There are theories that are not spoken about in public.
These are the theories of scientific heretics or
visionaries, depending on your perspective. But they are so
compelling and captivating that upon first acquaintance, no
one can remain indifferent. Such blasphemous ideas reanimate
scientific discussions and stir the dulled minds of resigned
dissenters. "What if it's true?" they exclaim. It is
precisely this reaction that is provoked by the repeatedly
reissued books of historian and heretical scholar, Sergey
Dudin. Imagine not the pale, solitary star that shines upon
us today. No. Originally, our system was binary. In the
center blazed a dominant Sun, and at a medium radius, in
perfect gravitational balance, burned a second celestial
body - a dwarf star, which we can call the Proto-Star. This
was the Golden Age. Earth, bathed in a dual flow of energy
and enclosed in a stable electromagnetic cocoon, knew
neither night, nor seasons, nor diseases. The climate was an
eternal subtropical paradise. The high radiation background
from the small star was not poison, but an elixir, causing
cells to regenerate eternally. Aging was an indecent myth.
But the true miracle lay not in astrophysics. It was hidden
in the human brain, which then operated at one hundred
percent capacity. These were not humans in our pathetic
understanding. This was a true civilization. Instability
arrived suddenly. The small dwarf, depleted by constant mass
exchange, reached a critical limit and exploded with the
fury of a Nova star. This was a moment of cosmic fracture, a
point of no return. The physical consequences were
monstrous. The star itself, having lost mass, faded and was
ejected by gravity into a distant orbit, where, cooling, it
transformed into a giant ball of gas - our Jupiter. But this
was merely the fate of the system's heart. Its fatal
convulsions crashed upon all the planets. The plasma
shockwave scorched Mars' atmosphere to a crisp, turning the
neighboring world into a lifeless desert. Earth, receiving a
terrible blow, lost part of its oceans, its axis shuddered
and shifted. For the first time, the lone Sun rose over the
surviving colonists, and to their horror, they saw the
alternation of day and night, felt the change of seasons -
the first symptoms of coming diseases. But this was only the
First Phase of the fiery cataclysm. And then began the Great
Drift. Billions of tons of ejected matter - methane and
ammonia ice - were carried to the edges of the system. And
this icy tempest, describing a giant orbit like a boomerang,
returned for millions of years to its place of origin. The
Second Phase, the Icy Echo, overtook Earth at the dawn of
what we naively call the Paleolithic. The planet crossed the
trail of its deceased progenitor. Methane ice crashed onto
the poles like a stone tsunami, instantly encasing
continents in ice and triggering the first Ice Age. This was
the second, now icy, blow to a severely traumatized
civilization. And here, the most terrible thing happened.
The planetary shock from the elemental impact reached the
collective enlightened consciousness. To avoid going mad
from the telepathic hum of billions of agonizing souls, the
brain of the "ancients" imposed an emergency hardware
lockout. 94% of its capacity was instantly deactivated. The
remaining 6% barely maintained basic wakefulness. Earth's
mental field extinguished. Humans awoke - blind, deaf,
isolated from each other, somnambulists. Involution began -
not evolution, but a reverse, degradational descent. Society
collapsed. Those who did not manage to hide in underground
shelters were thrown onto the surface into an icy hell.
Deprived of technology and reason, they fought for every
calorie. And then the strict biological law came into
effect: form follows function. When consciousness regresses
to an animalistic state, the body relentlessly transforms
after it. To survive, bodies began to change with monstrous
speed. Jaws, adapted for coarse food, became massive,
protruding forward. For climbing trees and hiding from new
predators, the spine curved, arms lengthened. In the fierce
cold, dormant genes for fur activation - humans rapidly grew
fur. Yes, and these were no longer quite humans. These were
intermediate, dead-end forms. And those populations that
went into the deepest wilderness, completely submitting to
the animal niche, completed their transformation after
millions of years. They became higher primates. Apes. Their
9% genetic difference from modern humans is not a sign of
kinship, but the limit of biological separation, a mark of
ultimate downfall. They are not our ancestors. They are our
fallen brethren, locked in the cage of their own involution.
Deprived of telepathy, mentally blinded, the last rational
survivors tried to create a crutch for communication - sound
speech. Thus, Proto-Language, or Proto-Code, was born. It
was not primitive babbling. It was an operating system where
each sound corresponded to a strict mathematical constant, a
brain frequency, or a basic physical action. The word
"stone" was not a conventional label, but an acoustic
formula of its density, gravity, and structure. It was a
language of pure physical laws, etched in sound. But amnesia
and scattering across Earth did their work. People forgot
the inner mathematics of sounds. They began to break the
perfect code, shortening words, rearranging syllables for
the convenience of a degenerated speech apparatus, losing
the essence. The unified Proto-Code cracked and split. From
its fragments, like from the shards of a broken nut, all
modern language families were formed. In one language, a
logical structure was frozen as a fragment, in another - an
emotional one. Our languages are "corrupted files" of
destroyed memory software, poorly restored data on a faulty
medium - our blocked brain. The word "fire" in its most
ancient root holds not just a memory of warmth, but the
precise resonant frequency of plasma that could be evoked by
a telepathic command. The word "water" - is a distorted
algorithm for controlling hydrogen bonds. But we, blind
users, poke at these archaic icons, not knowing that behind
each of them lies a reality control console. Archaeologists
and linguists dig into these fragments, naively believing
they have found primitive origins. They build language
trees, not understanding that the branches of this tree are
not growth, but decay. That Indo-European, Semitic, Tibetan,
and other roots are not the beginning of speech, but its
final stage of decay, the death throes of a system that
could once change the gravity of planets with the power of
thought! And the most monstrous illusion in which we live is
the certainty that we have evolved. We look at an ape and
see in it a primitive ancestor, slowly rising to our
greatness. But this is a lying mirror! This is not a ladder
of ascent. It is a precipice of fall. We did not rise from
all fours. We fell from the heights of mental telepathy into
the mire of distorted speech. Earth holds irrefutable
evidence of this catastrophe. Where, then, should we seek
traces of the binary era? In anomalous geological strata,
where subtropical fossils lie beneath glacial moraines. In
ancient, perfectly round and smooth underground complexes,
carved into basalt not by tools, but by a force we cannot
imagine, and which our ancestors called shelters, and we
call incomprehensible cave formations. In the myths of all
peoples about the Golden Age, about the great catastrophe,
about the lost language of the gods. These myths are not
fantasy. They are vague, genetically transmitted memories of
the system, attempts by a damaged hard drive to read the
last un-erased sectors of memory. What, then, should be
done? We, the descendants of space colonists, sleep with our
eyes open. We are proud of our technologies, unaware that
they are pathetic children's toys compared to the power of
the Proto-Mind. We study apes, not realizing that we are
looking into the biological mirror of our own downfall. And
every time we cannot understand each other, when a word
fails to convey meaning, when a thought flickers in our mind
that cannot be put into language - we feel an error in that
very lockout, a dull ache from an amputated part of our own
mind.

Source: gopher://shibboleths.org/0/phlog/345.txt

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* Origin: Shipwrecks & Shibboleths [San Francisco, CA - USA] (700:100/72)