Age version appearing in the East most likely fueled the popular Hindu and Buddhist belief that
today’s world remains in a stage of degradation likely to last for tens or hundreds of thousands
of years—a picture very different from that presented by the untarnished cycle theory, in which
the last downward arc ended in 499 CE.
This distortion persists in India even though humanity’s knowledge is advancing in the scientific
manner associated with an ascending Bronze Age. Perhaps influenced by centuries of
ignorance, many students of Hinduism and Buddhism conclude that present-day wars,
corporatism, and consumerism prove we are in an extended Dark Age. Instead, such social
characteristics could just as easily result from implementation of early ascending Bronze Age
technologies that make the lingering myopia of the Iron Age more apparent, exaggerated, and
destructive. Similarly, today’s environmental problems likely derive from scientific advances
outpacing intuitive ones—another calculable phenomenon in the early centuries of an ascending
Bronze Age, during which relatively few scientists serve as custodians of most of humanity’s
material knowledge. Having recently emerged from the Dark Ages, we are at a crossroads
whether the cycle theory is correct or not: we foolishly contaminate the biosphere with carbon
emissions and mercury, for instance, but we are aware of the dangers due to our expanding
knowledge of climate change and biochemistry.
Nevertheless, the twenty-first century departs radically from the descending Iron Age with its
tenacious emphasis on magic, pseudoscience, and ethnocentric theological projections. So
obvious are the advances themselves and hopes for a better tomorrow that in scientifically
progressive societies around the world, younger generations view conservatism in the face of
promising change as stagnant and “old guard.” Signs of balanced progress include the
following: the large amount of knowledge accumulated through the scientific method in a
relatively short period of time, the widening interest in living in harmony with the natural world,
recent tendencies to challenge past religious truths, the care for the plight of women still
oppressed by culture and religion, and the struggle for other human rights, as well as animal
protections. Simultaneously, the grip of divisive organized religion is weakening as the ideal of a
global sense of self strengthens; progressive forms of medicine are becoming more popular;
science is no longer thwarted by popery; and the philosophies of ancient people are being
widely explored and respected. The knowledge humanity needs for a scientifically and spiritually
advanced world seems to have reemerged and simply needs to be made globally available
through a progressive form of education that holds nothing sacred but the search for truth. Even
though humanity has a long way to go until it is free of past ignorance, appreciating the
incompleteness of our knowledge signals progress over the surety of religious beliefs.
The cycle theory, while offering an interesting approach to the study of history, leaves many
questions unanswered. For example, aside from ancient scientific textual references, megalithic
observatories, and pyramids standing in places warm enough to have sustained human life
during the “higher” age’s ice age, why is there little material evidence of higher age technology?
The Mahabharata refers to flying crafts, described as remnants of both a space and
time-annihilating technology. But if Golden Age humanity had had such technology, we would
expect to find physical signs of it today. Some people might point out that the cycle theory
accounts for advanced civilizations such as Atlantis, where humanity’s ability to fly became
legendary, but without hard evidence the reverse possibility could also be true—that the legends
of these ancient societies were fantasies born of the cycle theory.
Comparing aspects of the cycle theory with theories of modern science raises other issues.
Paleontologists David Raup and Jack Sepkoski discovered that extinction rates seem to rise
dramatically every 26 million years as the earth is hit by comets and asteroids. Astrophysicist
Richard Muller further theorized that periodic extinctions may be caused by a star, which he
named Nemesis, revolving with our sun in 26 million-year cycles and pulling the earth out of its
normal cone of protection against comets and asteroids, making the planet vulnerable to
extinction-level events.12 The cycle theory likewise proposes the existence of a binary star, but
instead of revolving in 26 million-year cycles and causing destruction with each one, it is said to
revolve with the precessional and every thousand revolutions herald a new day of Brahma. This
would place our sun’s binary closer to the solar system than Nemesis. Finding such a star might
help confirm this element of the cycle theory and possibly account for the gravitational variance
found in our solar system.
Perhaps the most difficult comparison between the cycle theory and modern science concerns
the cycle theory’s claim that a magnetic field centered in the heart of the galaxy affects the
evolution of intelligent life in all solar systems. Since the ancient Indians who proposed this
subtle radiation did not say it was emitted spherically, it seems they suspected it as being
beamed along the galactic plane, possibly explaining why they likened the center of the galactic
spiral to the navel of the god Vishnu. If this was their understanding, it might be compatible with
the modern scientific measurement showing that our solar system lies unusually near the
galactic plane, to an accuracy of .001 degrees—perhaps contributing to intervals of a
magnetism that stimulated the nervous systems of life forms on earth or the development of our
sophisticated cerebral structure. If so, the sun’s proximity to the galactic plane and the presence
of intelligent life on earth would be directly related, making humanity all the more rare and
precious.
Other comparisons between the cycle theory and modern science are even more problematic.
For example, the cycle theory’s mathematical calculation for ages is apparently at odds with
modern calculations for the precessional. Its model of 12,000 years of devolving and evolving
ages adds up to a 24,000-year precessional; by contrast, the current precessional rate results in
a cycle closer to 26,000 years. Proponents of the cycle theory argue that the precessional rate
would naturally change in a binary system over the course of 24,000 years, slowing down near
the high’s and low’s of the cycle and making the Great Year seem longer when measured over
a relatively short period of time. If this is the case, we would expect the precessional rate to
gradually increase in the coming centuries.
Consideration of the relationship between the cycle theory and evolutionary theory raises
additional concerns. Does the cycle theory imply that the bridge between the intellect of modern
man, Cro-Magnon, and apes is to be found not in a missing species but in periodic evolutionary
boosts? Did the human intellect receive evolutionary boosts from the ascending ages or was it
sparked by a more active lifestyle resulting from decreased temperatures caused by the cooling
of the sun? Though such intriguing questions cannot be answered with certainty, posing them
may open doors of possibility, broadening our perspective on human progress through the ages.
Despite its severe limitations, the cycle theory offers an explanation of human evolution and
devolution that is based neither on the whims of vengeful gods nor on sheer randomness. The
people who proposed it may have been misguided, but they were looking for global causes to
account for a worldwide disintegration of human societies and galactic forces contributing to the
evolution of intelligent life in any solar system. That is, they were seeking general knowledge by
asking several small questions, unlike Dark Age theologians who asked grandiose questions
and arrived at provincial answers. The result is a model that stretches across not thousands or
even millions, but billions of years. In this sense, the cycle theory bears the stamp of efforts
toward scientific thinking and highlights stark contrasts between humanity’s distant past, its
recent dark history, and its current potential for positive change. As such, the theory may assist
in evaluating humanity’s scientific progress and the true longevity of organized religion.
Use of the theory’s model of progress furnishes insights into the ongoing dominance of
organized religion despite the degree to which it runs counter to contemporary predilections for
scientific and freethinking investigation. For one thing, organized religion continues to foster
Dark Age beliefs in magic and superstition that impose a fear of questioning degenerate
dogmas, such as Transubstantiation, the Roman Catholic doctrine that bread and wine convert
into the body and blood of Christ during the Eucharist. Further, organized religion consolidates
power in “select” individuals, relying on proselytizing and unquestioned faith to spread its
beliefs. Since the majority of people today identify with a religion from the Veda-based
Hindu-Buddhist traditions or the Hebrew Bible–based Judeo-Christian-Islamic traditions, many
other degenerate theological and social doctrines continue to exist, including martyrdom and
resurrection, as well as oppressive caste systems. But in the scope of history, such degeneracy
continues because these dogmatic religions—formed, ironically, around the images of
philosopher-mystics like the Buddha and Jesus, who challenged religious superstition—have a
common enemy: the material and intuitive sciences that grant individuals the freedom to
challenge all accepted truths. Organized religion, it seems, remains dominant in this scientific
age because merely knowing how to operate technological devices like computers, cars, and
cell phones does not inspire an active investigation of beliefs.
Organized religion endures primarily by affecting social conditions and codifying cultural biases.
Today’s organized religious groups worldwide have thrived where others failed because they
adapted to the ever-changing social needs of their followers, often enforcing beliefs within the
populace through social incentives, ideological education, and coercion. They also addressed
the common need for a sense of purpose and place in the world, helping followers define
themselves in relation to others, mark rites of passage, and ensure economic survival. But
throughout it all they undermined the spirit of questioning.
As the human race continues to evolve in the acquisition of knowledge, Sagan’s hope for social
and spiritual change may yet come to pass. Commenting on our hardwired ability to shape our
institutions, Sagan remarks, “About two-thirds of the mass of the human brain is in the cerebral
cortex, devoted to intuition and reason. . . . We have brilliantly deciphered some of the patterns
of Nature.” Describing the challenge before us, he adds, “Our global society is clearly on the
edge of failure in the most important task it faces: to preserve the lives and well-being of the
citizens of the planet. Should we not then be willing to explore vigorously, in every nation, major
changes in the traditional ways of doing things, a fundamental redesign of economic, political,
social and religious institutions?”13
Sagan makes it clear that since the human race has inherited both knowledge and ignorance,
the continual reaping of ignorance from the past is an alterable fate. Just as mathematicians no
longer limit themselves to Roman numerals but use the more ancient positional notation,
humanity need not restrict itself to provincial organized religions but can explore its inheritance
of universal spiritual ideals. The cycle theory may suggest that evolution of intelligent life is
dependent on galactic forces; but it also stresses that knowledge is the highest aim of life and
the only measure of progress, implying that organized religion is a product not of some perfect
Supreme Being but of fallible human beings who were relatively ignorant of the workings of the
cosmos and their own self-awareness.
Though science has dramatically progressed from the days when Copernicus revolutionized
perceptions of the world and self by suggesting that the sun was the center of the solar system,
our generation may never be able to confirm or deny that a magnetism emanating from the
center of the galaxy enlivens the cerebrum. Fortunately, the cycle theory need not be proven for
it to inspire timely questions prompting practical solutions to a religiously divided world.
Challenged by the theory’s radical views of the world and self, we can begin to satisfy our social
and personal needs in more unifying ways.
Moving Past the Dark Ages
The means by which we live have outdistanced
the ends for which we live.
Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power.
We have guided missiles and misguided men.
—Martin Luther King
Constant reexamination of traditional patterns of thought has furthered humanity’s social and
spiritual progress. It makes sense, then, that questioning assumptions born in the Dark Ages
and gleaning attitudes and understandings embedded in a larger view of history might help us
resolve conflicts in today’s political, economic, and religious institutions. Balancing material
knowledge of the infinitesimal atom with intuitive knowledge of the substance of self-awareness
may also go a long way toward curbing humanity’s new capacity for suicidal self-destruction.
In recent centuries, humans have gained an understanding of electromagnetic forces and begun
dissolving the barrier of space. Previously, people were relatively unable to traverse great
distances or even conceive of an airplane, radio, or missile though the necessary materials for
them existed. Also, individuals lacked interactions with cultures around the globe, making it
difficult to identify with them. Adding to the obstructions imposed by great space were organized
religions’ competing attempts to control the heavens so they could control the imaginations of
believers, often through projecting a cosmos populated by a host of heavenly angels singing
praises to God.
Today, the race is on again to control the skies, this time with weapons of combat and
instruments of surveillance. Our military reach over vast distances has outpaced our ability to
live in peace with diverse cultures. And yet, with our sense of identity extending farther than the
range of modern weaponry, world harmony would be within reach. So it seems that while
overcoming the limitations of space has the potential for oppressive military consequences, the
mastery of space also dissolves communication barriers between cultures. Indeed, in contrast to
the looming shadow of powerful weapons and spy satellites, grassroots movements are already
utilizing technologies like the Internet to bring people together and share information. The better
the understanding is between people, the more the self can expand since the whole world is
only a phone call, plane ride, or mouse click away.
The expanding sense of self, in turn, is apt to shape the implementation of new technologies,
completing the feedback loop. And once individuals are able to identify with all people, including
future generations, uses of technology, naturally reflecting this broadened base of responsibility,
will no longer threaten the survival of the human race.
Another potentially valuable use of space-annihilating technology is in the creation of privately
funded programs that afford young adults from all cultures the opportunity to see the world and
work side by side for extended periods with people of every nation to promote world peace.
Traveling freely might also encourage children to expand inner awareness instead of spending
years staring into today’s foremost space-annihilating technology: the television. Excessive
entertainment can dull the intellect, discourage learning, and narrowly define the self by
standards of material success reflected in the lifestyles of popular entertainers and the
incessant focus on money, fame, and sex appeal.
To further instill global harmony, societies could agree to standardize measurements and
modes of communication. For example, people of all cultures might concur on the importance of
implementing the metric system and even a fair global currency, and of promoting a universal
language as a second language. Since the use of English is already widespread, citizens of
wealthy countries utilizing it as a primary language could both fund English instruction around
the world and promote the study of other languages at home. Wealthy philanthropists seeking to
encourage world peace through expansion of the sense of self could also help introduce
students in all cultures to a greater awareness of history and ethnic diversity.
The adoption of a universal calendar would also contribute enormously to the development of a
global self. While the time of day has been standardized worldwide and calibrated according to
a cesium-beam master clock, currently Jews, Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodox Christians,
and Muslims all have different calendars based on local historical events, lives of notable
individuals, or the creation of the world according to their particular belief system. A calendar
based instead on the equinoctial precession could help universalize the passage of time since
this cycle belongs to no religion, nation, or race, and is scientifically calibrated to the most
universal yardstick—the motion of heavenly bodies. We could number our years by the
changing pole star, a universally accepted astronomical event.
During the Dark Ages the inability to agree on a universal calendar resulted largely from
political, cultural, and religious sectarianism, often reflecting a false sense of superiority. Arnold
Toynbee writes that the Christian Church “succumbed to the egocentric illusion . . . of treating
the transition from one [society] to another as the turning-point of all human history.”14 And
though other religions created calendars reflecting their beliefs, none was as successful in
globally enforcing its dating system. Consequently, the sun’s sidereal passages are numbered
according to the birth of an enigmatic personage upon whom the Christian Church projected
irrational hopes and fears. But unlike past cultures that produced these calendars, ours requires
interactions with other cultures; in fact, survival today is dependent on peaceful exchanges
between all people of the world. A universal calendar would propel us in this direction, helping
us expand the sense of self by reminding us that we are all part of the same human family and
by keeping us focused on broader ideals of progress and greater harmony of purpose.
In addition to a universal calendar, moving past the Dark Ages requires a new relationship to its
myths and other inventions. The ancients apparently lived without having to machinate personal
points of reference, making it sometimes difficult for modern scholars to date their writings.
According to the cycle theory and cutting edge cosmology, there is no beginning or end to the
cosmos since the substance of the universe is complete, reflecting a pantheistic eternal
existence perpetually in motions of ebb and flow like the rhythms of a dancer. Even the birth of
our universe is one of countless births in a multiverse of possibilities. By contrast, Dark Age
humanity, frightened by a cosmos whirling in continuous cycles, gave creation historicity by
fashioning myths about a confined beginning and end of time. Ethnocentrically placing
themselves at the center of a cosmos created by God primarily for humans may have helped
them gaze at the vastness of the night sky without being horrified by the nearly empty space.
These myths defined God as a creator separate from the fallen forms of creation and regarded
the purpose of human existence as a striving to regain God’s favor and divine presence for a
future ascent. End-time prophetic scenarios, such as the Day of Judgment, the resurrection of
the dead, and Armageddon to vanquish evil after which a vengeful God and the righteous would
triumph, reflected the Dark Age need for stable points of reference to mark the end of
humanity’s supposed exile.
Thus, while the higher age cultures of the ancient world viewed terrestrial and stellar cycles of
birth, death, and rebirth as gyrations affording all of life the opportunity to expand, the Dark
Ages spawned myths of the world as a stage for a cosmic battle between light and darkness,
with human souls at stake. In the Christian tradition, Paul’s belief in an imminent end to the
world not only shaped doctrines of the early church but still negatively influence Christians who
pray for the second coming of Christ.
Myths of historicity were often portrayed in stark dualistic terms such as light and dark, or good
and evil. One of the first religions to make its followers aware of the perceived conflict between
good and evil was Zoroastrianism, a Persian religion founded in the sixth century BCE by the
prophet Zoroaster. Borrowing and distorting the idea of twelve-thousand-year arcs of
degeneration and regeneration from the original cycle theory of ancient India, the religion
claimed that Zoroaster was born at the turning point of a battle in which the forces of good
gained the upper hand. After an additional twelve thousand years of battle, Saoshyant the
savior would come and rid the world of darkness. Followers of Zoroaster believed that his birth,
not astronomical calculations, heralded the beginning of the ascending ages of goodness. But
Saoshyant’s victory day marked the last day of history.
Other religions followed suit. Rejecting the idea of eternal cycles, cults formed in the Near East
around the hope that human action could accelerate the arrival of the glorious Day of the Lord,
even if that action meant killing heretics and infidels who stood in the way. These cults
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