Showing posts with label Emperors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emperors. Show all posts

Sunday, 31 March 2019

Luke : The Mytho-Historical Warrior-Shaman

A Mighty Prophet Before The Force
In theology, apotheosis refers to the idea that an individual has been raised to godlike stature. 
The long-deceased heroes linked with founding myths of Greek sites were accorded chthonic rites in their heroon, or “hero-temple”.

Myth today has come to have negative connotations which are the complete opposite of its meaning in a religious context... In a religious context, however, myths are storied vehicles of supreme truth, the most basic and important truths of all. By them people regulate and interpret their lives and find worth and purpose in their existence. 

Myths put one in touch with sacred realities, the fundamental sources of being, power, and truth. They are seen not only as being the opposite of error but also as being clearly distinguishable from stories told for entertainment and from the workaday, domestic, practical language of a people. They provide answers to the mysteries of being and becoming, mysteries which, as mysteries, are hidden, yet mysteries which are revealed through story and ritual. 

Myths deal not only with truth but with ultimate truth.

In theology, apotheosis refers to the idea that an individual has been raised to godlike stature. In art, the term refers to the treatment of any subject (a figure, group, locale, motif, convention or melody) in a particularly grand or exalted manner.


Further information: imperial cult and divine king
Before the Hellenistic period, imperial cults were known in Ancient Egypt (pharaohs) and Mesopotamia (since Naram-Sin). From the New Kingdom, all deceased pharaohs were deified as the god Osiris.

Ancient Greece

Main article: Greek hero cult
From at least the Geometric period of the ninth century BC, the long-deceased heroes linked with founding myths of Greek sites were accorded chthonic rites in their heroon, or “hero-temple”.

In the Greek world, the first leader who accorded himself divine honours was Philip II of Macedon. At his wedding to his sixth wife, Philip’s enthroned image was carried in procession among the Olympian gods; “his example at Aigai became a custom, passing to the Macedonian kings who were later worshipped in Greek Asia, from them to Julius Caesar and so to the emperors of Rome”. Such Hellenistic state leaders might be raised to a status equal to the gods before death (e.g., Alexander the Great) or afterwards (e.g., members of the Ptolemaic dynasty). A heroic cult status similar to apotheosis was also an honour given to a few revered artists of the distant past, notably Homer.

Archaic and Classical Greek hero-cults became primarily civic [tied to the Mytho-Historical Founder of a City-State] extended from their familial origins, in the sixth century; by the fifth century none of the worshipers based their authority by tracing descent back to the hero, with the exception of some families who inherited particular priestly cults, such as the Eumolpides (descended from Eumolpus) of the Eleusinian mysteries, and some inherited priesthoods at oracle sites. The Greek hero cults can be distinguished on the other hand from the Roman cult of dead emperors, because the hero was not thought of as having ascended to Olympus or become a god: he was beneath the earth, and his power purely local. For this reason hero cults were chthonic in nature, and their rituals more closely resembled those for Hecate and Persephone than those for Zeus and Apollo. 

Two exceptions were Heracles and Asclepius, who might be honoured as either gods or heroes, sometimes by chthonic night-time rites and sacrifice on the following day.

Ancient Rome

Main article: Imperial cult (ancient Rome)
Up to the end of the Republic, Romans accepted only one official apotheosis: the god Quirinus, whatever his original meaning, having been identified with Romulus. Subsequently, apotheosis in ancient Rome was a process whereby a deceased ruler was recognized as having been divine by his successor, usually also by a decree of the Senate and popular consent. In addition to showing respect, often the present ruler deified a popular predecessor to legitimize himself and gain popularity with the people. The upper-class did not always take part in the imperial cult, and some privately ridiculed the apotheosis of inept and feeble emperors, as in the satire The Pumpkinification of (the Divine) Claudius, usually attributed to Seneca.

At the height of the imperial cult during the Roman Empire, sometimes the emperor’s deceased loved ones—heirs, empresses, or lovers, as Hadrian’s Antinous—were deified as well. Deified people were awarded posthumously the title Divus (Diva if women) to their names to signify their divinity. Traditional Roman religion distinguished between a deus (god) and a divus (a mortal who became divine or deified), though not consistently. Temples and columns were erected to provide a space for worship.

Ancient China

The Ming dynasty epic Investiture of the Gods deals heavily with deification legends. Numerous mortals have been deified into the Daoist pantheon, such as Guan Yu, Iron-crutch Li and Fan Kuai. Song Dynasty General Yue Fei was deified during the Ming Dynasty and is considered by some practitioners to be one of the three highest ranking heavenly generals.

DATHON [on monitor]: 
Darmok at Tanagra.

TAMARIAN [on monitor]: 
Shaka! Mirab, his sails unfurled.

DATHON [on monitor]: 

TAMARIAN [on monitor]: 

Freeze. Darmok.

Darmok. Well, it seems to be a point of contention between them. Perhaps something the Tamarian captain proposed that the First Officer didn't like.

The apparent emotional dynamic does seem to support that assumption. As with the other terms used by the Tamarian, this appears to be a proper noun. The name clearly carries a meaning for them.

Computer, search for the term Darmok in all linguistic databases for this sector.

Searching. Darmok is the name of a seventh dynasty emperor on Kanda Four. A mytho-historical hunter on Shantil Three. A colony on Malindi Seven. A frozen dessert on Tazna Five. A

Stop search. Computer, how many entries are there for Darmok?

COMPUTER: Forty seven.

All our technology and experience, our universal translator, our years in space, contacts with more alien cultures than I can even remember.

I have encountered one thousand, seven hundred fifty four non-human races during my tenure with Starfleet.

And we still can't even say hello to these people.


A single word can lead to tragedy. 
One word misspoken or misunderstood. 
And that could happen here, Data, if we fail.

Replay at time index one four four.

DATHON [on monitor]: 
Darmok at Tanagra.

Freeze. Computer, search for the term Tanagra. All databases.

Searching. Tanagra. The ruling family on Gallos Two. A ceremonial drink on Lerishi Four. An island-continent on Shantil Three —

Stop. Shantil Three. Computer, cross-reference the last entry with the previous search index.

Darmok is the name of a mytho-historical hunter on Shantil Three.

I think we've got something.

What did you find out?

The Tamarian ego structure does not seem to allow what we normally think of as self-identity. 

Their ability to abstract is highly unusual. 
They seem to communicate through narrative imagery by reference to the individuals and places which appear in their mytho-historical accounts.

It's as if I were to say to you, Juliet on her balcony.

An image of romance.

Exactly. Imagery is everything to the Tamarians. 
It embodies their emotional states, their very thought processes. 
It's how they communicate, and it's how they think.

If we know how they think, shouldn't we be able to get something across to them?

No, sir. The situation is analogous to understanding the grammar of a language but none of the vocabulary.

If I didn't know who Juliet was or what she was doing on that balcony, the image alone wouldn't have any meaning.

That's correct. 
For instance, we know that Darmok was a great hero, a hunter
and that Tanagra was an island
but that's it. 

Without the details, there's no understanding.

It is necessary for us to learn the narrative from which the Tamarians drawing their imagery. 
Given our current relations, that does not appear likely.

[Planet surface]

(Night has fallen, a fire is lit and Dathon is lying down.)

Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra.

Our situation is similar to theirs. 
I understand that. But I need to know more. You must tell me more about Darmok and Jalad. Tell me. 

You used the words, 'Temba, his arms wide' when you gave me the knife and the fire. Could that mean give? 

Temba, his arms wide. Darmok. Give me more about Darmok.

Darmok on the ocean.

(draws on the soil) 
The ocean. Darmok on the ocean. A metaphor? For being alone? Isolated? Darmok on the ocean.

(Dathon writhes in pain.)

Are you all right?

Kiazi's children, their faces wet.

Temba, his arms open. 
Give me more about Darmok on the ocean.

Tanagra on the ocean. 
Darmok at Tanagra.

At Tanagra. A country? 
Tanagra on the ocean. 
An island. 

Temba, his arms wide.

Jalad on the ocean. 
Jalad at Tanagra.

Jalad at Tanagra. 
He went to the same island as Darmok. 
Darmok and Jalad Tanagra.

The beast at Tanagra.

The beast? 

There was a creature at Tanagra? 

Darmok and Jalad, the beast of Tanagra. 

They arrived separately. 

They struggled together against a common foe, the beast at Tanagra. 

Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra.

Darmok and Jalad on the ocean.

They left together. 
Darmok and Jalad on the ocean.

The ocean. (another spasm) 
Zinda! His face black, his eyes red. 
Callimas at Bahar.

You hoped this would happen, didn't you? 
You knew there was a dangerous creature on this planet and you knew from the tale of Darmok that a danger shared might sometimes bring two people together. 

Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra. 
You and me, here, at El-Adrel.

Kira at Bashi. 
Temba, his arms wide.

My turn? No, I'm not much of a story teller. Besides, you wouldn't understand. Shaka. when the walls fell. Perhaps that doesn't matter. You want to hear it anyway. There's a story, a very ancient one, from Earth. I'll try and remember it. Gilgamesh, a king. Gilgamesh, a king, at Uruk. He tormented his subjects. He made them angry. They cried out aloud, send us a companion for our king. Spare us from his madness. Enkidu, a wild man from the forest, entered the city. They fought in the temple. They fought in the street. Gilgamesh defeated Enkidu. They became great friends. Gilgamesh and Enkidu at Uruk.

At Uruk.

The new friends went out into the desert together, where the great bull of heaven was killing men by the hundreds. Enkidu caught the bull by the tail. Gilgamesh struck it with his sword.


They were victorious. But Enkidu fell to the ground, struck down by the gods. And Gilgamesh wept bitter tears, saying, 'he who was my companion through adventure and hardship, is gone forever.

(And so Dathon dies.)

These are the hidden words that the living Jesus spoke. 

And Didymos Judas Thomas wrote them down. 

“Not until the male becomes female and the female becomes male shall ye enter The Kingdom of Heaven.”

—The Gospel of Thomas

Saturday, 23 March 2019

Narcissistic Fathers

Narcissistic Fathers – 
Healing Yourself and Protecting Your Children From A Toxic Upbringing

"I'm not sure if it's a coincidence that Me and Stephen [Spielberg] grew up in the same environment - same with Marty [Scorsese].

Well, a Director is just someone who has a fetish about making The World the way he wants it - Sort of Narcissistic."

That's you....?

"All Directors....

They're vaugely like Emperors."

"We are all Redeemed Through Our Children....
I Genuinely Believe That."

- Lucas.

George Lucas is Crazy.

He identifies with Don Quixote
An Old Man with Dementia who thought he could Save The World from an epidemic of incivility simply by acting like a Knight.

His Religion was Decency.

And he spent a lifetime fighting its Enemies.

I wish he could be here to learn the name of his successor like I just did.

Our new boss, the new president of ACN, is MacKenzie McHale.

So This fight is just getting started.
'Cause he taught the rest of us to be crazy, too.

You are a Man, George.
You are a Great, Big Man.


Friday, 15 March 2019


Lord Aukon himself is here.

(Aukon enters and inspects the line.)

Interesting -

(He goes back to Adric.)

Lord AUKON : 
A mind that shields itself.
 One who pretends to be a dull and stupid peasant, 
but who is different.
Who, me?

Lord AUKON : 



Come with me.


Lord AUKON : 
Spirit too, I see. 

Come with you? 

What's in it for me?

Lord AUKON: 


Dominion over This World.... 

....and over Many Others. 

 Distant music, Brahms' lullaby, from the Rosner Brothers way down by the women's barracks calming the inhabitants. Up here on the balcony, Schindler and Goeth, the latter so drunk he can barely stand up, stare out over Goeth's dark kingdom.


They don't fear us because we have the power to kill, they fear us because we have the power to kill arbitrarily. 

A man commits a crime, he should know better.

We have him killed, we feel pretty good about it.

Or we kill him ourselves and we feel even better. 

That's not Power, though, that's Justice. 

That's different than Power. 

Power is when we have every justification to kill -- and we don't. 

That's Power.

That's what The Emperors had. 

A man stole something, he's brought in before the emperor, he throws himself down on the floor, he begs for mercy, he knows he's going to die... 

And The Emperor pardons him. 

This worthless man. 

He lets him go. 

That's Power. 

That's Power.
 It seems almost as though this temptation toward restraint, this image Schindler has brush-stroked of the merciful emperor, holds some appeal to Goeth. 

Perhaps, as he stares out over his camp, he imagines himself in the role, wondering what the power Schindler describes might feel like.

 Eventually, he glances over drunkenly, and almost smiles.


Amon the Good.


 A stable boy works to ready Goeth's horse before he arrives.

 He sticks a bridle into its mouth, throws a riding blanket onto its back, drags out the saddle Schindler bought Goeth.

 Before he can finish, though, Goeth is there. The boy tries to hide his panic; he knows others have been shot for less.

I'm sorry, sir, I'm almost done.


Oh, that's all right.

 As Goeth waits, patiently it seems, whistling to himself, the stable boy tries to mask his confusion.


 Goeth gallops around his great domain holding himself high in the saddle. But everywhere he looks, it seems, he's confronted with stoop-shouldered sloth. He forces himself to smile benevolently.


 Goeth comes into his bedroom sweating from his ride. A worker with a pail and cloth appears in the bathroom doorway.



I have to report, sir, I've been unable to remove the stains from your bathtub.

 Goeth steps past him to take a look. The worker is almost shaking, he's so terrified of the violent reprisal he expects to receive.


What are you using?


Soap, sir.


Soap? Not lye?

 The worker hasn't a defense for himself. 

Goeth's hand drifts down as if by instinct to the gun in his holster. 

He stares at the worker. 

He so wants to shoot him he can hardly stand it, right here, right in the bathroom, put some more stains on the porcelain. 

He takes a deep breath to calm himself.

 Then gestures grandly.

Go ahead, go on, leave. 

I pardon you.
 The worker hurries out with his pail and cloth. Goeth just stands there for several moments -- trying to feel the power of emperors he's supposed to be feeling. 

But he doesn't feel it. 

All he feels is stupid.


 The worker hurries across the dying lawn outside the villa.

 He dares a glance back, and at that moment, a hand with a gun appears out the bathroom window and fires.

(Habris enters.)

My Lord, it is time.

How dare you interrupt us!

Aukon has seen The Sign. 
The Arising is at hand.

The Arising? Leave us.

(Habris leaves.)

We must go to him.

We shall resume this later. 
If you need anything, there are guards outside the door. 

Many guards.

The Great 1 :
You took the one, last 
PERFECT Crystal of POWER. 

I searched all Time, and all Space for it....!!!

I MUST have it! 

The Established Dandy : 
No! No, never. 

You are PROUD, Little Man. 

I see that I shall have to teach you to have respect! 

Round you go, Doctor. 

No. No! 
No, I will not! 

(Against his will, the Doctor turns left, stepping high, as the Great One laughs.) 

No! No, I will not! No! 
(The Doctor has turned right round and back to where he started.) 

Is that FEAR I can feel in your mind...? 

You are not ACCUSTOMED to feeling FRIGHTENED, are you, Doctor? 

You are very WISE to be afraid of ME...!!!. 

Go now. You must hurry back and fetch the crystal. 

I MUST have it, don't you understand? 

I must have it! I must! 
I must! I must! 

Go now. Go! 
Go! Go NOW! 

We are all apt to surrender ourselves to domination. 
Even the strongest of us. 

...Do you mean me? 

Not all spiders sit on the back. 

Oh, I don't understand. You're not saying they've taken over The Doctor, are you? 

Oh no, Sarah, no. 
No, he's talking about my GREED. 

Greed? You? 

Yes, my Greed for KNOWLEDGE , for INFORMATION. 

He's saying that all this is basically My Fault. 

If I hadn't taken the crystal in the first place.....

I know who you are now!

You were always a little slow on the uptake, my boy. 

Stop! Have you brought the crystal to me? 
Well if I had not, why should I have returned? 
Very well. Very well, advance. 
(The Doctor walks around a corner and sees the universes biggest spider.) 

I've brought you the crystal. 
Now why don't you just take it and leave the humans in peace, both here and on Earth? 

You think I care for the puny plans of my subjects? Earth? 

One paltry planet among millions? 
Give me the crystal. 
I thirst for it! 
I ache for it! 

Well, why is it so important to you? 

You see this web of crystal above my head? 
It reproduces the pattern of my brain. 
One perfect crystal and it will be complete. 
That is the perfect crystal I need. 

And then? 

My every thought will resonate within the web, and grow in power until, until, until....!!!

But you've built a positive feedback circuit. You're trying to increase your mental powers to infinity. 

I shall be the ruler of the entire universe! 

Now listen to me. Listen. 
I haven't got much time left. 

What you're trying to do is impossible. 

If you complete that circuit, the energy will build up and up until it cannot be contained. 
You will destroy yourself. 

 You waste the little time remaining to you. 
Even now the cave of crystal is destroying the cells of your body. 
I will grant you one last favour. 

You may watch the completion of my triumph before you die! 

(The crystal flies out of the Doctor's hand and becomes the keystone of the web lattice.) 

I am complete! 
Now I am total power! 
All praise to the Great One! 

Stop. Stop! 
Don't you see what's happened to you? 

All praise to the Great One! 
All praise to me! Bow down before me, planets! 
Bow down, stars! 
Bow down, all galaxies and worship the Great One! 
The me! The Great, all-powerful me! 


(The giant spider starts to glow red.) 

I hurt! Help me! 
I am burning! My brain is on fire! 

(The Doctor runs out of the cave.) 

Help me!

Compressed information, streaming into her. Reports from every city, every country, every planet, and they all get packaged inside her head. She becomes part of the software. Her brain is the computer. 

 If it all goes through her, she must be a genius. 
Nah, she wouldn't remember any of it. There's too much. Her head'd blow up. 
The brain's the processor. As soon as it closes, she forgets. 

So, what about all these people round the edge? 

They've all got tiny little chips in their head, connecting them to her and they transmit six hundred channels. 
Every single fact in the Empire beams out of this place. 
Now that's what I call power. 

I started without you. 
This is fascinating. 
Satellite Five contains every piece of information within the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. 
Birth certificates, shopping habits, bank statements, but you two, you don't exist. 
Not a trace. No birth, no job, not the slightest kiss. 
How can you walk through the world and not leave a single footprint? 

Suki. Suki! Hello? 
Can you hear me? Suki? 
What have you done to her? 

I think she's dead. 

She's working. 

They've all got chips in their head, and the chips keep going, like puppets. 

Oh! You're full of information. But it's only fair we get some information back, because apparently, you're no one. It's so rare not to know something. Who are you? 

It doesn't matter, because we're off. 
Nice to meet you. Come on. 

(Suki grabs Rose's arm. Two other zombies grab the Doctor.) 

EDITOR: Tell me who you are. 

DOCTOR: Since that information's keeping us alive, I'm hardly going to say, am I. 

EDITOR: Well, perhaps my Editor in Chief can convince you otherwise. 

DOCTOR: And who's that? 

It may interest you to know that this is not the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. In fact, it's not actually human at all. It's merely a place where humans happen to live. 

(Growl, snarl.) 

Yeah. Yeah, sorry. It's a place where humans are allowed to live by kind permission of my client. 
(Who we finally see is a giant lump hanging from the ceiling, with a very nasty set of teeth in a mouth on the end of a pseudopod.) 
ROSE: What is that? 
DOCTOR: You mean that thing's in charge of Satellite Five? 
EDITOR: That thing, as you put it, is in charge of the human race. For almost a hundred years, mankind has been shaped and guided, his knowledge and ambition strictly controlled by it's broadcast news, edited by my superior, your master, and humanity's guiding light, the mighty Jagrafess of the Holy Hadrojassic Maxarodenfoe. I call him Max. 
(Down on Floor 139 Adam avoids Cathica as she goes to take another look at the schematic that the Doctor called up. Then she goes to the lift and punches in the code for Floor 500. 
Meanwhile, the Doctor and Rose have been placed in hefty sets of manacles.) 
EDITOR: Create a climate of fear and it's easy to keep the borders closed. It's just a matter of emphasis. The right word in the right broadcast repeated often enough can destabilise an economy, invent an enemy, change a vote. 
ROSE: So all the people on Earth are like, slaves. 
EDITOR: Well, now, there's an interesting point. Is a slave a slave if he doesn't know he's enslaved? 
EDITOR: Oh. I was hoping for a philosophical debate. Is that all I'm going to get? Yes? 
EDITOR: You're no fun. 
DOCTOR: Let me out of these manacles. You'll find out how much fun I am. 
EDITOR: Oh, he's tough, isn't he. But, come on. Isn't it a great system? You've got to admire it, just a little bit. 
ROSE: You can't hide something on this scale. Somebody must have noticed. 
EDITOR: From time to time, someone, yes, but the computer chip system allows me to see inside their brains. I can see the smallest doubt and crush it. 
(Cathica arrives on Floor 500. Adam goes to the broadcast room on 139.) 
EDITOR: Then they just carry on, living the life, strutting about downstairs and all over the surface of the Earth like they're so individual, when of course, they're not. They're just cattle. In that respect, the Jagrafess hasn't changed a thing. 
(The Doctor and Rose spot Cathica behind the Editor's back.) 
ROSE: What about you? You're not a Jagrabelly 
DOCTOR: Jagrafess. 
ROSE: Jagrafess. You're not a Jagrafess. You're human. 
EDITOR: Yeah, well, simply being human doesn't pay very well. 
ROSE: But you couldn't have done this all on your own. 
EDITOR: No. I represent a consortium of banks. Money prefers a long-term investment. Also, the Jagrafess needed a little hand to install himself. 
DOCTOR: No wonder, a creature that size. What's his life span? 
EDITOR: Three thousand years. 
DOCTOR: That's one hell of a metabolism generating all that heat. That's why Satellite Five's so hot. You pump it out of the creature, channel it downstairs. Jagrafess stays cool, it stays alive. Satellite Five is one great big life support system.

[Adam's home]

(Adam settles in the broadcast chair and opens his portal, then phones home.) 
ADAM [OC]: It's me again. Don't wipe this message. It's just going to sound like white noise, but save it because I can


ADAM: Translate it, okay? Three, two, one and spike. 
(Information beams into Adam.)

[Floor 500]

EDITOR: But that's why you're so dangerous. Knowledge is power, but you remain unknown. Who are you? 
(The Editor snaps his fingers and energy surges through the manacles. Back in the now, the little dog watches energy encircling the telephone answering machine.) 
DOCTOR: Leave her alone. I'm the Doctor, she's Rose Tyler. We're nothing, we're just wandering. 
EDITOR: Tell me who you are! 
DOCTOR: I just said! 
EDITOR: Yes, but who do you work for? Who sent you? Who knows about us? Who exactly 
(He stops. The Jagrafess growls.) 
EDITOR: Time Lord. 
DOCTOR: What? 
EDITOR: Oh, yes. The last of the Time Lords in his travelling machine. Oh, with his little human girl from long ago 
DOCTOR: You don't know what you're talking about. 
EDITOR: Time travel.


(Adam screams as information is sucked out of his brain.) 
ADAM: Help!

[Floor 500]

DOCTOR: Someone's been telling you lies. 
EDITOR: Young master Adam Mitchell? 
(The Editor calls up the holo-monitor showing Adam in the broadcast chair.) 
ROSE: Oh, my God. His head! 
DOCTOR: What the hell's he done? What the hell's he gone and done? They're reading his mind. He's telling them everything. 
EDITOR: And through him, I know everything about you. Every piece of information in his head is now mine. And you have infinite knowledge, Doctor. The Human Empire is tiny compared to what you've seen in your T A R D I S. Tardis. 
DOCTOR: Well, you'll never get your hands on it. I'll die first. 
EDITOR: Die all you like. I don't need you. I've got the key. 
(The Tardis key rises from Adam's pocket.) 
DOCTOR: You and your boyfriends! 
EDITOR: Today, we are the headlines. We can rewrite history. We could prevent mankind from ever developing. 
DOCTOR: And no one's going to stop you because you've bred a human race that doesn't bother to ask questions. Stupid little slaves, believing every lie. They'll just trot right into the slaughter house if they're told it's made of gold. 
(The Jagrafess snarls, and Cathica leaves.)