Category Archives: Ben Fairhall

The Stars Are Falling Review by Ben Fairhall

41qAiZSkOtL._SL250_The Stars Are Falling: Reasons To Believe We Are Enslaved
By The Serpent 

by Matthew Delooze

ISBN: 978-1-9057-4703-0

Matthew’s website:



England still awaits. David Icke, for all his faults, has at least thrown the conspiracy research field wide open for any number of young pretenders. And, in his usual mercantile way, proven it can be a lucrative branch of the infotainment biz: ripe for some entrepreneurial soul to hoist a Wannabee upon. These funded felons will surely not be long in appearing; but a more noble path has been selected by the latest contender, Matthew Delooze. Though his second publication, The Stars Are Falling: Reasons To Believe We Are Enslaved By The Serpent promises interesting things to come, Arthur’s long slumber continues undisturbed.

In many ways, the book is a testament to the evil of influence. Not for nothing did those naughty punks- who come in for a bit of a kicking from Delooze, for reasons we will cover- exhort the world to KILL YOUR IDOLS. Delooze would benefit from a bit of the same. We give Wayne Rooney and his ilk the Bread and Circus treatment (quite rightly)- isn’t it time now to get our own house in order? These pesky reptilians et al have quite a lot to answer for. Ten years ago Bilderberg and the Phantom Menance was quite enough to be getting along with. Then Icke had to stick his oar in and, well, the rest is history.

How much horsepower this stuff possesses I don’t know. I know of one source who thinks we could be looking at the foundations of a new popular paradigm, though I think it highly unlikely. The reptilian agenda does alight upon vital issues, which is (indirectly) why it continues to fascinate and repel in equal measure. Not for what it gets right, but for what it discreetly occludes. Continue digging, and a splendid story will reveal itself: one whose origins lie in Sumeria; and beyond that, in Atlantis. But it lends itself not at all to pecuniary concerns; which is why David Icke’s grasp on the Grail is slippery at best. Delooze needs to be looking for serpents closer to home, in this writer’s opinion; or is that just sour blue grapes?

And why have the Ennead now been fingered as proto-Illuminists? There is certainly something shady about Zahi Hawass (rather too similar to Crowley’s Aiwass for my liking) but the Egyptian civilisation was one of the highest ever seen. Aspects of Egyptian symbology may- like the antiquities themselves- have been held to ransom ever since, but let’s not mistake the map for the territory. The same might be said of the royals. The full extent of their meddling will probably never be revealed; and yet, might not the alternatives be far worse still? The aims of the original Illuminati, according to Nesta Webster, included ‘the abolition of Monarchy and all ordered Government’; do we really want to be doing their job for them?

Despite these concerns, however, the very fact that Delooze is doing what he does deserves praise. Any assault on the homogeneity of received wisdom is valuable, even when agreement is elusive. Mind you, there are times- rare, I will concede- when the official story might just be the right one. Delooze’s expedition to the Temple of Hathor in Dendera, for example, which forms the central (Djed) pillar of the book, results in a bout of hieroglyphic eccentricity of which Von Daniken would not be ashamed. Delooze is more than prepared to take a bit of stick for his beliefs, however, and betrays a hearty contempt for ‘experts’. And on the dynamics of incarnation- and the terrible consequences of ignoring our intuition- he writes with a rare clarity that suggests there is much more still to come.

But about those punks… ‘God Save The Queen’, it would appear- the 1977 version- is far from being the vituperative republican anthem you might have taken it for. According to Delooze, whose broadest concern is with the subliminal triggers with which humanity is perpetually blasted- despite all apparent leeriness, the message is still the same: monarchy, continuity, and the maintenance of the status quo. Whether a ‘fascist regime’ or a perfect reflection of the heavens, the words still inhabit a reality in which Monarchy is God. A competing conspiracy theory, in other words, to the official one; which holds that a bout of chart-rigging prevented the Pistols from claiming a rightful number one in Jubilee Week. Live 8, too, you will be pleased to hear, gets a bit of verbal. Whether I share his conviction that the ouroborous-inspired symbol declares the ongoing dominion of the Ennead is besides the point. He highlights some extremely relevant information regarding the ritual locations selected by Geldof (and friends) and the strange timing which saw the attacks on London in the very same week.

In the final chapter he hits his stride with an excellent summary of the ongoing hypnotic trance in which humanity is mired. The final sentence is a classic, a sweet pay-off for the persevering.

Ben Fairhall



The Secret Diaries of an Alchemist Review by Ben Fairhall

tsdoaa120The Secret Diaries of an Alchemis: The Egyptian Mysteries Revealed

by Lewis da Costa

ISBN: 0 9578530 68

Publisher: Fountainhead Press


I regret that this book, and its predecessor are no longer in print. Lewis passed away in 2005. I was once in contact with someone who had copies but I no longer am.
If by any divine chance that person reads this please contact me. If only to let me know that all is OK.

Many thanks, Ellis


In their seminal work, The Holy Blood and The Holy Grail, authors Baigent, Lincoln and Leigh are confronted with the enormous task of sifting through the complex and voluminous material which comprises the now famous ‘Prieure documents.’

‘At times,’ they write, ‘we nearly dismissed the whole affair as an elaborate joke, a hoax of extravagant proportions. If this were true, however, it was a hoax that certain people seemed to have been sustaining for centuries- and if one invests so much time, energy and resources in a hoax, can it really be called a hoax at all? In fact the interlocking skeins and the overall fabric of the ‘Prieure documents’ were less a joke than a work of art- a display of ingenuity, suspense, brilliance, intricacy, historical knowledge and architectonic complexity worthy of, say, James Joyce. And while Finnegan’s Wake may be regarded as a joke of sorts, there is no question that its creator took it very seriously indeed.’

It all reminds us somewhat of Johann Valentin Andrea, the German writer who confessed to having written The Chemical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreuz as a ‘ludibrium.’ And Israel Regardie, sifting through the the original Golden Dawn documents, utterly convinced that neither McGregor Mathers- for all his skill- nor William Wyn Westcott could possibly have been responsible for creating the riches he therein discovered.

A similar conundrum faces the reviewer of The Secret Diaries of An Alchemist. Just as a second-rate actor is incapable of doing justice to King Lear, how does an average person even begin to review a work that bears comparison with everything listed above? The Prieure documents- and the Secret Diaries themselves- lend credence to Da Costa’s big idea: that the King James Bible is, in its entirety, a mathematically-encrypted cipher whose function is not to preserve history but a secret. (We will get to what the secret is shortly.) In them, the reader must come face to face (or soul to soul) with minds so vast as to afford the smallest of glimpses into the kind of consciousness capable of computing the biblical gematria. The thesis becomes plausible, so long as there are initiate-trickers like Lewis still around, delighting, confounding, revealing and concealing; and displaying the fruits of a total immersion in the loftiest of Gnosis.

And yet Lewis- according to his own estimate- was barely ‘capable of uncovering five per cent’ of the mysteries of scripture; and as a reviewer faced with the task of uncovering his own inner workings I can relate to the inadequacy. This is never going to sell like The Da Vinci Code, despite the revised fictional conceit with which the diaries themselves are sandwiched: an expedient made necessary by certain factions with book-burning tendencies. And Lewis knows that he is writing for a very select audience, and admits as much. Many are called but few are chosen. But for those who manage initiation even to the 37th degree (which amounts to two hundred pages of closely-packed text) the alchemical rewards are huge.

For this is a book which truly does transform. It also enrages and frustrates; as for Lewis, his only aim is to wake you up. But he is far from being any sort of ‘peak performance’ guru. This is not Chicken Soup for the Soul; and if that is the kind of narcoleptic you prefer then Lewis would far rather you remained in bed. I can say this with some certainty because the spirit of the man draws close in his words: you too will swoon to his poesy, and fall in love with a certain Petit Prince all over again. And if you should happen to catch a distant gale of laughter on the wind, that will be Lewis having earned his reward.

There are unexpected pleasures, in fact, to be derived from almost every page. Open at random and watch the gemstones pile up. Ever wondered about the real secret of Rosslyn? (And if you haven’t then this book is not for you, nor even this review.) ‘Its real significance would seem to be enshrined in the red serpent/rose line (the Paris meridian.’) Let those with ears, hear. Or have you, and by God I know I have, ever contemplated the intimate relations between the sacred and the profane? ‘Esoteric art- synonymous with erotica- and the thirteenth stone’s location in the genitalia of the Holy of Holies, a part of the human body that we instinctively hide.’ But I am trespassing upon the secret here, and there is only so much that I dare to reveal. Suffice it to say- and let this serve as a fitting tribute: Unstable atoms are multi-dimensional.

I will write more about this book in due course. Right now, this book is writing me. An esoteric classic that will honour the mantelpiece of any serious reader: Lewis Da Costa, your time has finally arrived.
Ben Fairhall


Journey’s In the Dreamtime Review by Ben Fairhall

513B7T4FCYL._SL250_Journey’s In the Dreamtime

by Neil Hague

Publisher: Quester Publications

Author’s website:



An emphasis on the role of the artist and the techno-shamen of the present cinema era, in fashioning, manipulating and ultimately sustaining the present status quo is perhaps the principal achievement of this major new book. Hague writes not as a critic, whose linear ‘almost hierarchical’ approach to art history comes in for a well-deserved kicking; but primarily, as an artist and self-described visionary. Is he overstating his own case when he ascribes to the artist-shaman (inseparable categories in Hague’s eyes) the role of prime mover in the formation of spiritual traditions? Perhaps. The old question comes to mind however, equally as valid in the case of art as it is about drugs (or psychedelics.) Nor, did God invent drugs, or did drugs invent God… But, did God invent art- or did art invent God? In today’s terms, did God invent Hollywood…?

The entire cosmic conspiracy can be described as the manipulation of the Weak electromagnetic force which permeates all bodies in the Universe. ‘In truth this vibration is anything other than weak, it is the all powerful creative ‘Love energy’ that can be used to reshape and heal our world.’ Celebrity culture- like all of the manipulated belief systems and sociological structures which have preceded it- is just another ruse designed to funnel this enormously powerful Force along channels favourable to the elite. The celebrity-fixated mass hypnosis which pervades our global village is the latest saturnian (Satanic) plot to pour life-force into puppets, and deny ourselves the benefit of our innate spiritual resources.

This is an unusual twist on the predator consciousness and its machinations, which offers the reader much more than merely Children of the Matrix reloaded. As Neil is fond of pointing out, however, there is always more still left to know. Hague is also clued-up to the ever-inventive twists the myth-makers will apply to keep us safely ‘externalised.’ The New Age (which gets very little airing in this volume, presumably because many other researchers have identified the movement’s symbolic links with the older theocracies) is clearly not the only prison religion of choice in today’s market. The media, sporting spectacles, fashion- yes, even celebrity culture itself- are identified as ready-to-wear designer identities just as eager to ensnare the unconscious as the overtly ‘religious‘ programmes.

The polar axis of the book rests upon an ongoing discussion between Hague, his muses and his influences over the precise ‘nature’ of the extra-terrestrial, inter-dimensional presence. What will be frustrating for the pedant is that the question never achieves full resolution; and the debate is staged thematically, discursively, rather than being hit head-on. This discursive quality makes the book a pleasurable journey for students seeking inspiration, rather than readers seeking facts. The latter, indeed, will struggle to make much headway with the material they will find here: because, in dealing with art and symbols, the material must meet the reader half-way. This takes a particular kind of reader, and seeks to advance a particular kind of thinking. Both are species in decline, the proud achievement of an occult conspiracy whose existence Neil Hague is at pains to expose.

The subject of DNA weaves in and out like… like DNA itself. We learn that the high percentage of dark matter in the universe (approximately 90 percent) can be intuitively, and ‘scientifically’, equated with the similar quantity of what the ivory-tower persuaders have dubbed our ‘junk DNA.’ (And the un-tapped capacity of the human brain.) In probing the origins of the creatures, monsters and ‘aliens’ of pre-history and the future, Hague repeatedly returns to this source. This is a matter to be hinted at, and not to be revealed: for the key to such questions lies in the mystery. My particular faculty for mystery, however, was sorely stretched at times; until, with perfect correspondence, I came across the following quotation from one of Neil Hague’s own attested inspirations:

‘There are 240,000 miles of neural threads in the human brain, enough to stretch from earth to the moon. On every micro-meter of these threads there are 250’000 units of information. This data is recorded only as pictograms, as composite images and not as words.’

[Michael Tsarion, The Subversive Use of Sacred Symbolism in the Media]

Tsarion goes on to remark that this symbolic data consists of the entire history of evolution, ‘our phylogenetic race memory…the Universal Intelligence.’ It suddenly becomes clear that many UFO ‘sightings’ and monster folklore is the result of accessing a little more than usual of the giant spectrum of our ‘junk DNA.’ Thus we see with perfect clarity that the Kingdom of Heaven is indeed- and always was- within us. Not merely mystically, but physically… Encoded within our very cells is the intelligence of all that has ever been.

And they call this junk?

This insight also resolves the mystery of the so-called collective unconscious, much beloved of transpersonal analysts: the source of the archetypes which haunt the mind, and which find expression in a myriad of different ways. These entities dwell in the junk DNA, and are not merely symbols so much as residual memories of the recurring themes of all that has been (and all that may come?) The collective unconscious is the junk DNA, and it is collective to the extent that we are all individual recordings of everything that has preceded us.

This also brilliantly solves the SETI problem, which Hague lambasts for assuming an overly ‘tecchie’ approach to the question of ‘alien’ life. (Even inverted commas fails to compensate for the sheer idiocy of the term.) Instead of looking ‘out there’- with gizmos – Hague wants us to start looking ‘in here’: to the realm of DNA, and even to the world of microbes. Microscopes have confirmed that many insects, smaller organisms and even plant cells assume an ‘alien’, mythical- or even human- appearance up close; with the evolution of everything encoded in our genes, is it not feasible that this is the source of the growing numbers of extra-terrestrial sightings recorded each year? Recordings of ancient or futuristic epochs, contained in our own bodies, accessible through visionary states (including via psychedelics) and then thought into ‘reality’ by the laws of the hologram? If ‘tecchie’ fans (of whom there are no shortage) wish to object that this effectively denigrates all extra-terrestrials to the apparently inferior level of ‘non-physical’, Hague points out that even ‘our so-called physical reality can be shown not to be solid- nothing is!’

I would certainly concur that any quest for extra-terrestrial life (as though a quest were needed) which rests exclusively on a desire for physical evidence is a dead-end. It reminds me of the words spoken by one Jason Andrews- himself no slouch in these matters- to Louis Theroux, and quoted by the same in his book The Call of the Weird.

‘If you need physical evidence, you’re not ready to see.’

Ben Fairhall


Walking Between Worlds ~ Belonging to None Review by Ben Fairhall

410CUyEstRL._SL250_Walking Between Worlds~ Belonging to None

by Ann Andrews

ISBN: 978-0979175039

Publisher: Reality Press


* This book was originally entitled, ‘Jason, My Indigo Child’ and was published by Wildflower Press.
Now published by Reality Press under the title of ‘Walking Between Worlds: Belonging To None’.
It has now been updated, expanded, and retitled.

In ‘Abduction’, the former Harvard psychiatrist John E. Mack describes his research thus:

‘What is unique to the investigation of the abduction phenomenon… is the necessity for human consciousness to expand in order to allow us the capacity to conceive beyond our present technological abilities and perceptions of reality…’

This process can be, and usually is, a very frightening one. One of the troubling paradoxes of the human condition is our strange resistance to having our horizons broadened. Those who are cursed to attempt it have an unfortunate habit of being crucified for their efforts, sometimes literally.

Fortunately no such extremities have yet been visited upon today’s subject, though his family might disagree. His public profile is still reasonably low, partly for these reasons. His initial experiences with representatives of the press (which I most assuredly am not) were negative to say the least. A boy of thirteen at the time, the general consensus amongst our muckraking friends was that Jason probably just needed to get a few more early nights and perhaps learn some manners.

Other experiences in this young man’s life, however, would certainly be regarded as extreme. No mere ‘abductee’, Jason- through an initially traumatic process of awakening- has since discovered that he is, to put it crudely, more than human. He is one of the line of ‘walk-ins’, a term popularized by the late Tuesday Lobsang Rampa, another pioneer who wasn’t always afforded the respect he deserved. What this all means is that Jason, by his own admission, is a star child, an ‘Indigo’: one of a number of keenly psychic young people with advanced healing and projection abilities.

As if this were not difficult enough, his mother has written a book about him. Ann Andrews has a remarkable journey of her own to relate, which echoes many of these themes; though the ‘star’ of her latest book is most assuredly her remarkable son. This, in fact, is a moot point, the sadness of which Ann wrestles with in the course of her writing. It would not be strictly accurate to describe Jason as (exclusively) Ann’s son, though from a terrestrial perspective this is the case. Ann is equally candid about the loss of a later (unborn) child- though, once again, ‘loss’ is hardly appropriate; these, the common dilemmas faced by the families of experiencers, are described with a decency and grace which probably only hints at the internal struggles she must have faced, but which is all the more affecting (and moving) for it. It is a book which every family in a similar position would do well to obtain, because it is for precisely these people that Ann has written it.

In Jason we are presented with a curious enigma. None of us enjoy realizing that we don’t know as much as we thought we did; it is particularly difficult to receive this news from a unsophisticated Kentish lad who- Ann informs us- is not above trying to better his mates at sinking pints of lager at speed and has a very ordinary fondness for Liverpool football club. This is the strange dichotomy of the ‘walk-in’, well known to John Mack, whose work sought to help such people integrate both their human and ‘alien’ identities. On the one hand Jason is an entirely ordinary- no offence intended- unspectacular young man. On another hand, spectacular barely covers it.

A crucial difference between Jason’s experiences and those of the case studies recorded by Mack and others, is that Jason appears to have undergone little or no hypnotic regression therapy. All of his knowledge has been arrived at consciously, with clear waking recall. This has enabled him to reach a level of spiritual maturation it is probably fair to say would ordinarily take lifetimes to achieve- as it doubtless has, even in his case. It also means, on the flip side, that he has been able to take little refuge in the hypnotic forgetting which allows most abductees to be cushioned from the terror of their experiences. Whatever he and his family have gone through, it has happened with stunning, undeniable frankness.

Many of the incidents recorded in the book strike the rational mind as quite impossible to accept. And yet, as one who has listened to Jason’s public addresses in the last twelve months, such is his quiet but obvious self-belief, in the end one has little choice but to accept his testimony at face value, however humbling this may prove to be. And yet, there potential for enormous growth in such a process; which in our own limited way, is equally as important and monumental an expansion as that which the likes of Ann and Jason have undergone. For, as John Mack also writes:

‘The abduction phenomenon by its demonstration that control is impossible, even absurd, and its capacity to reveal our wider identity in the universe invites us to discover the meaning of our ‘power’ in a deeper, spiritual sense.’

There is a strong line of argument which says that the reason the star people are amongst us now is to facilitate such an expansion in as many who would quietly listen to them. If that is the case, I am more than happy- in fact I am proud- to help this process by urging my readers to obtain and to feel the contents of this remarkable book.

Ben Fairhall

About Ben Fairhall

Rosslyn ~ Between Two Worlds Review by Ben Fairhall

51vZa3s3FqL._SL250_Rosslyn~ Between Two Worlds

by Brian Allan


Brian’s website:



Ben Fairhall is a writer, a researcher and a theologian.


It is another of the strange coincidences surrounding the death of Dean Warwick at last month’s PROBE conference (see Fear and Loathing in St. Annes) that on the night it happened, France should be playing Scotland at football. (The Scots won.) France and Scotland: the two countries perhaps most intimately connected with the Templar mythos, and its Merovingian cousin. Another cosmic hint perhaps? The following day Brian Allan gave a well-received presentation of the latest developments in his ongoing researches into the anomolies and mysteries of Rosslyn, the Scottish chapel that plays such an important part in the those mythologies. What he has discovered, whilst not entirely novel, will be of great interest to those growing numbers of people connecting with this ancient place of worship; and the sense of its importance in the years running up to 2012.

The main thrust of his research- that the cubed ornamentation of Rosslyn’s Lady Chapel contain ‘some sort of mysterious musical code’- is not new. One notable proponent of the idea, who Brian Allan is quick to credit, is the late Steven Prior; who purported to have been the head of parapsychology for Britain’s MI5. In developing this idea, Allan has made a thorough study of the wave patterns carved into the cubes, and has likened them- sensibly, in my opinion- to the acoustic waves first produced by Ernst Chladni in the eighteenth century. These were achieved using fine sand, metal plates and a strung bow drawn across the plate to create the desired frequency, which would be converted into visual form in the sand.

Such ideas are very timely: as the interest in the work of Dr Masuru Emoto with water crystals has shown (as featured in the movie What The Bleep Do We Know?) Crop circle researchers are developing similar theories to explain the glyphs that have been appearing in fields since the late 1980s. And in 1967, Hans Jenny published his book Cymatics: The Structure and Dynamics of Waves and Vibrations- featured in a recent issue of NEXUS magazine- which gave further evidence of this vital link between sound and physical matter. Using vibrating metal plates powered by crystal oscillators, he was able to demonstrate that the visual forms created by the sound of ancient Hebrew and Sanskrit vowels matched the written form of those letters; confirmation that these ancient languages are truly magical, with the ability to significantly affect the environment. Significantly, though not surprisingly for people researching the deterioration of humanity’s higher functions, this correspondence did not occur when he substituted modern English vowels.

Brian Allan observed a similarity between many of the patterns on the cubes and the wave formations discovered by Chladni. Through further research, and a series of coincidental meetings with helpful people, Allan was directed to the ‘Devil’s Chord’ as the most likely candidate for the musical interval encoded in this way. This is the augmented fourth, which was prohibited by the Church in the twelfth century (but which turned up in Jimi Hendrix’s Hey Joe and O Fortuna from Carmina Burana in more recent years.) Using a laptop and enlisting the assistance of an acoustic healer, Allan recreates the frequency in the Chapel. The effects are fairly dramatic: playing the two tones that comprise the augmented fourth produces another two separate notes, as though the effect was a design feature of the stonework. The same principal underlies the devices produced by the Munro Institute, for example, which apply two notes of slightly differing frequencies to the left and right ear. The brain responds to the stimulation by producing a third tone- the binaural- which, in terms of frequency, is the difference between the two. Interestingly, this technology has been widely used to trigger deep meditative states (in the Alpha and Delta frequency range) and out-of-body experiences; and Allan is quick to wonder whether the Chapel, under the right acoustic conditions, could have performed a similar function.

Of key importance to his investigation was the effect the tones would have on the dimensional doorway he and a team of psychics had already discovered. Here, of course, the sceptic- assuming he has made it this far- rapidly disembarks. It is a cold fact of life that, presented with photographs of any unidentified portal- whether those photos be taken in Rosslyn or the local Happy Eater- your average crystal ball gazer will probably declare it to be a stargate. In fairness to Mr Allan, however, the quality of mediumship displayed by his assistants is generally of a high order, particularly when Patrick McNamara is invited to offer a psychometric response to photographs taken in the Chapel. Without knowledge of either the place or its associated mythos, McNamara reels off a long series of symbolic (and specific) correspondences whose effect is rather creepy.

The dimensional doorway, whatever its exact purpose, appears to react to the pulsating frequencies- almost as if it is able to extract energy from them. What is rather conspicuous is that Allan’s rather cheerful disposition towards the (alleged) presence of this portal is not shared by the majority of his correspondents, whose e-mails upon the subject he reprints. In a brief history of some of the weirder aspects of Rosslyn’s history, he mentions the keen interest in it shown by Rudolf Hess. McNamara- in trance- reveals that the doorway can be opened to empower individuals with ‘the power of fury, allowing terrible spirits of great force who would add courage or great viciousness to an individual… this gives you power of arms that you would never have learnt before and making you become a fighting machine of great power and horror.’ According to Allan, the ‘key’ to opening the doorway may be the ‘Devil’s Chord’ or another series of intervals, or possibly a physical artefact secreted deep beneath the Crypt. (That this area is served by an intricate series of tunnels, connecting with other important buildings, is reasonably well-supported.) Whether the portal is meant to be opened, however- or whether it already has been- is ambiguous.

Combining several of the layers of the Rosslyn mythos into a satisfying whole, Allan concludes that the treasure lurking behind the Doorway, once activated by the requisite ‘key’, is none other than the Baphomet of the Templars. This mysterious head has arcane associations with the Apprentice Pillar- which sonic scans have revealed to contain an unknown object- the head of John the Baptist, and the Holy Grail itself. (In the proto-Grail romances of medieval Wales, the Mabinogion, the head of Bran the Blessed performs many of the functions later associated with the Grail.) In arriving at this satisfying conclusion, he draws upon the definition of Eliphas Levi (whose image of Baphomet has attained iconic status) who derived the name from reversing the Latin abbreviations ‘Temp Ohp Ab’ to reveal (translated) ‘The father of universal peace among men.’ Another source of the name may be from the Arabic ‘Abu-fihamat’, meaning ‘father of understanding.’ Both contain the idea of knowledge, or gnosis; and it is knowledge (the real Baphomet) which Allan believes to be concealed in the Rosslyn doorway.

In another neat piece of occult conflation, Allan equates this knowledge- the Baphomet- with H P Blavatsky’s notion of the Akashic records; and can extend further, to what scientists have termed our ‘junk DNA.’ As I revealed in an earlier post, the ‘junk DNA’ contains what transpersonal analysts call the ‘collective unconscious’ which- when activated to a higher degree- results in the visitations and witness reports associated with UFO and paranormal phenomena; and in the mystical states of consciousness associated with enlightenment and the (snake-like) kundalini. The secret of Rosslyn’s dimensional doorway, then, is spiritual knowledge which- when correctly applied- will result in the activation of all the dormant faculties of man, resulting in a brilliant influx of memory and capacity. All that is presently hidden within the subconscious- personal and collective- will truly rise again: to consciousness, from the darkness of the grave into the light of day. (The rituals of the Blue Degrees of Freemasonry are, in part, ritual enactments of this principle.) The Apprentice Pillar, then- though though generally believed to refer to the Sinclair ‘Prince’ who designed the Chapel- is the Tree of Life, the mechanism whereby this science can be accomplished; and the serpent DNA, whose activation awaits the correct recognition of the Divine Keys.

The idea of a cube containing the key to an interdimensional portal does, of course, bring to mind the British horror film Hellraiser. The cube, in this instance, is an antique puzzle box which- when the puzzle is correctly solved- acts as a gateway to and from an alternate dimension peopled by the Cenobites. This ‘Game Cube’ is known as the Lament Configuration, which would certainly hint at a connection with musical frequency- though this theme is not developed in the movie or its sequels (to the best of my knowledge.) Of great interest, however, is the fact that the Lament Configuration clearly depicts a Chladni figure on one of its sides; and bears a close resemblance to a typical Rosslyn cube. Just to throw in a little extra weirdness, both the original Hellraiser and Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth were released on September 11th (1987 and 1992 respectively.) And the fourth movie in the series is subtitled Bloodline.

The behaviour of the Cenobites in the Hellraiser series closely resembles that which is ascribed to the reptilians in the Emerald Tablets of Thoth, as translated by Maurice Doreal. They exist largely in a parallel dimension to our own, but under the correct circumstances they are able to shift into our reality in order to fuel up on the human blood that they appear to require for energy. Might this be an example of a writer, Clive Barker, through his heightened powers of imagination, activating a greater portion of the dormant ‘junk DNA’ and thus, in vision, accessing true occult knowledge from the Akashic records?

The reptilians, at any rate, do merit a brief mention by Brian Allan, in connection with the legendary line of Frankish kings known as the Merovingians. It will be recalled that the mother of their founder Merovee (or Meroveus) was believed to have been raped by the Quinotaur: a mythical sea-bull. Readers of my article, The Horsham Key will know that a similar creature can be found on Horsham’s Old Town Hall; though, in that instance, in a double-tailed form which recalls the melusine. To Melusine, in her non-fictional incarnation as Melisande, the mother of Fulk V, Count of Anjou and daughter of Baldwin II, is attributed uniting the Merovingian house with the line of Anjou; and thus to the Plantagenets who would produce several English monarchs. Both stories share an identical theme: of legendary sea-creatures giving rise to powerful bloodlines.

Such ideas have obvious similarities with the reptilian conspiracy thesis propagated by David Icke, Matthew Delooze and others; the major difference being that neither the Quinotaur or Melusine are described as extra-terrestrial. Allan suggests that the story (of Merovee’s legendary parentage) might point towards the existence of ‘an entirely new evolutionary stream of reptile/humans crossbreeds’; who, presumably- through the Merovingian line of descent- have a vital interest in Rosslyn. He fails to develop this theme much further, however; and thereby misses an extraordinary clue provided by the medium Patrick McNamara. Along with the other associations he produces via clairvoyance, is the name ‘Rose Egremont (or Egromont.’) Allan recognises that this may contain an important key to the mystery, and wonders about a possible connection to the famed ‘Rose Line’, the north-south meridian that connects Rosslyn with Glastonbury. A alternative explanation, however, may be found in the name of the mother of the princess raped by the Quinotaur: viz. Rosamund. It is from Rosamund- the grandmother of Meroveus- that De Rougement derives, the matriarch of the Hapsburgs: who, as stated, share a joint mythology that connects to the Merovingians. ‘Egremont’ and ‘De Rougement’ are sufficiently close to suggest that it is in this complicated web of family alliances that the solution to this clairvoyant enigma may reside.

We should also note that a yet earlier rendition of the Quinotaur/Melusine legend is the ancient Phoenician tale of Europa and the bull. Here again, a sea-bull ravages a maiden of high birth: Europa being the daughter of Canaan, the son of Poseidon. The Canaanite tribes included the Kenites, who descended from Cain: the son of Adam or- in certain rabbinical lore- Samael, following Eve’s act of union with the snake in the garden of Eden. Thus, in a convoluted manner, another association can be drawn between a serpentine, reptilian/amphibious beast and a bloodline of vital importance to the Grail mythos. (The Merovingian kings- and their descendants- are closely associated with the mythology of Cain.)

Might there be an implied kinship between the Cenobites and the Canaanite-Kenites, despite the dissimilarity in pronounciation, and the more obvious monastic association? Interestingly, in Hellbound: Hellraiser II (1988) the Cenobites worship a giant, rotating obelisk they call ‘Leviathan.’ This, Allan says, was one of the names given to the Baphomet figure used by Anton LaVey’s Church of Satan, and relates to one of the Lords of Hell. He fails to mention that Leviathan, like the Quinotaur and the fairy Melusine, is an aquatic beast; and that its usage by LaVey (and, by extension, Clive Barker in the Hellraiser films) may also relate to its potency as a well known symbol of the New World Order that the Church of Satan- in common with many ‘black’ occult groups- are working to inaugurate. This has been the case since the publication of the book of the same name by the influential political scientist Thomas Hobbes in 1651, in which he delineates his philosophy of absolute monarchism. The famous frontispiece is a symbolic illustration of this theme:

We should also note that the goddess (or princess) Europa is the source of the name of continental Europe; and that the image of Europa and the bull- which corresponds esoterically to the Quinotaur and his quarry- is widely used on EU documents, and Euro coinage. Once we understand that the same symbol can be applied to the Merovingians, and- through Melusine- to the Angevin line and the House of Lorraine (Hapsburgs)- the conspiracy thickens to monumental proportions. All of these groups have been associated with agitating for a fully centralised, federal Europe; which should give you some sort of indication what the medium-term agenda of the European Parliament is.

A final thought with regard to the cubes. In the Revelation of St. John we read prophecies related to the descent of the New Jerusalem: a symbol of spiritual regeneration. According to biblical exegetes, the shape of the perfected city seen in vision is a cube. (Others say a pyramid; one thinks of the ‘Perfected Ashlar’ of Freemasonry.) This would have had tremendous significance for William Sinclair, the architect of Rosslyn, because the Chapel indubitably is a scale model of Solomon’s Temple- not an incomplete retroquire as conventional scholarship has it- and the ‘ruined’ Western wall is a reconstruction of the surviving remains of the Herodian temple complex in Jerusalem. The cube, moreover, is the specific geometry of the Temple’s Holy of Holies- a feature which has been incorporated into the design of St Paul’s Cathederal, for example; whose original design was clearly inspired by the octagonal Dome of the Mount. In sacred geometry, the New Jerusalem can be associated with Metatron’s Cube. (See the works of Joseph E. Mason.)

Sceptics will complain that a large part of Allan’s investigation is predicated on speculation and spiritualism; and that the original material- in the first part of the book- is slow in coming. It should also be noted that the ‘Devil’s Chord’, as Allan concedes, is not necessarily the interval or frequency contained in the carvings but merely a likely candidate. Nonetheless, for students of this fascinating enigma, Allan’s commendable work may provoke a few new lines of enquiry. I hope I may have done the same in this review.

For more information on Brian Allan’s books, and how to order them, please visit:

For the full review, including pictures, please visit
Ben Fairhall

About Ben Fairhall

In These Signs Conquer Review by Ben Fairhall

Ben Fairhall is a writer, a researcher and a theologian.


Ellis Taylor: Renaissance Man

51rZ721MBsL._SL250_The quest for ‘intelligent conspiracy’ can be a long and, at times, frustrating one. It is usually the Builders to whom are attributed such mighty gifts; which is one reason why (in typically perverse fashion) I often find myself reluctantly roaring them on. The Milton effect. Your typical theorist, on the other hand, with his hastily knocked off atonal screeds, more often embodies the opposite extreme. There is a conspicuous deficit of stylists in conspiracyville, or so it seems to me; and until the shortfall is rectified the tin-foil stereotype will continue to be deserved.

Fortunately, in Ellis Taylor, we have a writer for whom words have retained their wonder. Words have always been more than a medium for a message; in the right hands- as Ellis well knows- they cast a powerful spell. His spelling may be suspect, but his powers as a magician are greatly in evidence in his latest book, In These Signs Conquer. There are very few writers who would dare (or wish) to use a word like ‘flibbertigibbet’ or coin neologisms as evocative as gloomered. But language, and the multitude of ways it is wielded to control us, is a major and recurring theme. In renewing our acquaintance with the apparently familiar, discovering new dimensions with which to communicate our unique experiences, we are handed an extremely efficacious tool of resistance. This is why a significant part of the book is given over to deconstructing word-forms into component syllables (sybils) and arriving at (occasionally questionable) etymologies. We are being invited to reclaim our divine language; and with it, our divine power.

Sadly, these lofty aspirations do not preclude infrequent bouts of punning upon which Richard Whiteley- were he alive- would be hard pressed to improve. Whether this is a compliment or not I will leave the reader to judge. ‘Moloch King Tyre’- with its McCartney inspired cadence – may be esoterically appropriate; but ‘Mousetique’ (for Mustique) is criminal.

Words, of course, are not the only signs we have been conquered by. Numbers, too, have been divorced from their magical culture and have instead become agents in the exclusive service of l’argent. Hence the book’s many numerological riffs; one in particular of exceptional quality, an analysis of the occult and numerological significance of 9/11 or 911. The political chicanery behind this ritualistic event has been systematically exposed since that terrible day; and adopted as a liturgy by an entire community of ‘9/11 Truthers.’ But a growing body of researchers are now attempting to penetrate into what is surely the most vital aspect of all: its symbolic resonance, and this part of the book will be greatly drawn upon (and possibly plagiarised) in years to come. (For examples of this trend, see Phil Gardiner’s website and the essay 9/11 and the Occult, contributed by Asif Husain; and the excellent ‘synchro-mysticism’ of Jake Kotze.) What will possibly irritate some is that Ellis apportions no blame for this bloody event to any human agency, whether American or Afghan. It is, instead, merely another manifestation- a particularly visceral and catalytic one- of an ongoing agenda of domination by a force he terms the Darkness Invisible.

This notion has certain surface parallels with the inter-dimensional conspiracy theories popularised by David Icke (and latterly, Matthew Delooze.) Unlike those writers, however, he does not insist that this force assume a single, given form. Although the famed reptiles make a brief appearance, it is clear that the Darkness can, and does, ‘manifest to minds in any shape it desires depending on what reaction it seeks to evoke.’ Moreover, rather worryingly perhaps, its principal vehicle is via human possession; and this needn’t be the exclusive preserve of the despised ‘Illuminati’ either. Indeed, according to Taylor, we have all, at some time or another, been its witting or unwitting servants. Whilst the degree rituals of Freemasonry may put people within the Darkness’s corrosive grasp, equally at risk are those debunkers and demonisers for whom anything Masonic is the great Satan.

If this sounds a little hard-going, which in parts it is, behind the punning exterior and the conversational tone there is a complete occult philosophy being communicated: which revolves around the great, endless battle of Light and Dark. Whilst the Darkness, in astrological terms, is represented as Saturn and the host of Moloch and Jehovah-related deities who have been similarly conflated, the opposing principle- the Goddess- is prefigured as Venus. The struggle between these energies has been recorded in myth, legend, story and art: several such examples are summarily decoded. This reaches its apogee with a brilliant analysis of Leonardo’s The Last Supper which, if true, manages in a few pages to supersede the fruits of five hundred years of scholarship. Owing a certain amount to Lewis Da Costa’s The Secret Diaries of an Alchemist, the new revelations will be greeted with disappointment by Dan Brown devotees. The painting’s anamolies are subjected not to a literalist revisionism, which depends upon genealogical survival for their validity, but are interpreted spritually: as astro-theological signs and wonders. According to this analysis, the painting contains an accurate scientific record of the heavens and human origins, and a portent of the great destiny of mankind at the end of the age of Pisces.

Such erudition leaves Taylor in danger of attracting the attention of the academy; an outcome which no self-respecting conspiraloon would envy. The same goes for his discovery of a hidden gnostic thread in the fifteenth century painting of Mary Magdalene by Francesco di Franchesci. A twinned, mirrored version of this image forms the book’s front cover (see the image above)- which reveals an artfully concealed demon and other grotesques. Sadly, the detail of the image has failed to fully translate to the printed form; perhaps the author will rectify this by linking to a large-scale reproduction from his excellent website? It is a stunning find which has already piqued the interest of the Ashmolean Museum where the original is presently exhibited. It adds to the sum of our knowledge of late Medieval art and provides support to the idea, so popular in ‘pseudo-historical’ circles, of artists concealing heresies. To the ranks of Poussin, Teniers, Leonardo and Costeau we can add another name.

It is the Venus material, however, which I suspect will be of greatest interest to his readers. It incorporates descriptions of many of the most famous sacred sites in Britain, and in particular those within easy reach of his home county of Oxfordshire. Hence, in one particularly breezy section, we are transported to the magnificent White Horse of Uffington, a Venus archetype of especial beauty, then onwards to Glastonbury Tor and Silbury. It is here that we find Ellis at his most comfortable, amongst the ‘Marian fields’ of his Blessed Isles and the pixie barrows of his Pictish (and ‘pikey’) forebears.

Michael Tsarion has described the book as ‘an easy reading manual for the True Age’ and my advice is to treat it as such. There is much to be gained from visiting as many of the locations that Ellis describes, in particular the city of Oxford which forms the spiritual backdrop to it all. This outbreak of regionalism, however- whilst understandable- might prove less attractive for non-domestic readers, who may be unfamilar with many of the cited places. If possible, however, I would urge readers to take the trouble to engage with the material in as active a fashion as possible. So much more does the spirit of the Goddess reside in these places than in even the most inspired prose, and there is where we may begin to attune ourselves to Her song.

Ben Fairhall

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