by Georgi Stankov, June 20, 2015
During the doldrums before the ascension storm, it feels as if we are riding on the Pequod, Herman Melville‘s fictional whaler. But instead of scanning the Atlantic’s horizon for signs of Moby Dick, we idle away the final hours in this crumbling reality, knowing that the storm will break lose only after we have moved to New Lemuria. And we do not need to blame the devil that has taken possession of the few remaining internet trolls for this seemingly interminable lull as we know that nobody has any influence on the divine orchestration of the End Time scenario.
It is generally acknowledged that Melville’s novel “Moby Dick” on the mythical white whale:
“For, it was not so much his uncommon bulk that so much distinguished him from other Sperm Whales, but, as was elsewhere thrown out – a peculiar snow-white wrinkled forehead, and a high, pyramidical white hump. These were his prominent features; the tokens whereby, even in the limitless, uncharted seas, he revealed his identity, at a long distance, to those who knew him.
The rest of his body was so streaked, and spotted, and marbled with the same shrouded hue, that, in the end, he had gained his distinctive appellation of the White Whale; a name, indeed, literally justified by his vivid aspect, when seen gliding at high noon through a dark blue sea, leaving a milky-way wake of creamy foam, all spangled with golden gleamings.”
is in the first place a profound reflection of the author on the colonial exploitation of the New World and not an adventure story. The name of the whaler Pequod, hunting Moby Dick, symbolizes the blood-thirsty history of mankind on its way to redemption. Let me remind you that the Pequod was named after a native tribe whose villages were burned to the ground by New England’s Puritan settlers, in one particularly brutal instance with 400 people trapped inside. The Puritan chronicler William Bradford’s second-hand account runs thus:
“It was a fearfull sight to see them thus frying in the fyer, and the streams of blood quenching the same, and horrible was the stinck and sente ther of; but the victory had wrought so wonderfuly for them, thus to inclose their enimise in their hands, and give them so speedy a victory over so proud and insulting an enimie.”
I recently wrote that Canada is a country founded in crime and so does the USA. Both are in the same boat, idling throughout the oceans in search of the mythical white whale of redemption… or perdition, just as humanity is now striding towards Ascension or physical death in the coming MPR. As Melville knew all too well, any possible outcome is only within the confines of the human mind. For those of you who have not read this voluminous novel, a masterpiece of world literature, or have read it but forgotten the narrative, here is a short synopsis:
“Nantucket. The little island off the east coast of the United States is the capital of American whaling in 1850. Sailors, traders, harpooners – they all hope to make big money on land or on a whaler – and if not, then at least to have big adventures. One of them is Ishmael, who wanders through the bustling harbour in search of a whaling boat that will take him out to sea. Together with the homeless boy Pip and the fear-inspiring Polynesian harpooner Queequeg, he signs on as a crew member of the Pequod.
The commander of the whale boat is the charismatic, some would say despotic, Captain Ahab, an experienced seaman and whale hunter who lost his leg several years earlier in a struggle with the gigantic white sperm whale Moby Dick. Now he is obsessed with taking revenge on the legendary creature. Neither his long-suffering wife nor his crew suspect the true extent of his obsessive thirst for vengeance. Only Starbuck, the First Mate of the Pequod, a very religious and level-headed man, fears that this journey will not be a regular whale-catching expedition…
On deck, Ahab finally tells his crew what the real goal of their voyage is: the death of Moby Dick. Ishmael, who is now friends with the harpooner Queequeg, is fascinated by his captain’s charisma, willpower and determination. He casts Queequeg’s dark premonitions to the winds. Starbuck, however, keeps reminding them of the blind vindictiveness of Ahab, whose madness and manipulative tactics can mean death for the seamen.
On the long and arduous journey across the Atlantic, which takes the Pequod around the Cape of Good Hope and to the South China Sea, the crew members are subjected to hunger and thirst, to the terrifying stillness of the doldrums and to naked fear. Yet Ahab unswervingly pursues his goal: the hunt for Moby Dick. When the harpooners of the Pequod kill one of the white whale’s companions, the seamen get an idea of the anger and power of their enemy. Yet their first encounter with Moby Dick is only a taste of the apocalyptic struggle between man and animal that is about to take place on the high seas, and in which not only Ahab and the white whale will meet their fates…”
Ahab, the captain of Pequod, embodies the cabal psychopaths in power who are entirely driven by irrational vengeance against the wonders of the Source and the pristine character of Gaia’s nature, and especially against her human and cetacean inhabitants. Moby Dick embodies on the other hand the miracle of life as a divine creation that evades the senseless battle of life and death with the dark Ahab, as this white whale, an incarnation of ascended masters and a guardian of the earth, is fully aware of his immortality. But when confronted by Ahab accepts the challenge and transfigures into God’s vehicle of the Last Judgment.
Moby Dick is essentially the light warrior of the first and the last hour – the mythical, unique white sperm whale, the symbol of purity and elemental force of karmic resolution.
And then we have the crew, the rest of humanity, who are divided into blind followers and critical admonishers, but altogether a spineless bunch of people that follow the psychopath in power as long as he is the unquestionable captain and thus put their lives in danger in their blind fealty. This is the destiny of humanity in these final days as described in this novel:
“On the third day of the chase, Ahab sights Moby Dick at noon, and sharks appear as well. Ahab lowers his boat for a final time, leaving Starbuck again on board. Moby Dick breaches and destroys two boats. Fedallah’s corpse, still entangled in the fouled lines, is lashed to the whale’s back, and so Moby Dick turns out to be the hearse Fedallah prophesied. “Possessed by all the fallen angels” (Ch. 135), Ahab plants his harpoon in the whale’s flank. Moby Dick smites the whaleboat, tossing its men into the sea. Only Ishmael survives. The whale now fatally attacks the Pequod. Ahab then realizes that the destroyed ship is the hearse made of American wood in Fedallah’s prophesy. The whale returns to Ahab, who stabs at him again. The line loops around Ahab’s neck, and as the stricken whale swims away, the captain is drawn with him out of sight. Queequeg’s coffin comes to the surface, the only thing to escape the vortex when Pequod sank. For an entire day Ishmael floats on it, and then the Rachel, still looking for its lost seamen, rescues him.”
The only question that remains to be answered is, whether there will be a “Mutiny on the Bounty“, sorry, on Pequod. The chances are slim, but that is not the question now. Just as Melville transcends the hunting of Moby Dick into an unknown Odyssey of humanity across the endless oceans, so do we transcend our modest lives into a cosmic saga about the most fierce battle ever fought between the forces of light and the dark masters of senseless revenge in this multiverse.
When the doldrums prior to ascension engulf our lives, it is worth it to be aware of the epic battles we fought and won throughout this lifetime on behalf of All-That-Is. We are the Moby Dicks of all multidimensional oceans and ours is the victory even as hunted giants in human gestalt. We are the albinos of the new human races and at present the black sheep in the flock. But this is all part of the game which we have already won in a brilliant manner.
Now we must bring about the patience to overcome the doldrums of ascension in the next few days before the storm will flush us into the paradise of New Lemuria, which we are now creating for ourselves, thus leaving behind all the Ahabs to drown in the oceans in their futile hunt for Moby Dick.