Original text is copyrighted by Jan-Anton van Hoek.
The texts of Jan-Anton van Hoek, especially 'Meeting
in Ancient Places' are not easy to read. You must be a spiritual seeker.
Some of his cosmogenic texts are accounts
of real happenings, but some of their contents might have been mythologized.
Van Hoek's use of language (originally in Dutch) is also not always easy
for a common person. He is well versed in the literary sense, but he also
writes from an exalted state of mind, and he writes about concepts that
are often strange for the uninitiated. Please read slowly and use your intuition
to fill in the gaps of your understanding. I am not going to interpret what
he is writing about. You have to find out for yourself what is in these
texts. In the age of TV and internet where the attention span is only a
couple of seconds long, these texts will bring you back to spiritual depths
and expanded consciousness.
Meeting in Ancient Spaces
is the hour when you approached me with outstretched hands, when we allowed
our fingers to be touched, our hands palms sliding over each other, until
the finger tips moved the little depression at the wrist, and the shout
of joy expressed our friendship. The heavenly gaze in your seeker's eyes,
as it was so much part of you, had made room for an ironic clearness of
knowing and of having forgotten what is not worth to remember.
you from innumerable cosmic years, that you and I have seen going by, even
before the misery arose on the earth world which you had already left, and
on which I still wander around.
Far from being a dry preacher, that you
became against the wishes of many, you have always been a seer, more than
it was visible from the letter of your earthly language. And far from being
a cynical skeptic, that image was attached to me, I have been an understandable
person and translator throughout the ages.
Forget for a moment the norm
to which we are subject: The demands of the shortcomings of our language;
the demands of smoothing the words; the demands to be a support of superficiality,
where vulgar wisdom is already enough for satisfaction!
an instant our universe-flame was stirred. Our stellar fate, having been
sealed millennia ago, started to fulfill itself: what you lack I have, what
I don't have I find in you.
Are you Hod, I am Baldr. Once you killed
me with your branch of mistletoe. Now, after the night that followed the
evening of the Gods, you are seeing, and I -with my light drained, for all
beings to shine- have been reborn in order to recreate the Grail to truth
with you and all of our Circle, and also to soak all who are born of the
spirit with my thankfulness and opinion.
In these sentences, Rudolf,
we will meet each other. These sentences are the mother's belly of our emotional
sound. That what will reach the ears of man, must be born of good origin
and nurtured by the dream, the dream which is truth and which strengthens
all righteous values. Thus your seed is my egg. My rain makes the germ,
which you sowed, burst open. Without my sun, your plant cannot grow or bear
fruit. May its foliage bear heavily its buds of your clever spirit. What
for you is a question is for me an answer, but many things withheld from
me -withheld by the flesh- you will communicate to me. We are part of each
other as spiritual beings in this and in the other world. The dust of stars
from which have have been made, prevent us from temporary illusion. Thus
knowing, we are a beacon. If one of us is a buoy, the other is the light
beam for the ships.
We cannot continue like this. The temptation is too
great to exploit the possibilities of language. Writing in alliterations
may be purely vanity, but it wouldn't matter much, as long as the words
translate that which we both have to say.
After what I could call the
ecstasy of what I could call our meeting again, images glide by by in my
spirit. Images I don't see in dreams, but which I see in full and waking
consciousness, and express as an eye-witness. Maybe they hold a message,
maybe they are just evocations.
We have in common the art of exploring
past times. We are connected without interruption with that nourishing source.
Because we have similar thoughts - relying on that great Underground which
is the origin of all spiritual life- we must again express this in words,
or at least approach it. We must not withhold this nourishing source from
the thirsty people of tomorrow.
We penetrate and transgress through the
Times from the One to the One. The first One is from long time ago, the
last One is what will be, that is, Light after the last grain of dirt, dried
to dust, will have fallen down, without hinder, and merged with the reflection
of the light that it sought to cloud.
The first reasonable civilization
of higher people which have existed out in space has never been equaled,
we both know that. The emigrants who have survived the terrible catastrophe
of Perk'oedhagh, have fertilized the human
race, but were able to civilize it.
The super race -corporeal and multiplied
'super-I' - has never existed on this earth, as the Higher blood, in its
small supply, lost itself in the massive artery fluid of slaves and their
brutal oppressors. The holy Drop of golden monarchial blood became a myth,
the ideal of ancient cultures and a topic of interested writers like Couperus,
whose enlightened spirit could imagine the mystery of the gold Drop and
partly translate it.
Nothing may be further away from me -as a book writer-
than any sensationalism. However, I do feel that -by the fact that these
sentences will appear under the eyes of man- these words may be explained
wrongly and that this will often be the case. It cannot be prevented. Science
fiction is not my business, although I do not lament science fiction. Parapsychology
is not my way of expression, although I don't know what to call it.
can blame me for whatever: deceit, illusion, a writer's cleverness. I just
have to take it as it is.
But now we talk about Then! Understand it who
can understand it, and may the Gods be with us. You my Brother and I will
lift the veil of many a big Secret that has been the Holy of Holy throughout
all the World Years. And let it be,
in this Last World Year that is dawning, a revelation.
The four dynasties
of Perk'oedhagh were like four seasons. The fourth season was like
winter, because when the civilization of of world emperors was decapitated,
the ruler of the cosmos held his breath and doom descended on each crown
which would be carried in the milky way. Ah, Perk'oedhagh -smashed into
thousands meteors, even the myriads of mūgal birds disappeared into the
ash! Race-depopulated, perverted by the underbeingness, lost, with a gigantic
explosion after centuries of gasping erosion. Your life beings dispersed
throughout all directions of the universe, not able to reunite, irretrievably
expelled, justified or innocent! Rudolf, you understand this, you can see,
you know Perk'oedhagh, whose upper vicar you were when my scepter went down
in the doom of the hordes. The four part sonata of Perk'oedhagh, with the
mystical patterns of this great and noble musical form. You inspirator:
it probably will be one of the monologues from my mouth, filling this book,
but I am secretary of both of us.
The first dynasty of Perk'oedhagh
was founded by him who is called "God", but who was simply called
Per: from him we don't know anything. The times were icy, and it wasn't
until the thirteenth emperor that the climate became milder. What does it
matter if this statement has been written down in annals or that it is legend?
The emperors, who had the title of civikan, should be seen as models of
many forms of Gods that the emigrants presented to the inhabitants if the
earth, and with which they soon would be personified. Their names are still
loud cosmic resonances, and he who is able to listen, can hear them.
Especially the last cikivani of the first
period were the founders of the blossom of the civilization of Perk'oedhagh.
Monarchs of spring who laid the foundation, under whose rule the foliage
became green, the blossom got color and the fruit started to bud. When the
last emperor, after a rulership of several decennia, died without leaving
any children, the vaja -the eligible aristocracy
of Perk'oedhagh- choose one of theirs for cikivan. With him, the full blossom
of the Holy empire started, the time of art and science, of civilization,
but also the subjugation of other people on the inhabited part of the
It was during the ruler ship of emperor
Tcikhank'oe, that the 'marl' (=magician) Hcaimng
foresaw an invasion of the hordes: unspeakable wild, in human being incarnated
destructive forces present on the dhagh.
Knowing that it was not possible
to control these hordes, he spoke to the emperor: "Let the Cikivan
call the birds formed out of clay and light, and feathered by the wind!
Let him order me to call them to our rescue!"
Although he didn't
understand it, Tcikhank'oe complied, and Hcaimng traveled to the Blue Mountains,
and called to heaven: "Oh eternal hungry Birds, I am your food! Eat
Numerous big birds landed around him. Some were like eagles,
but fair of color, those were the leaders. Others were white and tufted,
those were the intellectuals and priests. The ones which were fair-red and
bristly were their warriors, feared in war. The artists and dancers were
long feathered and golden colored.
Hcaimng spoke: "Who is your queen?"
At the same moment a white bird of unusual beauty landed near him: "I
am their queen".
"Eat me, so I can perish and rebirth myself,
feeding your subjects," the marl said.
Thus it happened. After Hcaimng
had fed the last bird, he rebirthed himself and said: "Now I am in
all of you and I have conquered you. Now, you are my servants."
The birth could not deny that this was the case. They followed the marl
to the court of the emperor.
"I have brought you numerous help,
which will serve you in my name, oh cikivan!", Hcaimng said, "Feed
them and they will help you to dispel the hordes."
Thus the emperor
did: he conquered the hordes of men, imposed tribute, and lived in peace
But Hcaimng died before the end of the battle, because he
decided that his body had suffered enough. He was only able to prevent his
pain by being in trance. Emperor Tcikhank'oe build a holy shrine for Hcaimng.
In later times, emperor Raihi'kwoth declared him a divinity.
deed of Hcaimng the birds, which are know as the
Mūghal, formed an integral part of the history
A remarkable story is the one that was considered a
legend already during the Holy empire. According to this account the Mūghal
queen Seppeth would have mated with Tcikhank'oe, and she would have born
him a sun, who had the body of a man and the head of a mūghal. His name
Another story speaks of him as the founder of a whole series
of Bird-headed people. The last of their descendants was also called Tēas'hir.
This one led the emigrants away from the splintering Perk'oedhagh. Both
figures were both confused with other and often identified with each other.
The last source also dates from the time on earth.
Again the images become
confused. Again I concentrate in order to weave together the pieces, with
your friendly help - in order to disentangle the knots and separate visions
from illusions. At such moments I have to stop writing and distance myself
from this work.
Bedazzling is sometimes the similarity between the history
of Perk'oedhagh and its four dynasties, and the four worlds, respectively
those of the Demons, Gods, Nature Spirits and Monarch-men.
Let us beware
for such literally "truths"! You know as well as I do that this
can give way to nonsensical and even hysterical "spiritual knowledge".
Nobody and nothing has any value with a "parallel history" or
a "complementary history", even more so because by themselves
they don't contain any lesson. I do not want to fill the holes between cosmic
happenings and written "history" -that would never be possible.
That is not why I want to write down the digressions about Perk'oedagh.
I do because there must be a causal link between the Original and the Following.
Thus I want to avoid the mistake of parapsychology -pseudo-empirism. Thus
you and I have decided a long time ago to build our reports organically.
Some generations after Raihi'kwoth the second dynasty of Perk'oedagh died.
From a female sideline -the Holy people only knew a limited patriarchy-
came the third house of emperors. This third House was a fine, refined race
in the higher circles of the empire. This was the time of deification of
the imperial dignity. Although the cikivani were light emperors and thus
in flesh incarnated Gods, their dignity now became a certainty amidst their
subjects, but also in the eyes of the tamed people and the slaves. Even
the hordes did not doubt the divinity of the cikivan; one must honor and
obey them, and it was undisputable to subjugate one's spiritual and worldly
decisions and commands. This was not seen as a sign of inferiority. The
best example of this dependency was the vaja, the "pairs" of the
empire, who very close in power to the emperor, but who would bend without
hesitation to the emperor's dignity. The incarnated majesty of the cikivani
was that strong in the third dynasty.
On the dagh the following structure
existed. In Scaiēoźn the emperor ruled; the vaja ruled in the provinces;
in the subjugated areas autochthonic rulers ruled under the supervision
of an Iwa, a procurator appointed by the cikivan. Only the hordes were truly
anarchistic. They only had a vague tribal sense. The rapacious gangs were
held in check by their magicians and family elders. Their superstitious
belief made them pay tribute to the Xidiborüng, the name they gave to cikivani,
meaning "the Lord of the Birds", since emperor Tcikhank'oe subjugated
them with the help of the Mūghal birds.
For this purpose they visited
Scaiēoźn each year and gave the imperial treasurer beer, kbing (a kind of
wild sheep), dried fruit of the fields and cultural objects like fossil
resins, metals, mlėng (coral) etc. The the cikivan gave audience to two
of their ral (the heads of the caravan). Then the emperor received ten women
as a gift. In exchange he gave the ral his blessing, one by one, and gave
them a golden staff and send these wild people, shaken by superstitious
fear and adoration, back to their tribes.
All this sounds a bit idealistic,
but emperor Mrihjamvic from the third dynasty was heavily offended when
the hordes didn't pay him tribute in a given year. In the couple of hundred
years before certain forces seem to have broken the anarchism of the hordes
to have founded a protopolitical tribal connection -although temporary-
by which certain tribes chose a hrix (=a chief). This hrix -his name is
not known-, acted on his own behalf. When the tribute didn't happen a second
time, Mrihjamvic gathered the troops and matched to the lands of the hordes.
The mūghal, who were great in numbers, punished the hordes in such a drastically
way that nothing of them was left but clean picked bones.
The good emperor
Mrihjamvic was very sad about this, and cried. Kai-Hķdam, the general of
the mūghal spoke to the emperor: "May the cikivan not shed tears, but
let us build a dam that the hordes cannot cross, because they will seek
revenge, and they can pay their tribute at the entrance of the empire."
The cikivan relied that this would raise new hate and reproached Kai-Hķdam.
But Kai-Hķdam blew fire through his nostrils and said: "By Seppeth
who linked us once to you: I am advising you honestly and as a real and
The emperor understood and he decided as Kai-Hķdam
had advised him. By this a long lasting peace was established.
called themselves Mrihjamvic -by this obtaining an identity- in remebrance
to their hrix, who, after the course of the rebellion, was convicted to
death by emperor Mrihjamvic, and he was burned between two bronze plates
until he died. By the new measures of tribute the hrixin stated to alienate
themselves more and more from the court.
Doom announced itself for those
who were able to understand.
Pünt'ch, who was marl during the reign of
emperor Rangkoe'at, did not loose any opportunity to shout conjuring sounds
in the emperor's ear, but it was in vain. Anyway, who would have listened?
The power and wealth were unequaled, and technology was far ahead of anything
that had ever been!
I am seeing it on your lips, my dear friend: it is
for sure a question of mentality, which makes the technology of the earth "of
today" so destructive. You are surely right!
When we look at Perk'oedhagh
at the time of Rangk'oe'at and his successors, then we do not see anything
about exploitation of the planet into the absurd, no adoration of technique,
no monetary or ideological power games around the technique. Technology
had to serve mankind of that era under the patronage of and to the glory
of the emperor.
How far has mankind degenerated, compared with those
ancient times. Ach Rudolf, do you know, do I know? What do the earthly devils
want with the powers they unleash! Oh yes, on Perk'oedhagh these powers
were also unleashed by fallible beings, but they acted on behalf of their
wise emperor, who commanded them a "pull back!" and led their
consciousness. They were penetrated by a total cosmic importance instead
of by self delusion and greed, and this put the heaviest weight in the scale.
Don't curl your small lips, oh brother! You know that this was the case,
we both have seen it ourselves. Technologically, Perk'oedhagh reached it
climax during the third dynasty. Although many inventions were improved
in later times, and new amazing results would see the light, the great Equilibrium
between technology and nature that existed during the autumn period of the
Holy empire, would perish completely after the end of the dynasty. Never
would there be a similar technological civilization in any world with similar
inhabitants. I don't want to fall into fantastic looking revelations. I
will limit myself to the fact that each technological problem that has existed
or shall exist on earth, had been solved on Perk'oedhagh before the end
of the third dynasty, and was never reported again. The imperial scientists
were able to stabilize the humidity and temperature in their empire, thus
creating a reliable, healthy climate, in which both man, animal and plant
Hunger was an unknown concept, even outside the empire, because
the subjugated people, and even the hrixin (the hordes), took advantage
of it, because they received the rich surplus in exchange for all kind of
natural products. The symbiosis between the people of the empire and the
subjugated people reached a climax in this era.
Closely connected with
this period of prosperity in the empire is the name of emperor Hmarsisin,
whose reign ended the third dynasty at the height of its splendor. However,
doom started to show before the eyes of the marl Kanhic'ci during the fourth
dynasty which lasted a couple of hundred years. He announced the last generation
of emperors of Perk'oedhagh: " Oh hear with hearts of grief: Cikivan
left behind the fleshly coat of his divinity, and no descendant will reign
after him, thus we will choose a new cikivan. The autumn period of our empire
has rung its last sound, now the winter will start! Be strong in the disaster!"
How many have understand his visionary words? The people mourned according
to custom for the dead emperor, and the vaja choose a new one, who founded
the fourth dynasty. When the mourning was over, the new cikivan was inaugurated
with a lot of splendor. The leaders of all the subjugated tribes were present,
full of admiration, and so were the hrixi of the Hordes who had brought
brown-white chaļ skins, prepared with honey (chaļ=a kind of giant marten)
to lay at the feet of the Xidiborüng.
I now see only dark times ahead.
Apparently the fourth Empire also flourished but it was already rotting
at the root. It is difficult to look back, you and I, to the awful fate
of this last civilization.
Nor you, oh Rudolf, nor I, have ever had peace
after that. Not one of us has ever been able to use the pen, because in
the previous World Year it was taboo to mention it. But now, in the New
World Year, our hearts and tongues are free and we will not be silent anymore.
You are saying it, and I am repeating it. I proclaim and you confirm, my
Let the word be spoken, truth! Let everybody hear what had been
cosmically hidden for numerous years, and it will be written by me, openly:
the story of the last Emperor and of the last High priest of Perk'oedhagh.
The rapidly deterioration of the imperial authority led to awful situations
during the fourth dynasty, and certainly from approximately the middle of
this period. At the end emperor Dhrahicin succeeded to unite once more the
entire dhagh and the subjugated tribes under his Holy scepter. When this
cikivan died, he was succeeded by his weak, indolent -although very good
willing- son Dink'aihoe. He was the incorporation of the approaching doom
of the empire. He wanted to be Emperor, but at the same time he was too
good. The empire had already been corrupted so much that only a strong hand
could have prevented the all encompassing disaster by pricking the sore
spots of the imperial body without hesitation. Even then he would have needed
the support of a wise, resolute dāmarl, the Supreme High Priest.
the cikivan, nor Dķgihan, the dāmarl, were suited for the task.
do I remember from this disaster of disasters? And you? Once united, then
estranged? Now again thinking together, reflecting like over ancient Greek
amphorae from a sea excavation. How old? How much covered by seaweed, and
pocked by the sea? One needs to sweep away the web from the eyes, slowly;
and slowly, as if unwilling, images come alive, images which one would not
like to behold anymore.
Where were the overly inbred, degenerated mūghal
when the empire entered its doom? Where were their mass numbers, compared
with the small number of those who remained Pure among these birds? Everything
stood in the sign of decomposition of anarchy, in the sign of violence and
destruction. Ah, when Per in his wisdom will once give me the sign, then
I will write down the history of Perk'oedhagh in all its details, for the
learning of humanity on the planet of magma, but that time is not ready
yet. But this does not prevent two things: first we have to paint the demise
of Perk'oedhagh, without thinking of the pain caused by remembering it.
Secondly, both you and I have to confront the fact that we have to follow
the settlement of what once happened, wherever it leads. One should not
take into account that for me the history has once repeated itself on this
planet. The only difference is that in Perk'oedhagh there was no court-physician
and the end was more gruesome, but I won't give any details here. I cannot
and will not go into details about the demise of the Holy empire, the gruesome
murdering of the imperial generation and the splintering of Perk'oedhagh.
Therefore I limit myself to the main points, de-personalized, leaving it
to Per to once let me describe the Great Fate into the details - which I
am capable to do.
In the twentieth year of Dink'aihoe's ruler ship the
hrixin (=the hordes) flood the Empire. The degenerated mūghal did not offer
resistance but stayed with their porcelain eggs. The good müghal of the
old generation had to withdraw. The old order was shaking. The vaja were
unreliable; they already had withdrawn themselves too much from the imperial
authority. The Iwa (the heads of the autochtones areas), although loyal
to the cikivan were able to master the subjugated rulers of the subjugated
people, but not the uprooted tribes themselves. Thus they were slain and
killed, one by one, and also the rulers who still remained loyal to the
The entire catastrophe, coming forth from cosmic disturbances,
clouded the entire dhagh. The emperor yielded his throne, but it was too
late. The Hrixin flooded his palace and he was cruelly killed before the
eyes of the empress.
Then the hordes killed the entire imperial family,
nobody escaped. From the Old Order only you remained alive, you who escaped
to the Blue Mountains, to which also the great and good mūghal escaped.
You spoke to the mūghal: "I am Dķgivan, the dāmarl (=Supreme High Priest),
listen to me, o great good mūghal, because Cikivan has been murdered under
the split hoofs of the Hrixin, and nothing remains of the Holy empire. Thus,
gather yourself and rescue the Holy inscriptions of the empire. Then we
shall leave the dhagh with the xelta-hüdin and their vehicles".
Since long ago, the xelta-hüdin were the Imperial supreme servants, freeman
in service of the imperial house, and architects of traffic ships from the
dhagh. Tayhāhral, the lieutenant of the surviving mūghal, and he said to
you: "Oh Dķgivan, Oh dāmarl, wise are your words, but look at us! Death
is our emperor the damūghal. Betrayal came from the wicked among us. Ashamed
are the people of the mūghal, humiliated after so many centuries of loyalty
to the cikivani of Perk'oedhagh, since Seppeth and Tcikhank'toe. How shall
we, whose wings overshadow the dhagh, transport your people from dhagh to
dhagh? Oh how pitiful is the race of mūghal!"
The noble Taykāhral
shouted to the heavens with sorrow, while he entangled his feathers, and
his followers did the same thing.
You answered: "Thus the eye of
the dāmarl sees: the righteous, the few, will leave the dhagh, be it the
ruling people, the Iwa obedient Hrixin, man or mūghal, but those who will
not come along will perish. Thus, oh noble Taykāhral , send a messenger
to the Cleft of the Double People, and ask the tank'oe of the Bird-headed
people if he supports me in my council, because heavy and late is this hour,
and the evening is falling over the dhagh."
The mūghal leader took
five of his trusted people with him and ascended. They also took an escort
to defend themselves from traitors. They safely left and returned. With
them came, seated on the back of Taykāhral, the Lord of the Bird-headed
people, Tēas'hir. He bowed his head to you and spoke: " As you spoke,
it will happen, oh dāmarl, but now go in peace, as I will lead the people
out of here."
You closed your eyes, fell of your riding animal,
and a couple of moments later you were in endless spheres.
organized the rebellion against the terror, and together with the great
good mūghal conquered a base from which the Boat of the Saving-seekers could
leave, and he let resound his call over the dhagh. A couple of thousand
grouped around him. Many ships filled, they finally left the sinking ship,
whose captains were already dead.
The last thing Tēas'hir saw of Perk'oedhagh,
was its wild shape of red, waving hair, the yellow eyes, the blue cheeks
and the black purplish beak. "Goodbye!", Tēas'hir shouted, "and
be cursed. You will splinter in your deserved ingratitude!"
it already rumbling in the dhagh? Soon she would perish, pulling her corrupted
population into a destruction they had caused themselves.
shouted with joy in the Universe: "Now I am alone with Per, and listen!
In His name I will be called Arya, the Man, and from my loins will arise
a race of leaders of a new world, and it will rule over this world by the
desire of the race, into times of light." Thus the tide ran: the flood
that washed away Perk'oedhagh, would also taint later civilization.
of the translator: they arrived at Earth. What happened next is accounted
in the text Arya)