The legend of innumerable centuries states that Aeneas, with his Trojans, had the place of honor with the King Evander and the venerable senators at the table of the feast...
Then picked men and the priest who served the altar
Vied with one another to bring roast meat,
To load bread-baskets with the gifts of Ceres,
Milled and baked, and to pour out the wine.
Aeneas with his Trojans feasted then
On a beef chine and flesh of sacrifice.
When they were fed, their appetites appeased,
Royal Evander spoke:
“No empty-headed
Superstition, blind to the age-old gods,
Imposed this ritual on us, and this feast,
This altar to a divine force of will.
No, Trojan guest, we carry out these rites,
Dangers in the past. Look first of all
At this high overhanging rocky cliff;
See how rock masses have been scattered out,
Leaving a mountain dwelling bare, forsaken
Where the crags fell in avalanche. Here was once
A cave with depths no ray of sun could reach,
Where Cacus lived, a bestial form, half man,
And the ground reeked forever with fresh blood,
While nailed up in vile pride on his cave doors
Were men’s pale faces ghastly in decay.
Vulcan had fathered this unholy brute
Who as he moved about in mammoth bulk
Belched out the poisonous fires of the father.
After long prayers, time brought even to us
A god’s advent and aid [the eighth labor].
...Caught by the light
Unlooked for, and closed in by stone, the giant
Bellowed as never in his life before
While from above with missiles Heracles
Let fly at him, calling on every mass
At hand to make a weapon, raining down
Dry boughs and boulders like millstones.”
[This was in revenge for the theft of Heracles’ cattle]
...They renewed the feast,
Bringing a welcome second course, and heaped
The altar tops with dishes. For a hymn
At the lit altars came the Salii,
All garlanded with poplar-files of dancers,
Here of the young, there of the elder men,
Who praised in song the feats of Heracles,
His story: how he grappled monsters first,
Choking his step-mother’s twin snakes,
...And killed the Lion under Nemea’s crag!
...[Even Cerberus,] the Keeper
Of Orcus shook, sprawled in his gory cave
On bones partly devoured; and took this dog
Out of darkness into the light.
[This is the sexual instinct that must guide us to the Final Liberation.]
When they had carried out the ritual
They turned back to the town. And, slowed by age,
The king walked, keeping Aeneas and his son
Close by his side with talk of various things
To make the long path easy.
The king Evander, founder unaware
Of Rome’s great citadel, said:
“...In that first time, out of Olympian heaven,
Saturn came here in flight from Jove in arms
And exile from a Kingdom lost, he brought
These unschooled men together from the hills
Where they were scattered, gave them laws, and chose
The name of Latinum, from its latency
Or safe concealment in this countryside.
In his reign were the golden centuries
Men tell of still, so peacefully he ruled,
Till gradually a meaner, tarnished age
Came on with fever of war and lust of gain.
Then came Ausonians and Sicanians...”
Just after this, as he went on he showed
The altar and the gate the Romans call
Carmental, honourings as of old the nymph
And prophetess Carmentis, first to sing
The glory of Pallanteum and Aeneas’
Great descendants. Then he showed the wood
That Romulus would make a place of refuge,
Then the grotto called the Lupercal
Under the cold crag, named in Arcadian fashion
After Lycaean Pan. And then as well
He showed the sacred wood of Argiletum,
“Argus’ death,” and took oath by it, telling
Of a guest, Argus, put to death. From there
He led to our Tarpeian site and Capitol,
All golden now, in those days tangled, wild
With underbrush — but awesome even then.
A strangeness there filled country hearts with dread
And made them shiver at the wood and Rock.
“Some god,” he said, “it is not sure what god,
Lives in this grove, this hilltop thick with leaves.
Arcadians think they’ve seen great Jove himself
Sometimes with his right hand shaking the aegis
To darken sky and make the storm clouds rise
Towering in turmoil. Here, too, in these walls
Long fallen down, you see what were two towns,
Monuments of the ancients, Father Janus
Founded one stronghold, Saturn the other,
Named Janiculum and Saturnia.”
All of this is quoted from The Aeneid, book VIII, by Virgil, the poet of Mantua, the master of Dante, the Florentine.
Jesus, the great Kabir, was crucified between two thieves, one to his right and another to his left...
Agathos, the good thief within our interior, steals the Sexual Hydrogen Si-12 from our sexual organs with the evident purpose of crystallizing the Holy Spirit, the Great Conciliator within ourselves, here and now...
Cacus is the evil thief who, hidden inside the tenebrous cave of the human infra-consciousness, treacherously pillages the sexual center of our organism for the satisfaction of the brute animal passions...
The cross is an astonishing, marvellous, and formidable sexual symbol. The vertical branch is masculine, the horizontal is feminine. The clue of all powers is found in their crossing...
The black lingam inserted into the feminine yoni forms a cross. This is well known by the divine and by humans...
We can and must set the following postulation as a corollary: Agathos and Cacus, when crucified on the Mount of the Skulls, to the right and left of the great Kabir Jesus, emphatically allegorize white tantra and black tantra, the good and the evil magic of sexuality...
The Bible, from Genesis to Apocalypse, is nothing but a series of historical events of the great struggle between the followers of Agathos and Cacus, white and black magic, the adepts of the right-hand path, the prophets, and the adepts of the left-hand path, the levites...
Inside the abysses of Uranus, I had to reduce to cosmic dust the evil thief, the tenebrous Cacus, that thief who previously pillaged the sexual center of my organic machine for the vile satisfaction of animal passions...
When I entered inside the vestibule of the sanctuary, I remembered that I had been in that place in foregone times...in ancient times....
I, with the eye of Shiva, saw diverse tantric movements of Aquarius; the Gnostic people were standing out among them, whose flags were victoriously waving in all of the countries of the Earth...
Unquestionably, Uranus, Aquarius, is one hundred percent sexual, magical, and revolutionary...
Thus, this is how I returned into the heaven of Uranus, the Mahaparanirvana, the abode of the Cherubim...
Thus, this is how I re-conquered that brilliant conscious state that I had lost in forgone times, when I fell at the feet of the marvellous Eve of Hebraic mythology...
