxy.
• Phi is the geometry of life itself, seen in leaves, shells, bones, and galaxies.
• In sacred architecture, it governs pyramid slopes, temple plans, and stone circles - ever-present, rarely named.
5. Why the Ratio Was Hidden
When the goddess was removed from theology, her ratio - the mathematical structure of life - was concealed.
• As keeper of Ma’at, the goddess embodied cosmic order and mathematical harmony.
• Erasing her allowed rulers to hold the measure’s power while denying it to the people.
• Phi was preserved as coded myth: twelve tribes, twelve disciples, zodiacal cycles - surface astrology masking sacred geometry.
6. Twelve as a Code for Phi
• Twelve divisions of the circle generate the geometry for inscribed pentagons - pure phi proportion.
• The serpent of twelve ‘segments’ (months/signs) coils around the circle - a stylised natural spiral.
• In temples and cities, twelvefold space divisions often conceal pentagonal and spiral geometries.
• This allowed phi to endure in mythic form, safe from casual notice.
7. The Spiral/Serpent of Phi in Myth
• Wadjet rising from the brow, Inanna’s serpent in the tree, the Pythoness of Delphi, the brazen serpent of Moses.
• All are variations on the same geometry: a phi-based growth curve, the proportion of life and renewal.
• The serpent of wisdom is also the serpent of measure - the goddess’s ratio in coiled form.
Key point for the reader:
The number twelve in ancient myth or scripture is a cipher for the hidden architecture of phi - the goddess’s mathematics preserved in plain sight - disguised beneath the surface reading of zodiac or calendar.
8. ‘Manetho’ – The Masked Measurer of Time
The principle of Ma’at governs not only spatial proportion but also the measure of time. In Egyptian tradition, the ordered record of reigns and events was a sacred task: history itself arranged in balance.
In the Greco-Roman period, this role appears under the name ‘Manetho’, credited as an Egyptian priest-historian who compiled the dynastic king lists in Greek. No contemporary Egyptian source attests to his existence, and no manuscript of his supposed Aegyptiaca survives. Everything attributed to him comes only through much later writers - Josephus, Africanus, Eusebius, Syncellus - all working within the same Roman–Church framework that repeatedly reshaped history.
This absence places ‘Manetho’ within the archetype of the pseudonymous authority: a figure invented to front the redated and reframed presentation of Egyptian knowledge, just as ‘Pythagoras’, ‘Fibonacci’, and ‘Berossus’ serve in other contexts. His Greek name aligns with manthánō (‘to learn’), the root of math- in mathēma (‘that which is learned’) and mathēmatikos (‘mathematical’). In this light, ‘Manetho’ reads less as a personal name and more as a linguistic code - the ‘learning/measuring one’ - designed to present the restructured Egyptian chronology under a Greek intellectual veneer.
Symbolically, the name functions like the number twelve in myth: a code hiding the older system it replaces. The true continuity of Egypt’s sacred mathematics and ordered time - the living Ma’at - is recast in a later tongue, under the mask of a man who may never have existed, while the underlying measure remains embedded for those who know how to read it.
9. A Speculative Note on Name and Root
Orthodox Greek etymology derives mathēma (‘that which is learned’) from the verb manthánō (‘to learn’), with the change from manth- to math- explained as a regular morphological drop of the nasal consonant. Within Greek, this is linguistically sound.
However, it is possible that the math- element pre-dates Greek entirely. In this view, math- could be linked to Ma’at, the Egyptian principle of cosmic order and measure. The ‘n’ in manth- might then have entered through Greek verb formation, or from grafting with nata/natan (‘to bring forth’), giving the sense of ‘bringing forth order/learning’.
If this is so, manthánō would be a Hellenised form encoding an older, cross-cultural root: the act of producing or manifesting Ma’at. In parallel, Greek mythos (‘story, word’) may also drift from the same root, representing the ordered truth of Ma’at expressed in narrative form.
This reading - though speculative and not provable - offers a different logic: math and myth are twin expressions of Ma’at, one numerical, one narrative. In such a framework, ‘Manetho’ becomes a composite code-name: Ma’at (order) + natan (‘bring forth’) + Greek morphology, denoting ‘the one who brings forth measured order’.
The Mask of Authority – from scripture to chronicle
The ‘named author’ or ‘great man’ is often a public face for an older office, rite, or body of knowledge. Where sources are late, partisan, or exclusively Greco-Roman–Church, names frequently function as masks. The same logic that turns temple geometry into story turns ritual roles into persons.
The fingerprint of the mask
The most telling sign is this: all original works are lost, and the only surviving material comes to us through quotations or paraphrases by late, partisan, and often openly propagandistic intermediaries - yet academia still presents both the ‘author’ and their supposed work as historically authentic.
When the surviving source chain is composed solely of known redactors such as Eusebius, Josephus, Africanus, or their equivalents, and these are treated not as hostile witnesses but as reliable preservers, we are almost certainly dealing with a constructed persona. The loss of the original is not an accident but the opportunity - it removes the means to test the redaction, allowing the mask to stand unchallenged.
How to recognise a mask
• First secure mention is late and mediated by agendaed redactors.
• The ‘life’ aligns with a ritual office more than a plausible biography.
• The name carries code signals that match the function.
• The tale serves a clear political or ecclesial utility at the moment it appears.
• Chronology is telescoped or conveniently re-dated to claim priority.
• Math, measure, or calendar knowledge sits beneath the narrative surface.
• And most tellingly - the original text or record is gone, and the only testimony comes from the hands of those with motive to reshape it.
Representative cross-section
• ‘Manetho’ – priest-historian as masked measurer of time. Attested only in later Greco-Roman–Church writers. Name reads as a learning-measure code. Status: probable mask.
• ‘Pythagoras’ – school tradition recast as a single sage. Number, harmony, and temple measure personified. Status: probable mask.
• ‘Fibonacci’ – ancient sequences and ratios re-presented under a medieval Italian name for Latin Europe. Status: probable mask.
• ‘Berossus’ – Hellenistic priest-historian parallel to ‘Manetho’, preserved by later compilers. Status: probable mask.
• ‘Solomon’ – temple-founder king as container for older foundation rites with the goddess measurer suppressed. Status: attested redaction, with mask elements.
• ‘Moses’ – serpent, staff, and lawgiver mapped onto earlier river-and-axis rites; zodiacal and calendrical coding present. Status: speculative but coherent.
• Pauline pastorals and certain catholic epistles – widely disputed authorship even in orthodox scholarship; office voice presented as singular person. Status: attested redaction with probable mask strata.
• Early saint cycles – vitae that replicate agricultural and water rites, sacred geography, and axis-raising motifs under sanctity narratives. Status: probable mask across multiple cults.
• Northumbrian royal lists to Cuthbert – Bede’s sacral kingship and hagiography interweave legitimacy claims with miracle-topography and seasonal rites. Status: speculative but coherent for selected figures.
Why the system exists
Masks let rulers and priesthoods seize custody of older knowledge. By naming a man, dating him conveniently, and giving him a life, they hide the office and the rite. The measure remains but the mother of measure is removed. Math becomes myth in prose form, and Ma’at becomes ‘history’.
Research guidance for the reader
Treat any celebrated ‘first’ as a likely last in a long chain. Read the name for code. Test the story against the rite. Look for the stars, the number, and the water. And remember the fingerprint: when no originals survive and all you have is the word of the redactor, you are likely looking at a mask. Unless there is primary evidence, remain sceptical, and do not be swayed by academic consensus that claims as truth what may be only one interpretation of the evidence.
This work seeks a consistency of logic from tangential evidence and does not accept consensus assertions as factual unless they are supported directly or indirectly by reasoned demonstration. If a better logical explanation exists, it is more likely than consensus - and therefore it is preferred. If this author has erred and there is data that falsifies this assumption, he welcomes it and is willing to review and revise his conclusions.
What has this to do with the Drift Eastwards into China?
Whilst the roots of myth, typology, and etymology emerged in the West - later culminating in distorted forms within the Judeo-Christian religions and, subsequently, Islam - the eastward drift preserves many of these same forms in an earlier, less-altered state. In the East, they often survive closer to their original expression, retaining phonemic and etymological markers that reveal when and from where these elements entered China.
This restoration aims to show the Egyptian presence in the East as traces of those earlier forms, from an age prior to the distortions. By applying the continuity lens developed in the Western analysis, patterns and connections emerge which conventional frameworks tend to downplay or dismiss as coincidence.
The difference is one of method and emphasis: in the West, the goddess and her symbols were largely erased or inverted; in the East, they often remained visible but their significance was obscured, their forms reduced to mystical or decorative motifs while a strict male-only hierarchy governed society. Both approaches served the same end - the control of knowledge and the elevation of the ruling elite - but left different archaeological and linguistic fingerprints.
If one is trained to see only the Greek, Hebraic, and Latin origins - as exemplified in the Bible and amplified continually by academic consensus - one fails to perceive the Egyptian influence in the Western branch. By the same limitation, one also fails to recognise the Egyptian root as it branched eastward into China.
4 Authors who saw the Drift
Gerald Massey, Donald A. Mackenzie, L. A. Waddell and Acharya S/D. M. Murdock all recognised the presence of Western Sumero–Babylonian and Egyptian forms within Chinese tradition.
Donald A. Mackenzie contributed significant depth to the cultural chronology of this diffusion. His work focused on the convergence of age-cycles, sun-kings, flood myths, and cosmological triads across Mesopotamia, India, and China. He positioned Krishna, Tammuz, and Osiris within a class of agricultural and solar deities whose life–death–rebirth sequences regulated both ritual and agricultural calendars.
Mackenzie argued that the Babylonian concept of a Great Year was structurally identical to the Hindu Yugas and the Chinese cosmic cycles. He drew parallels between the Babylonian triad of Anu–Enlil–Ea and the Hindu triad of Brahma–Vishnu–Shiva, and noted similar triadic deities in early Chinese mythology, including Fuxi, Nuwa, and Shennong. He regarded the Buddhist cosmological structure of Mount Meru, the concentric world continents, and the turning of the dharma wheel as directly influenced by Mesopotamian axis-mundi typology and Indo-Iranian astronomical systems. He also argued that the Chinese concept of the Mandate of Heaven - whereby the ruler was deposed when failing to maintain cosmic order - was a continuation of the same mythological logic that defined divine kingship in Sumer and Egypt. Mackenzie further suggested that Chinese calendar systems, including the sexagenary cycle and solar–lunar harmonics, reflected an inherited framework from Babylonian and Vedic roots.
His analysis rested not on specific events or names but on the underlying parallels of mythic, calendrical, and cosmological systems across Eurasia. Together, these four researchers provided a combined model of transmission in which the symbols, deities, cosmologies, and ritual orders of Egypt and Mesopotamia entered India early and moved eastward in layered phases - sometimes transformed by local conditions but still recognisably derived from earlier prototypes. From divine kingship to solar triads, from resurrection myths to cosmic mountains, the patterns reappear with sufficient regularity across Vedic, Indo–Chinese, and early Chinese contexts to support a reading of cultural memory and mythic recurrence. The material may differ, the names may shift, but the forms persist.
Waddell also argued that Indian epic memory preserved the legacy of early Sumerian kingship structures. He identified the Mahabharata and Ramayana as semi-historicised transformations of earlier Mesopotamian dynastic cycles, particularly the king-as-god model that had been ritualised in the Near East. In his analysis, the Kuru–Panchala kings of the Ganges basin were direct successors to Sumerian and Hittite ruling elites who had migrated eastward and established themselves as the priest-kings of early Vedic India. These dynasties, he claimed, instituted calendrical systems, sacrificial rites, coinage economies, and temple infrastructures that bore continuity with Babylonian and Anatolian forms. He referred to royal titulature, city layouts, and the use of divine solar symbols - such as the wheel (chakra), the lion, the mountain, and the serpent - as shared signifiers found from the Levant to Bihar.
In East Asia, Waddell claimed that the dynasty-building priesthoods of early China had been influenced by Aryan elements imported through both migration and trade. He pointed to the presence of Indo-Aryan words in Chinese place names, such as the coastal city of Lang-ga, and suggested that this represented not only linguistic but also cultural transfer. The Indo-Aryan traders, according to Waddell, brought the concept of divine kingship based on solar lineage, the organisation of society around Vedic varna systems, and the alphabetic script traditions of the Indic world, which influenced early Chinese proto-writing in specific port regions. He further held that the development of Buddhist ritual and monastic forms in China bore Indian and ultimately Sumerian–Egyptian structural elements, particularly in the preservation of numerological systems (such as triads, septads, and decads), the construction of sacred geometries (e.g., mandalas, cosmograms), and the deployment of sacral language in state ritual.
Acharya S extended this thesis by arguing that Krishna was not merely a local Vedic deity but a widely known solar figure whose typology resonated with earlier Sumerian and Egyptian gods, and whose cult likely extended along eastern trade routes long before the Christian era. She cited both textual evidence and missionary records documenting the conceptual similarity between Krishna and Christ. She highlighted that Krishna was described in Sanskrit texts as both the child of prophecy and the Logos - a cosmic instructor whose divine birth, mortal suffering, and eventual triumph over evil were symbolically identical to the mythic trajectory of Christ. She also noted that missionary encounters in India during the colonial period often recorded the widespread belief among Indian Brahmans that Christian stories had borrowed from Krishna, not the reverse.
In her reading, Krishna’s iconography and cosmological role - as the source of the eternal dharma, the guide of the warrior, the destroyer of illusion, and the final redeemer - paralleled the Egyptian roles of Horus as guide, Osiris as judge, and Ra as solar source. She further drew attention to the continuity between Krishna’s final avatar, Kalki, and apocalyptic messiah motifs in Near Eastern traditions. The white horse, the flaming sword, the cosmic battle between light and dark, and the final renewal of the world all appear in both Kalki imagery and the Book of Revelation. These motifs also recur in Persian traditions of the Saoshyant and in the late Mithraic mysteries of Rome. According to Acharya, the core typology - redeemer god, born of a virgin, persecuted at birth, leading a war of righteousness, bringing final judgment - was already established in Vedic India and inherited structurally from earlier Near Eastern solar theology. Her work aligns Krishna’s function with that of Horus as the triumphant son and of Mithra as the apocalyptic mediator, arguing that these typologies formed a consistent symbolic sequence transmitted across time and geography.
Gerald Massey’s contribution to this comparative study lies not in historical diffusionism but in his detailed reconstruction of the mythic structure underlying Egyptian religion. Massey maintained that the solar theology of Egypt was the origin of all later redemptive religious systems, including those of India and the Far East. Though he did not focus on Chinese culture, the internal logic of his framework makes it applicable to East Asian systems. Massey identified specific mythic types - such as the virgin-born son of the father god, the martyred judge, the resurrected king, and the cosmic mother - as recurring due to their original basis in astronomical observation and ritual performance. He documented how the yearly path of the sun, the rise and fall of Sirius, the precession of the solstices, and the phases of the moon were all ritualised in the Egyptian calendar, and that these events gave rise to the myths of Horus, Osiris, Isis, and Set.
He noted that the Egyptian term for the soul’s rebirth, karest, was cognate with the Greek Christos, and that the anointed figure of the afterlife - the son of god, wrapped in linen and resurrected on the third day - was not historical but symbolic. The anointing with oil, the passage through judgment, the weighing of the heart, and the ascent to heaven all appear first in Egyptian funerary texts and temple liturgies. Massey showed that Horus, as the child born of Isis at the solstice, was the original image of the light-in-darkness redeemer figure. He stated that the Djed pillar, representing the backbone of Osiris, was the first symbolic axis mundi, around which myths of resurrection and royal legitimacy were built. When applied to Chinese cosmology, these elements find resonance in the axial throne of the Son of Heaven, the Mandate based on celestial approval, and the ritual calendar tied to lunar and solar harmonics. Though Massey did not directly address these Eastern systems, his symbolic lexicon - composed of universal archetypes derived from natural cycles - overlaps with key elements in Chinese and Indian religious expression: the mountain as centre, the balance of opposites, the sacred triad, the divine mother and her child, and the concept of eternal return.
Donald Mackenzie’s work further contextualised these themes in terms of calendar systems and mythic cycles. He argued that both the Hindu Yuga system and the Chinese cosmic cycle shared a common origin with Babylonian time-reckoning traditions. He detailed how the concept of world ages - each ending in destruction and rebirth - appeared in Sumer, in Zoroastrianism, in the Vedic texts, and in early Chinese thought. Mackenzie compared the Great Year of 12,960 years in Babylonian astronomy with the Vedic fourfold Yuga system and the Chinese 60-year sexagenary calendar. In each case, he noted, the cycle was overseen by divine kings or avatars whose legitimacy came from their alignment with cosmic order.
Mackenzie also pointed out that flood myths appeared in virtually identical form in Mesopotamia, India, and China. In his analysis, these were not regional inventions but inherited narrative structures that accompanied the spread of early astronomical and religious systems. He examined the story of Manu in India - who survives the deluge with the help of a divine fish - and linked it to Utnapishtim in the Epic of Gilgamesh and to the Chinese account of Yu the Great taming the flood. All three figures are associated with the founding of moral order, the re-establishment of sacred kingship, and the regulation of agriculture through calendars and rites.
Mackenzie saw the early Chinese emperor as a priest-king whose role mirrored that of the pharaoh and the Vedic raja. His function was not merely administrative but cosmological: to maintain balance between heaven and earth through sacrifice, measurement, and ritual. The Chinese concept of tianming (Mandate of Heaven) reflected the same ideological structure found in the Egyptian concept of Ma’at and the Sumerian concept of Me - a divinely authorised ordering of the world that could be lost or revoked if the king failed to uphold cosmic harmony.
He traced the evolution of sacred kingship from god-as-king to king-as-divine-mediator, showing how the ruler’s position shifted alongside the complexity of the surrounding mythos. In early Egypt, the pharaoh was Horus incarnate. In Mesopotamia, the king was the representative of Anu or Marduk. In Vedic India, the raja was the son of Surya or Varuna. In early Chinese myth, Yao, Shun, and Yu were chosen by Heaven, possessed of moral excellence and ritual precision, and credited with harmonising the elements and bringing peace to the realm. All were described in the same terms: virtuous, luminous, aligned with cosmic time.
In examining Chinese myth through this lens, Mackenzie noted further correspondences: the Jade Emperor as a celestial father god; the three sovereigns and five emperors as moral exemplars with divine sanction; and the importance of trigrams, tetragrams, and hexagrams in expressing changes in the field of reality - a structure aligned with Mesopotamian omen systems and Vedic mantra sequences. The I Ching, based on sixty-four hexagrams, encoded a system of binary alternation, cyclical renewal, and cosmic rhythm that mirrored the Egyptian calendar, the Sumerian omens, and the Vedic use of number and mantra as tools of alignment.
Together, these four sources - Waddell’s civilisational migration theory, Massey’s archetypal coding, Acharya S’s cross-mythic parallels, and Mackenzie’s structural calendars - form a cohesive evidential field. Their findings converge on a model of eastward transmission, not as direct borrowing but through the survival and re-expression of core symbolic, linguistic, and ritual structures. These manifest consistently in royal ideology, mythic narrative, sacred time, divine titles, cosmography, and ritual liturgy. From Egypt to China, from Sumer to the Shang court, from Vedic chants to Daoist alchemy, the structural signatures repeat.
Waddell provides explicit dating for the Indo-Aryan arrival in China. In 680 BCE, a colony of Hindu sea-traders established themselves on the southern coast of China in the Gulf of Kiaochow. They founded a settlement called Lang-ga (named after Lanka, i.e., Ceylon) and opened trade to Shantung province. By 675 BCE, they had introduced coinage into China for the first time, later forming monetary unions that bore both Indian and Chinese city names. This, he argued, evidences not only economic but also cultural colonisation, as the coinage system originated in Lydia on the coast of Asia Minor - implying a direct link from Anatolia to India, and then on to China.
These same Kurus and Panchalas, identified by Waddell as ruling the Ganges region around 800–700 BCE, are said to have brought with them an already-formed system of late Sumerian and Hittite civilisation, including writing, priesthood, astronomical rites, and state administration. This corresponds with the sudden emergence of structured civilisation in Eastern India during that same period, including in Bengal and the Deccan.
On the diffusion of Indian culture to the broader Southeast Asian world, Waddell points out that the scripts of Burma, Thailand, Cambodia, and Java were written left to right in alphabets derived from Indo-Aryan scripts - not Chinese - and that the core religion of these regions was Indian Buddhism, written and chanted in Pali. Canon Taylor confirmed that early Korean and Japanese alphabets were also of Indian origin before the later adoption of Chinese logographs.
These cultural systems - alphabetic writing, Pali ritual, solar symbols in art and temple design - date back to at least the 6th century BCE, anchored by Buddhist missionary networks and merchant routes that expanded after the Mauryan empire.
Mackenzie, writing in Myths of Babylonia and Assyria, provided a forensic decoding of flood myths as astronomical ciphers. He observed that both the Babylonian King List and the Indian Puranas list ten kings before the flood, each with lifespans in the tens of thousands of years. These are not meant as literal reigns but as encoded celestial cycles. Mackenzie interpreted these durations - for example, 28,800, 36,000, and 432,000 years - as representations of sidereal and lunar–solar cycles, especially those linked to Sumer’s base-60 sexagesimal system. The flood, in this view, was not historical but a reset event - a zero point in a repeating cosmic calendar.
He connected these cycles to the Indian Yuga system, where the Maha Yuga totals 4,320,000 years, mirroring 120 saros of 3,600 years each - the exact number found in the Sumerian flood chronology. He showed that this shared cosmological framework extended from Mesopotamia to India and into China, where similar structures governed imperial calendars and mandate cycles.
In China, Mackenzie identified cosmological triads, ruler–sacrifice rituals, flood myths, and the concept of the Mandate of Heaven as inherited structures. He specifically highlighted Emperor Yu the Great as a mythic flood-tamer and culture-bringer whose role mirrors that of Manu in India and Utnapishtim in Mesopotamia. All three save humanity from cosmic dissolution, receive sacred law, and inaugurate a new age of calendrical order. In each tradition, the king is also an astronomer-priest - an axis figure who mediates between heaven and earth by maintaining ritual, celestial alignment, and agricultural fertility.
In Babylon, this was Marduk’s priest-king; in Egypt, the pharaoh as Horus; in India, the solar-dynasty raja; and in China, the Son of Heaven. Mackenzie saw the I Ching’s sixty-four hexagrams as a binary cosmogram encoding the same cyclical principles as the Vedic mandala and Babylonian omen tablets.
Gerald Massey, though focused on Egypt, identified specific motifs that reappeared in Christian and Vedic traditions and can also be observed structurally in China. He described Horus as being transfigured, crucified between two thieves, resurrected after three days, and presented as the ‘Son of God,’ ‘Good Shepherd,’ ‘Word made flesh,’ and ‘Anointed One’ (KRST) - all terms later attributed to Christ.
Massey documented the Luxor reliefs showing Thoth announcing Isis’s conception by the divine spirit (Kneph), followed by a nativity scene with Isis and the infant Horus adored by three kings bearing gifts. The ‘three kings’ motif also appears in Chinese tradition. These visual and textual structures - Annunciation, Virgin Birth, Resurrection - were already in use by 1500 BCE. Massey argued that they were later adapted into Greco–Roman mystery religions and then literalised into Christian history.
Although Massey did not explicitly track these motifs into Asia, the same structures appear in Vedic texts - Krishna's miraculous birth, flight from persecution, ascension, and return - and in East Asian depictions of cosmic kingship and mother–child imagery, such as Kwan Yin with the infant.
In summary, Waddell provides dated migration and trade–colony evidence, especially the Indo–Aryan foundation of Lang-ga and Tsih-moh in China by 675 BCE. Acharya offers dense typological parallels supported by textual and phonetic data. Massey charts the structural recurrence of myth through calendrical, visual, and linguistic forms. Mackenzie decodes the flood and age–cycles as astronomical frameworks, showing that sacred kingship and cyclical time were codified through narrative long before the formation of institutional religions. All agree - implicitly or explicitly - that the systems found in early China were not unique inventions, but late echoes of patterns already visible in Egypt, Sumer, and Vedic India.
Before turning to the next stage of this analysis, it is worth noting that these findings do more than demonstrate cultural transmission. They also provide the basis for a deeper critique of how and why certain symbols, measures, and mythic forms were preserved, reinterpreted, or suppressed - a question that becomes unavoidable when the same patterns are visible from the Nile to the Yellow River.
Conclusion
For over a century, so-called ‘fringe’ scholars have presented compelling evidence of Egyptian-derived culture in East Asia, particularly in China. Yet mainstream academia has resisted, maintaining a separatist view that isolates civilisations from one another. The evidence now stands that the symbolic, linguistic, and ritual structures of Egypt’s ancient culture travelled eastward, surviving in altered but recognisable form - and that this continuity offers a more coherent explanation than the consensus view.
To reveal the continuity is also to reveal suppression - a tactic long used by religion. The well-documented Roman Catholic frauds are admitted only insofar as they can be portrayed as isolated events in the Church’s struggle for dominance, often justified as ‘pious frauds’ intended to guide the laity toward accepting supposed ultimate truths.
The evidence brought forward by these independent scholars opens the entire framework of religious dominance to scrutiny. It challenges the legitimacy not only of theology but of consensus history itself, exposing both as part of a wider suppression of the ancient wisdom of our Drift Culture. If we can identify the archetypes of Egypt explicitly expressed in China, we also expose the parallels between these and the fabricated histories imposed after the rupture - histories that collapse under logical examination.
By aligning tangential evidence from modern academic disciplines such as genetics, archaeology, and comparative studies, a new and more coherent picture emerges - one that fundamentally challenges the lingering influence of religion in academia. Consensus viewpoints, when tested against this continuity, are critically undermined.
This work has aimed to reframe the evidence through a lens that reveals a consistent cultural thread, one better supported than many mainstream interpretations. Our next step will be to move further into China to see what emerges - and what we find will include overt Egyptian forms such as the words Tuat, Hu, and the expression of mythos as mathematics, directly linking East and West in ways often far earlier than conventionally accepted.
We will also see that China experienced a similar process of suppression, redaction, and the retro-framing of history during periods of social reordering under exclusively male kingship - a pattern that will be examined in detail in the next section.
