The Great Tower at Kura Part II
No God
There was, as you may have already come to this conclusion, no god—that’s right—there was no God to speak of in this all-inclusive world order. The term for God, or deity, was never used, not prior to the great flood at least, not by the governing group from the Atlantic, not out-loud in Kura for the most part. If there was a supernatural being, very little was known of him, and where he was? If there was a secret society, it was taken out of the textbook that was found, that I Shark found, in the hollow of the Shark Mound. No one saw him [Him: being God]: and if they prayed to him, so be it, He evidently didn’t listen, and if He did, no one told the neighbors—no one knew what was on his mind, this God that people sometimes said never existed, if anything was on their minds for the salvation of the world it was the Atlantic Group whom wanted to be worshiped for the most part. There were rumors of course, of a God long ago, but then, there are always such things, is that not so: it was how they thought.
And so, there was not a God or a devil or for that matter, politicians, not even a military—as I have already mentioned, as one might expect a city-state to have; yet, there were what was called Watcher’s, or Regulator’s whom would bring you in front of an elected judge—that being, the Abolitionist of Kura would do this, but only if the crime was against the Atlantic Group, which was not excusable—for death lingered shortly after ones crime, and that was normally the judgment, no one fed a criminal either, it was not economically worthy to have done such a pathless feat: feed the enemy with your hard earned money, gold and pensions, for what, to have them rob or abuse the law again, it was better to rid society of the mess and work with the productive; if not needed for strenuous labor that is, in gold mines or in other such places.
And to be quite frank, very few got this privilege, and if they did work, they worked free the rest of their lives, if somehow allowed them to earn money along the way they could pay back their freedom if the slave owner was willing. This was all of course in agreement with the democracy. If it was against the city-state, the judge could judge it. Or the king of the province, or city-state for that matter: that is, they could hear it, and judge it. If the crime was against the Atlantic Group, s/he died and that was it (there was no favorites).
The ruling authorities lived on a mountain called Mt. Hermon, there were two hundred of them, and some of their offspring, sons and daughters lived on this big island continent in the Atlantic we have been looking at, ruled from this area, mostly by way of their spiritual fathers. They were said to be 2/3’s godlike and one third human, that is, the half-breeds on the island in the Atlantic. The two-hundred on Mt. Hermon were castaways, angelic renegades, with superhuman powers, and looked most angelic indeed, again to the inhabitants, godlike. This island, who ruled the world, by proxy, was by, or near what is known today know as the Azores.
By some kind of electrical transmutation that connected the pyramids to the towers on this Island in the Atlantic, communication was transferred from Mt. Hermon to the leaders of the Atlantic Group. In a like manner, it was transferred to the Great Tower, where a high-priest, whom had a long, very long skull, like those from the Atlantic-Island, would receive these messages, and bring the demands to the king, and his Security Counsel, and from there to the people, for the people. The king was elected by the Atlantic-Island, and usually was one of the humans, from—lets say—a city-state, in most cases from the Great Tower area; --yet not always, and the city’s Security Counsel, being of the inhabitants, had the most slaves of them all; there were fifteen members to rule this city-body.
Narn
Narn was but a child when he witnessed the Great Tower being build, and placed within his camp, for at that time it was not a city, rather a military camp, this was of course, before they had done-away with the military. And the Tower would do just that. The Tower was brought forward by these giants of sorts, sons of the supernatural beings on Mt. Hermon, and there they worked and were fed by the surrounding inhabitants. Fed sows and cows and every living beast and thing available until the city government of the Great Tower, of which now was being put into place was built.
The giants of the day had at times become so hungry they ate the humans whom could not bring them food quick enough. Some were so huge—they reached as high as six-hundred feet; others, on the lower side of the measuring scale, were between: thirteen to seventeen feet tall. All the huge ones would die in the battles that were yet to come (in the near future), their future to be, and prior to the great flood also, just ahead of them; they would battle against one another, killing all but the smaller giants. They, the giants were all evil-spirited.
Whatever the great structure was made of it would not chip, nor was it capable of rusting or becoming salt eaten from the great sea that lay beyond their reach: yet received the winds of salt from them: which would fill their gully, to become one day the Black Sea.
And so this once military site became a city in the makings.
Birth of a City
As time went on, and the city grew, Narn grew old, not necessary weak, or feeble, but like all on earth—like all mortals by and by we grow old with years, but not old by how man would consider him in today’s society, oh no, he was in the winter of his life, but it was only the beginning of winter for him; he was now 175-years old (for some odd reason the genetic structure of humankind ((back then)) did not cascade as it does nowadays). Age was relevant, that is to say, for the times it was common; possible 350-years could be a nice age to die at, or even longer. It would not be for a time yet when this no-God world would have a big-God change, and the rules also, for age would be lowered to one-hundred and twenty-years, maximum for life expediency, and that would hinge on good behavior, from the no-God residue.
Narn, had inherited from his father the only, and I say only in the highest regards, the only house that was allowed to be attached onto the Great Tower. None other, no other permanent fixture was ever connected to the Tower, only this one room shack of a house, made of brick and cedarwood. It measured two-hundred square feet, small in every respect. His father had built the house more as a tool shed, and was allowed to use it while helping with the design of the Great Tower, and the measuring that was needed during its construction, and planning stages. So respected was he, and he had done such a good job with the Atlantic-Group, and the giants even took favor to him, so respected was he, that the leaders of the two-hundred, of which there were fifteen-such leaders in all, all agreed it should remain as it was, the tiny house, possibly a touch of respect to show the city they had a heart, or possibly they wanted to appease the old man for he was influential. And no one dared violate this, not even after the two-hundred whom were destroyed by the no-God, the God the two-hundred said never existed, as they had proclaimed to the people they ruled over. This God that was no God, had an archangel, Ure’al who came down and buried alive the leaders of the two-hundred in the sands of the desert by Mt. Hermon, and for the rest, they were chained under rocks, and within the vaults of the earth. But for some unusual reason, the Atlantic civilization was left alone; although 50% of their power and influence was buried with their forefathers. And this in itself would prove to spark and trigger wars on the Pacific side of the great waters of the world, as well as in the Mediterranean, the Great Sea, along with many city-states, consequently the age of terror and war had started—it had arrived as all living humans knew someday it would. But nonetheless, a city was born.
And as the city grew, neighbors from all around came to see the Great Tower of Kura, and the little house that was attached to the Tower, and as time went on farther down memory’s path, and closer to the time of the Great Flood to be, people came from the all over the known world, from all walks of life, and from the other side of the world to see this global monument—this feat of feats, the cone-heads, or Atlantic-warriors, and priests, with the long skulls, and red hair, came also to worship at the Tower their fathers had left behind. The Long-fingers from the Pacific who had built 90-ton stone monuments of themselves came and moved them by levitation; and the people from the North came: everywhere, everyone came to see this world pilgrimage site.
At the same time the countryside was becoming armed, and more dangerous, and people even tried to take pieces of the house for souvenirs; until the king placed guards watching the visiting groups, individuals, as they came to see this great monument to a bygone era. As this all took root, and trade started to become a zigzagging ordeal, and no one keeping their contracts with one another, frustration grew, it became a world off its rotating axis, it was tilted now, and the Atlantic Group did nothing. No investments were being made, no institutions were being built. No mutilator structure was now in place for peace (where at one time civilization was a circle, there was no beginning or end all was joined together and if there was a seam, no one knew where). A world upside down, without an earthquake, that is how it was developing; it was a time of great squabbles, when generals dethroned kings, and became kings themselves, and the Atlantic authority could do little, but watch. It would seem man was the only creature that could light the world, or darken it, the only creature that could light a fire, was now dissolving to mud. Yet no one dared challenge the supernatural island in the Atlantic, the five members of the Permanent Security Counsel, where were all Atlanteon in nature, these five members were part of the fifteen member group. It had that privilege—of permanency, and that alone it would seem would destroy the world.
The Great Upheaval
And then came the great upheaval, and everyone somehow was looking for the no-God, they never knew, the one they pushed aside, the one they now said: “Yes, I did hear of Him.” The one they were forbidden to talk about, they all knew him now, they must have, they were praying to Him, for death was in the air, the scent of death reeked over the lands like a decaying cloud (from the cedar forests of Lebanon and Syria, to the land of the Nile and the cities of Uruk and Ur, and Troy; and the lands of Attica and Thessaly, Cyprus and Babylon, Susa and over the great rivers of the Euphrates and the Tigris, all of Elam). Some were praying to the Tower, others were raping and killing at will, as if the world was coming to an end, and doing what they always wanted to, but in fear of reprisal, held off. The rain pored, and the animals, the saber-tooth cats, and dogs and all wild creatures started to take over the earth as the waters from the heavens and from the surface poured. And the continents broke, and the North and South Pole’s were put into place, and Greenland was formed, thus
stopping the once warm airs of Europe to settle on the North American side of the world, so came the Arctic, which never existed before; all such things were never before. And as the world started to become torn apart, the Black Sea came into existence, and The Great Tower, the indestructible Tower was buried, buried by the no—God, buried in the sands of time—dragged into nothingness, hidden for all time in the Great Sea, the newly created Black Sea where it remains today—to this very day. Some say ships have seen it, and sank after hitting its top, or sides; not knowing what to make of it; yet, not many, if any have acknowledged it, where it is, not sure why, possibly because it was the ruminants of a global takeover by a supernatural race, a race no one wants to acknowledge existed. And so it remains as it is, out of sight out of mind, and mostly out of mind. Should it resurrect, so will this tale.
Note: A dream of sorts
Author and Poet: Dennis L. Siluk http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
No God
There was, as you may have already come to this conclusion, no god—that’s right—there was no God to speak of in this all-inclusive world order. The term for God, or deity, was never used, not prior to the great flood at least, not by the governing group from the Atlantic, not out-loud in Kura for the most part. If there was a supernatural being, very little was known of him, and where he was? If there was a secret society, it was taken out of the textbook that was found, that I Shark found, in the hollow of the Shark Mound. No one saw him [Him: being God]: and if they prayed to him, so be it, He evidently didn’t listen, and if He did, no one told the neighbors—no one knew what was on his mind, this God that people sometimes said never existed, if anything was on their minds for the salvation of the world it was the Atlantic Group whom wanted to be worshiped for the most part. There were rumors of course, of a God long ago, but then, there are always such things, is that not so: it was how they thought.
And so, there was not a God or a devil or for that matter, politicians, not even a military—as I have already mentioned, as one might expect a city-state to have; yet, there were what was called Watcher’s, or Regulator’s whom would bring you in front of an elected judge—that being, the Abolitionist of Kura would do this, but only if the crime was against the Atlantic Group, which was not excusable—for death lingered shortly after ones crime, and that was normally the judgment, no one fed a criminal either, it was not economically worthy to have done such a pathless feat: feed the enemy with your hard earned money, gold and pensions, for what, to have them rob or abuse the law again, it was better to rid society of the mess and work with the productive; if not needed for strenuous labor that is, in gold mines or in other such places.
And to be quite frank, very few got this privilege, and if they did work, they worked free the rest of their lives, if somehow allowed them to earn money along the way they could pay back their freedom if the slave owner was willing. This was all of course in agreement with the democracy. If it was against the city-state, the judge could judge it. Or the king of the province, or city-state for that matter: that is, they could hear it, and judge it. If the crime was against the Atlantic Group, s/he died and that was it (there was no favorites).
The ruling authorities lived on a mountain called Mt. Hermon, there were two hundred of them, and some of their offspring, sons and daughters lived on this big island continent in the Atlantic we have been looking at, ruled from this area, mostly by way of their spiritual fathers. They were said to be 2/3’s godlike and one third human, that is, the half-breeds on the island in the Atlantic. The two-hundred on Mt. Hermon were castaways, angelic renegades, with superhuman powers, and looked most angelic indeed, again to the inhabitants, godlike. This island, who ruled the world, by proxy, was by, or near what is known today know as the Azores.
By some kind of electrical transmutation that connected the pyramids to the towers on this Island in the Atlantic, communication was transferred from Mt. Hermon to the leaders of the Atlantic Group. In a like manner, it was transferred to the Great Tower, where a high-priest, whom had a long, very long skull, like those from the Atlantic-Island, would receive these messages, and bring the demands to the king, and his Security Counsel, and from there to the people, for the people. The king was elected by the Atlantic-Island, and usually was one of the humans, from—lets say—a city-state, in most cases from the Great Tower area; --yet not always, and the city’s Security Counsel, being of the inhabitants, had the most slaves of them all; there were fifteen members to rule this city-body.
Narn
Narn was but a child when he witnessed the Great Tower being build, and placed within his camp, for at that time it was not a city, rather a military camp, this was of course, before they had done-away with the military. And the Tower would do just that. The Tower was brought forward by these giants of sorts, sons of the supernatural beings on Mt. Hermon, and there they worked and were fed by the surrounding inhabitants. Fed sows and cows and every living beast and thing available until the city government of the Great Tower, of which now was being put into place was built.
The giants of the day had at times become so hungry they ate the humans whom could not bring them food quick enough. Some were so huge—they reached as high as six-hundred feet; others, on the lower side of the measuring scale, were between: thirteen to seventeen feet tall. All the huge ones would die in the battles that were yet to come (in the near future), their future to be, and prior to the great flood also, just ahead of them; they would battle against one another, killing all but the smaller giants. They, the giants were all evil-spirited.
Whatever the great structure was made of it would not chip, nor was it capable of rusting or becoming salt eaten from the great sea that lay beyond their reach: yet received the winds of salt from them: which would fill their gully, to become one day the Black Sea.
And so this once military site became a city in the makings.
Birth of a City
As time went on, and the city grew, Narn grew old, not necessary weak, or feeble, but like all on earth—like all mortals by and by we grow old with years, but not old by how man would consider him in today’s society, oh no, he was in the winter of his life, but it was only the beginning of winter for him; he was now 175-years old (for some odd reason the genetic structure of humankind ((back then)) did not cascade as it does nowadays). Age was relevant, that is to say, for the times it was common; possible 350-years could be a nice age to die at, or even longer. It would not be for a time yet when this no-God world would have a big-God change, and the rules also, for age would be lowered to one-hundred and twenty-years, maximum for life expediency, and that would hinge on good behavior, from the no-God residue.
Narn, had inherited from his father the only, and I say only in the highest regards, the only house that was allowed to be attached onto the Great Tower. None other, no other permanent fixture was ever connected to the Tower, only this one room shack of a house, made of brick and cedarwood. It measured two-hundred square feet, small in every respect. His father had built the house more as a tool shed, and was allowed to use it while helping with the design of the Great Tower, and the measuring that was needed during its construction, and planning stages. So respected was he, and he had done such a good job with the Atlantic-Group, and the giants even took favor to him, so respected was he, that the leaders of the two-hundred, of which there were fifteen-such leaders in all, all agreed it should remain as it was, the tiny house, possibly a touch of respect to show the city they had a heart, or possibly they wanted to appease the old man for he was influential. And no one dared violate this, not even after the two-hundred whom were destroyed by the no-God, the God the two-hundred said never existed, as they had proclaimed to the people they ruled over. This God that was no God, had an archangel, Ure’al who came down and buried alive the leaders of the two-hundred in the sands of the desert by Mt. Hermon, and for the rest, they were chained under rocks, and within the vaults of the earth. But for some unusual reason, the Atlantic civilization was left alone; although 50% of their power and influence was buried with their forefathers. And this in itself would prove to spark and trigger wars on the Pacific side of the great waters of the world, as well as in the Mediterranean, the Great Sea, along with many city-states, consequently the age of terror and war had started—it had arrived as all living humans knew someday it would. But nonetheless, a city was born.
And as the city grew, neighbors from all around came to see the Great Tower of Kura, and the little house that was attached to the Tower, and as time went on farther down memory’s path, and closer to the time of the Great Flood to be, people came from the all over the known world, from all walks of life, and from the other side of the world to see this global monument—this feat of feats, the cone-heads, or Atlantic-warriors, and priests, with the long skulls, and red hair, came also to worship at the Tower their fathers had left behind. The Long-fingers from the Pacific who had built 90-ton stone monuments of themselves came and moved them by levitation; and the people from the North came: everywhere, everyone came to see this world pilgrimage site.
At the same time the countryside was becoming armed, and more dangerous, and people even tried to take pieces of the house for souvenirs; until the king placed guards watching the visiting groups, individuals, as they came to see this great monument to a bygone era. As this all took root, and trade started to become a zigzagging ordeal, and no one keeping their contracts with one another, frustration grew, it became a world off its rotating axis, it was tilted now, and the Atlantic Group did nothing. No investments were being made, no institutions were being built. No mutilator structure was now in place for peace (where at one time civilization was a circle, there was no beginning or end all was joined together and if there was a seam, no one knew where). A world upside down, without an earthquake, that is how it was developing; it was a time of great squabbles, when generals dethroned kings, and became kings themselves, and the Atlantic authority could do little, but watch. It would seem man was the only creature that could light the world, or darken it, the only creature that could light a fire, was now dissolving to mud. Yet no one dared challenge the supernatural island in the Atlantic, the five members of the Permanent Security Counsel, where were all Atlanteon in nature, these five members were part of the fifteen member group. It had that privilege—of permanency, and that alone it would seem would destroy the world.
The Great Upheaval
And then came the great upheaval, and everyone somehow was looking for the no-God, they never knew, the one they pushed aside, the one they now said: “Yes, I did hear of Him.” The one they were forbidden to talk about, they all knew him now, they must have, they were praying to Him, for death was in the air, the scent of death reeked over the lands like a decaying cloud (from the cedar forests of Lebanon and Syria, to the land of the Nile and the cities of Uruk and Ur, and Troy; and the lands of Attica and Thessaly, Cyprus and Babylon, Susa and over the great rivers of the Euphrates and the Tigris, all of Elam). Some were praying to the Tower, others were raping and killing at will, as if the world was coming to an end, and doing what they always wanted to, but in fear of reprisal, held off. The rain pored, and the animals, the saber-tooth cats, and dogs and all wild creatures started to take over the earth as the waters from the heavens and from the surface poured. And the continents broke, and the North and South Pole’s were put into place, and Greenland was formed, thus
stopping the once warm airs of Europe to settle on the North American side of the world, so came the Arctic, which never existed before; all such things were never before. And as the world started to become torn apart, the Black Sea came into existence, and The Great Tower, the indestructible Tower was buried, buried by the no—God, buried in the sands of time—dragged into nothingness, hidden for all time in the Great Sea, the newly created Black Sea where it remains today—to this very day. Some say ships have seen it, and sank after hitting its top, or sides; not knowing what to make of it; yet, not many, if any have acknowledged it, where it is, not sure why, possibly because it was the ruminants of a global takeover by a supernatural race, a race no one wants to acknowledge existed. And so it remains as it is, out of sight out of mind, and mostly out of mind. Should it resurrect, so will this tale.
Note: A dream of sorts
Author and Poet: Dennis L. Siluk http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
posted by Dennis and Rosa Siluk at 5:45 PM
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