Images from Göbekli Tepe and Other Neolithic sites reflected in Sumerian pictograms and texts – Part 2. Pagan Wings and Sailors’ Feet

• Images from Göbekli Tepe and Other Neolithic sites reflected in Sumerian pictograms and texts – Part 2. Pagan Wings and Sailors’ Feet
• Images from Göbekli Tepe and other Neolithic sites reflected in Sumerian pictograms and texts – Part 1. The Pillar and the Snake

Who else have civilised the world, and built the cities, if not the nobles and kings of Paganism? Who else have set in order the harbours and rivers? And who else have taught the hidden wisdom? To whom else has the Deity revealed itself, given oracles, and told about the future, if not the famous men amongst the Pagans? The Pagans have made known all this. They have discovered the art of healing of the soul, they have also made known the art of healing the body. They have filled the earth with settled forms of government, and with wisdom, which is the highest good. Without Paganism the world would be empty and miserable. (Thabit Ibn Qurra)

Pagan Wings

The term ‘pagan’ has long since been tainted with the negative connotation of uncivilised, heathen traditions. It’s given as deriving from classical Latin pagus with the meaning ‘of the countryside’, ‘rural’ and ‘rustic’, and has served as an unsavoury comparison to those new religions emerging around the beginning of our era. That said, no one actually knows when the concept of Paganism began or where its name was born—before the Romans’ use of it, that is to say—or what the sounds of it might originally have signified.

Thabit Ib Qurra, a mathematician and astronomer in 9^th century Baghdad, brings evidence that Paganism (with a capital P) was once recognised as something considerably more positive than we are led to believe and potentially extremely ancient—the first civilizers, builders and teachers of the world. He had a personal reason to so vehemently defend the lords of Paganism. He was born in Harran, some forty kilometres from the site of Göbekli Tepe and home to the famed Sabian astronomers of his time.

Harran is best known today for its beehive-shaped dwellings. All other signs of the Sabians and their ancestors have long since been destroyed, and the reputation of the Pagans worldwide still lies in tatters thanks to the steadfast repetition of the propaganda. According to Graham Hancock, from whom I borrowed this third-hand quote, the word actually employed was not ‘Pagan’ but its Syriac equivalent ‘hanputho’ meaning ‘the pure religion’. I might offer a source for that word in the global ancestral language, linking it to both celestial fish and snake through HA-AN with PU, but that is another long-since occulted thread of this linguistic matrix.

Pillar 43 in Circle D at Göbekli Tepe is unarguably the most famous of the T-shaped pillars so far uncovered at any of the sites in that region of southeastern Turkey. Its intriguing cast of low-relief carvings—the three baskets, the birds, scorpion and fox, etc.—have already been discussed and analysed in various ways. But however well-substantiated, none of those investigations have been able to take the story beyond the realm of theory, with the exception perhaps of its link to astronomy. It appears highly likely, even potentially proven, that astronomical observation was the predominant subject of that picture, particularly if the sculptor was one of the original wise Pagans mentioned by Ibn Qurra. But it is only thanks to the links with the later Sumerian script, the most ancient language of that land, that further substantial information can be added to the mix.

The prominent bird with outspread wings (fig.1) is, in all evidence, a major element in the Göbekli Tepe story, and so the Sumerian version of the story must also begin there:

The Pillar 43 bird can be usefully matched to the various frontal images of the Mesopotamian pictographic word (fig.2, 3, 4), which became alphabetic IDIGNA or DALLA for modern scholars and can be seen on tablets from the Uruk IV, ca.3350-3200 BC (fig.2 and 3) and Uruk III, ca.3200-3000 BC (fig.4) archaeological periods.²

The Sumerian bird is commonly preceded by ID₂, the ‘river’ in the texts and is given as an early name of the Tigris, a once fiercely flowing river which takes its source along with the more sedate Euphrates in the Taurus mountain range. Together, they flow southward, forming the natural boundaries of the region known as Mesopotamia; meso ‘between’ with ‘potamia’ the rivers’.

Apart from that name, the dictionary-given meanings of the bird include ‘bright’, ‘ring’ and, of course, ‘bird’. Fig.3 shows it to the right of another word, a circle dissected by a cross, most probably LU, which has the meaning ‘sheep’ to which I have long since added ‘light’, that of the moon. There also appears to be a black blob on the righthand wing of that bird, similarly placed to the circular form balancing on the wing of the Göbekli Tepe bird (fig.1). Is it merely some damage to the clay tablet? Impossible to say, but evocative nevertheless.

While the earlier versions (fig. 2 and 3) emphasize the bird’s neck with a round ‘hole’ or stamp, the later word (fig.4), probably written closer to the end of the 4^th millennium BC, clearly demonstrates the evolution towards a more abstract cuneiform rendering while simultaneously allowing a unique glimpse into its more complex meanings and links. The head and beak disappear completely and are replaced by a square block from which protrude two vertical lines.

The Binding Word

That element of fig.4 is closely similar to the words DUB, the ‘tablet’ (fig.5) and UM, the ‘cord’ (fig.6) already discussed in Part 1. It can also be usefully compared to the unnamed Sumerian word referenced as ZATU737 and to the T-shaped pillars of Göbekli Tepe (as discussed in Part 1):

The later Hittite examples of the pillars emphasize an enduring link to the notion of binding with rope or cord – equivalent to the truthful and thus binding words inscribed across a tablet in stone or clay. Some of the most ancient known clay tablets carry lines resembling woven cords, which serve to separate words or phrases. At the same time, the body and tail feathers of the bird in that later stage (fig.4) are seen to become increasingly fish-like – a rising fish with a clay tablet balanced on its nose. Just a chance resemblance? Perhaps not.

The main key to matching the Pillar 43 bird to the Sumerian script and to the IDIGNA bird of the Tigris River is found in the distinctive markings on its neck. Although the vulture is suggested by the shape of the beak, it could also be described as a ring-necked bird sporting what looks like a rather smartly tied neckerchief:

What was the original intention in the sculpting of those neck markings? Was it to portray a particular type of bird – perhaps an awkward attempt at the long and curved neck of a vulture – or was it to convey a more complex message concerning its presence and position there? A reference that would have been easily understood by the community gathered to look up and admire the carvings? The question might seem impossible to answer with any certainty, considering that some 11,600 years have passed since the sculptor stood over the mighty pillar 43, chisel in hand.

Figure 7 is a Sumerian word transliterated as GU₂, which has the meaning ‘neck’ (among others). Figure 9 is a different word; KAK, meaning ‘nail’, ‘peg’, ‘to hold’ and ‘arrowhead’ to which I add the prickly ‘thorn’ of the acacia shrub, essential to another underlying theme of this Mesopotamian story. Integrated into GU₂ (fig.9 into fig.7 and 8), the two merged together as (in this more striated example) the well-attested transliterated DUR/DOR (fig.8). Here below the transliterated forms and dictionary-given meanings:

KAK as an arrowhead might be usefully matched to the many similarly shaped snake heads at Göbekli Tepe. Then again, KAK as ‘to hold’ ensures the integrity of the knot and serves as a marker; the peg placed by a Mesopotamian mason into the foundations of a temple or palace wall to mark a name or moment of importance, for example. That was how I understood KAK when I came across it repeated twice in a very specific context on line 72 of Enki’s Journey to Nibru (re-translated and renamed Maestro of a Lost World – The Path to Sky-End).³

The Mark of Time

Peeled back to the source pictograms and positioned with a prominent gap between the two phrases as they appear (minus the inexistent line number) on the Ashmolean prism:

Overall, the positioning of the lines, along with other elements of that prism, provide numerous coded references to the astronomical cycle known as the precession of the equinoxes. Here, the words of line 72 visually mark the end of one cycle and the beginning of a new seventy-two year period.

For those who are not aware of its importance, number 72 signifies the time necessary for the sun to visibly precess (appear to flow backwards) by just one percent against a backdrop of the twelve constellations in its path. It is the only calculation that might just be observable during one human lifetime or, rather, two generations of observers passing that knowledge between them. The sun takes approximately 25,920 years to complete its cycle through all twelve constellations and to return to the point of the original observation.

Line 72 of Enki’s Journey to Nibru mimics the astronomer’s pause and their double notation, an end and a beginning, also understood in the underlying spiritual theme as a death and rebirth. That is how the scribe who created the magnificent prism now sitting largely unnoticed in the Ashmolean Museum set about the task of visually conveying the importance of that moment in the text – along with the meanings of the words, of course; two identical five-word phrases with KAK at their centres placed on either side of a significant hole (most clearly seen on the transcript of the prism). The text in its entirety is spread out over 129 lines with other special markers, of which one on the sixth word of the final line, giving 129.6 and indicating the 12,960 years necessary to complete half of the 25,920 years of the precessional cycle known as the Great Year.

Words can be manipulated, but numbers tend not to lie so easily. Enki’s Journey to Nibru was written by a well-informed astronomer-scribe. Encoded and quasi-invisible, their message has survived the destructive forces associated with intervening religions. With damage to just two words, the story is intact and available to transport us directly back to an unthinkably ancient epoch and to an intelligent, advanced civilisation that we were not meant to perceive.

And, as mentioned above, it is probably not coincidental that Sumerian KAK with A (also A-KA-KA) give the source of the word ‘acacia’, a shrub with psychoactive properties of which DMT – or that there exist other Sumerian texts containing allusions to both the precession of the equinoxes and to the mind-altering brews of an ancient Mesopotamian Pagan community. It must be said that John Marco Allegro was at least partially right when he wrote The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross in 1970.

Further evidence that GU₂/DUR (fig.7 and 8) is indeed the pictogram of the Tigris bird’s neck-ring is found by continuing to follow its evolution within the Mesopotamian language. Over time, the image of the headless bird on the 4^th millennium clay tablets (fig.4) was replaced by three abstract cuneiform words to indicate the river Tigris (shown here above on the right). The central word of that phrase is GU₂, the ‘gullet’ which I would extend for obvious reasons to ‘gulley’; the gulley of a wild and roaring river, the attributes of a ferocious beast. Thus, the Tigris becomes linked to the gullet of the Pillar 43 bird through its original Sumerian epithets. By further association of rivers with snakes, the bird becomes linked to both the snake (see BU in Part.1 and fig.11 here below) and to the warp thread matrix of a great weaver.

Sailors’ Feet

Nonsense and negation are comedic devices used more than once in The Story of Sukurru. There will be no chance of escaping a flood on the back of a flying dodo because the dodo doesn’t fly. And it will carry its heavy homeland stone in its gullet, making the impossibility of flight even more evident. The dodo was a natural comic character. (Before Babel, p.149)

That quote from Before Babel (published in 2019) refers to line 66 of The Instructions of Shuruppak (re-translated in 2017 and renamed The Story of Sukurru). The source word(s) DU.DU also appear(s) in Enki’s Journey to Nibru (Maestro of a Lost World – The Path to Sky-End). Another prominent feature of the central Pillar 43 bird – but one which seems to have been overlooked – is its feet, too large and too flat to easily correspond to any known species of bird capable of flight. They don’t appear to be the feet of a vulture. So, what was it that inspired the sculptor?

The Sumerian word that best corresponds to this feature is DU.DU (fig.11), a pair of feet with the dictionary-given meaning of ‘sailor’. Quite logically, DU.DU is commonly preceded by the word MA₂ (fig.10), meaning ‘boat’. That pictogram shows it to be a reed-woven boat such as might be found on the Euphrates river or sailing between Polynesian islands in the Pacific Ocean. In other cases, DU.DU is followed by the word NA (fig.12), one given meaning of which is ‘stone’. It might also translate to ‘heavy’.

DU.DU, here above on line 66 of The Story of Sukurru in the company of BU, the snake, offers up a phonetically accurate source for the name of the now-extinct flightless and stone-eating dodo. Alive and plodding around the island of Madagascar in the late 16^th century AD, the bird was named as such, we are told, by Portuguese or Dutch sailors. It’s all extremely vague. I am inclined to believe that they did not invent the name out of thin air or from other words but rather that they learned it directly from the islanders. The shape of the Pillar 43 bird’s beak is both dodo and vulture-like; potentially a combination of either bird with the otherwise flightless sailor indicated by the exaggerated form of the feet (see fig.15, 16 and 17 here below); both bird and sailor with linguistic links to boats and stones, to snakes, knots and umbilical cords – the knot being the navel.

The Ouroboros

The words DU.DU DU.DU NA (two pairs of feet, two sailors and a stone) appear in the context of a circular riddle on line 10 of the re-translated Enki’s Journey to Nibru, illustrated with an image borrowed from a Greek alchemical text (fig.14),

The earliest known image of a creature biting its own tail (fig.13) is inscribed on a Sumerian tablet from the 4^th millennium BC (also mentioned as EZEN/HER in Part 1, fig.21). Its head appears to be that of a bird. This one has so far remained unnoticed, and the so-called ouroboros is better known from an Ancient Egyptian inscription showing a pair of tail-biting snakes surrounding the body of the pharaoh Tutankhamun, ca.1235 BC on his shrine. It was given the Greek name ‘ouroboros’ from ouro- meaning ‘tail’ with -boros meaning ‘eating’.

A gnostic and alchemical symbol, Ouroboros expresses the unity of all things, material and spiritual, which never disappear but perpetually change form in an eternal cycle of destruction and re-creation. (Britannica.com)

The Mesopotamian bird-snake of ca.3300 BC is shown here alongside the considerably more recent Ouroboros dated to AD 1478 (fig.14); testimony to the quite extraordinarily enduring nature of this mysterious symbol. Note the two pairs of feet or rather the four paws belonging to the fox whose head replaces the bird in this case, that head nevertheless crowned with the comb of a cockerel or rooster. Two sailors with four feet between them or just one fox? Why has the ouroboros symbol more or less disappeared from our lives? Who set out to hide or to destroy that never-ending tale? And while I’m at it, who killed Pan?

All of the above is directly related to the two versions of the bird on Pillar 43 (fig.1 and fig.15), which is, without a doubt, the oldest example of a comic strip in the world. At the bottom of the T-shaped pillar, it carries a headless ithyphallic man on its back and at the top, it prepares to toss or to carry his skull into the ether.

Fig.16 is borrowed from a Mesopotamian seal impression. The full image shows the ubiquitous bird-man above two barking dogs, a common astronomical theme linked to the constellation of Orion (also called a giant and/or a rooster in ancient times), who is followed by the constellations of Canis Major (to include the star Sirius) and Canis Minor.

Fig.17 is a far later Greek vase image of the bird-man, this time more precisely identified as Orpheus, the great musician and son of Hermes, associated with the constellation of Lyra (to include the pole star Vega). Note that Greek Orpheus has long been suspected of links to a mysterious mind-altering-substances ring. Here he is seen innocently strumming the harp (symbol of Lyra) and riding on the swan that became the constellation of Cygnus in the Milky Way. That high-placed bird has its beak (and the star Deneb) close to and pointing towards the Great Rift at the very heart of our Milky Way galaxy. And that is not the end of this circular story – just the beginning.

Pagan Pan

Pan is represented in Egypt by the painters and the sculptors, just as he is in Greece, with the face and legs of a goat. They do not, however, believe this to be his shape, or consider him in any respect unlike the other gods; but they represent him thus for a reason which I prefer not to relate (…)

Whence the gods severally sprang, whether or not they had all existed from eternity, what forms they bore – these are questions of which the Greeks knew nothing until the other day, so to speak. (Herodotus, Histories, Book 2:44 and 53, trans. G. Rawlinson)

According to Herodotus, Greek Pan was one of the first gods and associated with goats through some unspeakable analogy. Pan can be linked to another very similar Pagan god, ithyphallic Priapus, now thought to have once been extremely important to sailors, as evidenced by the number of phallic talismans recovered from ancient shipwrecks. Where did the Greeks – or perhaps the Egyptians before them – find and adopt that rustic, prancing, potentially immoral pagan, both archer and shepherd? Where and in what form? Long ago in some secret chamber, an ancient underground library somewhere…mentioned in clay or stone, or on papyrus, or in a story punched out on copper scrolls, green with age? Who can say?

It’s one thing to make unsubstantiated assertions about the ultimate source of that enigmatic figure of Greek mythology. It’s quite another to bring proof of his existence in the most ancient written language of Mesopotamia more than two thousand years earlier than Pan’s mention in the Histories of Herodotus – and long before Latin pagus was coined.

Here above are the reconstructed pictographic forms of the last six words of line 44 of The Story of Sukurru (ca.2600 BC). PA, the wings, with GAN, the crucible, womb and Milky Way, are common collocations that lie hidden under their transliterated form SAG₂ in numerous texts. Not wanting to detract from my original intention, which was to lay out as plainly as possible the true meanings of each word of that text, uncorrupted by my own preferences and preconceptions, I translated them somewhat awkwardly at the time to:

…the sheep-knowing, breath-bearer for his task as spirit.

The context is that of a sailor tied to the mast of his ship to prevent him from playing his flute, more than reminiscent of the scene in Homer’s poem when Odysseus is tied to the mast to stop him from falling under the spell of the sirens’ songs. The words must be read with the underlying theme(s) in mind, a reference to the initiate’s difficult journey during which he surrenders all control over his environment and finds himself helplessly obliged to face his worst fears, a reference to the flight of the spirit, to death and rebirth, to trust and to the use of mind-altering substances. Here is another equally correct but infinitely more evocative rendering of those words:

…the light (enlightenment) to know, on the wind and on the wing

of the Bird of Destiny carried to the womb of the Milky Way.

PA is also often found collocated with LU, the ‘sheep’ and ‘light’ (see LU here above and also with fig.3). Written together, they have the dictionary-given meaning ‘shepherd’, but we already know that the original Pan was no ordinary shepherd. He appears in disguise, transliterated as ‘sipad’ on lines 15 and 20 of the Sumerian King List, another document that encodes certain important astronomical references, particularly through its line positions. PA.LU, the shepherd, appears as such on line 15, preceded by the ‘celestial risen/rising son’ commonly known as Dumuzid.

On line 20 of the King List, EN, the ‘Lord’, precedes the shepherd. Psalm 23 comes instinctively to mind. It begins:

The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil for you are with me;

your rod and your staff comfort me.

• Images from Göbekli Tepe and Other Neolithic sites reflected in Sumerian pictograms and texts – Part 2. Pagan Wings and Sailors’ Feet
• Images from Göbekli Tepe and other Neolithic sites reflected in Sumerian pictograms and texts – Part 1. The Pillar and the Snake