You are going to discover several trios of mythological deities who have in common the uncertainty about their status — are they divine or more than divine? — and the ambiguity of the attitude of the gods as humans towards them. Each in its own way, the Fates, the Moiras, the Nornes, the Keres, the Harpies and the Erynies preside over the destinies of the living beings.
For the Romans, the Fates Nona, Decima and Morta govern the destiny from birth to death. Under the appearance of spinners, they measure the lives of men and decide their destiny. In Latin Parcae, the sparing ones, nicknamed Tria Fata, they resemble strangely the Moiras of the Greeks or the Nornes of the Nordic mythology. Originally there was only one Fate, Parca Maurtia, goddess of births. Under Greek influence, the Romans adopted the model of the Moiras, which had the appearance of three spinners. (source)
Nona is Clotho for the Greeks, the one who runs away. The youngest of the Parques is the one who traces the origin of human destinies, from conception to birth. She is often dressed in a long blue dress, wearing a crown made up of seven stars. Are these the seven stars of the Great Bear? I am inclined to believe it. I also note that the blue robe and the crown of stars were taken up by Mary the mother of Jesus. Nona holds a cattail that descends from heaven to earth. This reinforces the thesis of her heavenly origin. In my opinion, Nona comes from Alcor, like all the gods of Hyperborea. Maybe from a more powerful place?
In French classical times, her name was Francized in Cloton. Ugly. Let’s stick to Nona and write 9. Why? Simply because Nona, in Latin, is 9, the number nine in women. We sometimes read that its name means “nine” since the gestation time of the human species lasts nine months. This explanation is a little short, and not very rational. Indeed, from the beginning of the pregnancy, the Roman mother called Nona the spinner so that she begins to spin the destiny of her child. So Nona was involved from conception. Intrauterine life is part of life, it makes sense. The true meaning of his name must therefore be sought elsewhere, 9.
Decima, Lachésis of the Greeks, patiently unfolds the thread of life on his cattail. If Nona is 9 called because of the nine months that she intervened, how do you explain the 10 of Decima? Would all human life last 10 months? 10 years? 10 decades? I’m at the end of my Latin… Her Greek name is clearer: Fate, Destiny, or even Fortune in the sense of the arcane X.
Do not think that Decima evokes death, as the word decimated might suggest. Decimation was a practice of the Roman legions who lined up their defeated enemies to count them from one to ten. Each tenth enemy was shot down. Decima means ten, with no particular connotation. Like Nona, the name of the second Parque remains an enigma. If I find a lead, I will let you know right here.
Morta the Death cuts the thread, as its name indicates it quite clearly. Its Greek name, Atropos, is just as clear. It means the Inflexible. So much for the Fates. The Edith Piaf fan that I am could not help but make the parallel with the song that launched in 1946 the protégés of Edith, Les Compagnons de la Chanson. The song is called The Three Bells. Listen to how the new religion is playing with the old one.
The Moiras of the Greeks served as a model for the Roman Parks, useless for me to repeat.
The Nornes (term of the old norrois, plural nornir) of the Nordic mythology are comparable to the Dises which regulate the destiny of all the inhabitants of the nine worlds of the Nordic cosmogony.
Although the Nornes are quite numerous, according to the interpretation of Snorri Sturluson of the Völuspá, the three most important are called Urd, Verdandi and Skuld and reside near the Puits d’Urd, the Puits du Destin. They draw water from it and water the Yggdrasil tree so that its branches never rot. The Nornes are described as three powerful jötunns whose arrival ended the golden age of the gods.
In addition to these three Nornes, there are many other Nornes, who arrive when a person is born in order to fix his future. These Nornes may be benevolent or malicious; they were considered respectively responsible for the happy or unhappy events of life. (source)
The Nornes are often called the Lindworms. And sometimes the Dises. Nowadays they are quite similar to the Greek Moiras and Roman Fates. They all got an ambiguous status, superior to that of the former gods who, like humans, must obey their decrees.
The Keres (in the singular Ker) haunted the battlefields to drink the blood of the dying and send the souls of the dead to the Underworld. Black in skin, their clothes were dyed red by the blood of the wounded.
In classical times, the Keres are merged with the Moires, the Érinyes or the Harpies according to Plato. (source)Laws, 937 It must be remembered that Plato was a conscientious reporter of earlier sources, those of the former gods, transmitted by the Celtic Druids and the Egyptian priests of Sais, to which he did not understand much.
In the Iliad, Homer makes Keres the destiny personifying the life and death of the hero. Thus Achilles has the choice between two Keres: one which would give him a long life away from war and another shorter but more glorious. Zeus weighs on a gold scale the Achilles and Hector Keres. We remember the very negative opinion of the great Heraclitus of Ephesus on this clown of Homer…
Homer deserved to be driven from the contests with a stick, and similarly Archilochus.
I note that ker means in Breton. So Kermaria means in Mary. Would the fearsome Keres be our home, our place, our home? Or is it necessary to see there a proof of their prescience by decrytant ker ES: at Eden Saga? Which would be very unfair, because if there is indeed violence and blood in the Saga as in every page of human history, there are also charming love stories, fascinating insights into the technology of the former gods, specific indictments against the abuses and injustices of yesterday, the day before and today, a complete method to achieve awakening, advice lived from inner progress, a mass of new information for your personal development…
Stop. I’m going to be criticized for advertising. Not even. I did enough before retirement,when I ran my advertising agency and why would I do more? Eden Saga has nothing to sell. Here everything is free. And believe me, it will remain free after me. Wherever I go, wherever I am, I will see to it. Take my word.
Deities of devastation and vengeance, the black-winged Harpies are faster than the wind. Invulnerable, cajoling, they devour everything in their path, leaving only their feces.
Their features are of a virgin; a devouring instinct
From their swarm raptor leads wandering flight;
A horrible thinness digs their greedy flanks,
Who, always filling, always remaining empty,
Overloaded with food, without being fed,
In an infectious fluid make the debris,
And the flow of this impure lees
Poison the air, and stain the green.”
(source)Virgil, Aeneid, chant III
According to Hesiod, they have a bird’s winged body and a woman’s head. Virgil gives them girly faces and claws of bird of prey. Homer actually deities of storms. Zeus bitches for Apollonios of Rhodes, they steal souls and children.
In my country of Brittany, the Korrigans fulfill this role. Like the Harpies or the Erynies, they are respected because they are feared. They are known to steal children. The newborn, a few days after birth, is kidnapped by a korrigan who takes his place in the cradle. If it is the same size as the baby, it does not look the same. Its tanned and wrinkled face suggests its identity.
Korrigan doesn’t hide it, by the way. Its insults, its quolibets, its whistles and its sound farts create in the house of the little one disappeared a charged atmosphere. Parents are desperate. Desperate times call for desperate measures. He is always in the village some old, a little backward, a little bewitching, knowing, disenventing, who will know how to recover the child. The anti-korrigan recipes are downright hilarious. How fear does not prevent irony. Believe without believing, this is the Rule of the Warrior…
Very ancient deities, chthonian goddesses of the Vengeance of crime, the Erinyes or Erinnyes did not recognize the authority of the gods of the new generation and had no other laws than theirs. Theirs, really? Or those of the central power of which they were only agents?
They lived in Tartarus or Erèbe, the Underworld of antiquity, which lie under our feet and which accredit the hypothesis of hollow earth. In the Orestes, Eschyle directs a chorus of fifty Erinyes or Eumenides. They were later identified in the Furies (or Dirae) among the Romans. Euripides was the first to specify that there were three of them and later they were named: Megaera (Hate), Alecto (Implacable) and Tisiphone (Revenge).
At first innumerable, then only fifty in Eschyl, their number is reduced to three in Euripides, marking the decadence with the increasingly sensitive distance from the Galactic Centre. The emissaries of the central power were only three, under the influence of the other trios named above. Decline of morals, decline of the Law, decline of order.
At the time of Euripides, there was no longer any memory of the ancient legends, so failing to understand them, we were content to follow fashion. Thus a great deal of valuable information has probably been lost, trampled, distorted by generations of ignorant people.
The patient reader who’s been following me so far has to wonder where I’m going with this. Just this. The myths that have come to us have been retouched over time by generations that have forgotten everything. Understanding nothing of what they were copying, they adapted to their idea, unable in their primitive times to imagine the high technology and multiple powers of the former gods. Almost magical powers…
I also wanted to show how our creative gods have nothing to do with the current image: an only God in three persons, Father, Son, Spirit. Or rather Yahweh, God, Allah. All three unique and yet different. Our creators are pretty pathetic in front of the Great Gods. They obey their decrees, bend to their decisions and submit to their judgments. Subjected to servility, they are scared to death by the simple statement of their name.
And then I pursue my quest for the truth about angels. They are great and much taller than we are. They do more than good. Some of them are sadistic executioners and unscrupulous murderers. They do not carry us especially in their hearts. Most of them don’t care about short-lived humans. But some of them have a grudge against us. I’ve seen them go after men. I’ve seen their armies defeat ours. Their troops are more numerous than the grains of sand, more formidable than our worst weapons of mass destruction, more ferocious than a pack of saber-toothed tigers.
And that damn myth of guardian angels takes a hit. The Harpies, the Erynies, the Moiras and the Fates are Angels, servants of the Great Gods of the Galactic Center. They have nothing of the pretty pink bottoms that adorn our pedophile churches. They are not at all cute and nice. Why was this absurd idea put in our heads? Why this shameless lie? Is it just another trap?
The Bible is full of the homeric brawls that these gigantic flying creatures indulge each other. Jesus himself said that his Father could send him twelve armies of angels. It may be that all humans have forgotten the truth. Forgotten where we come from. Who raised us. Who we belong to.
We are only the cattle of the gods, parked and guarded by the Angels. We must admit that fact, even if the whole finality escapes me. Is it just the law of the fittest? In that case, poor of us…
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