Remember in the Sopranos when Tony killed Ralphie and then enlisted Christopher's aid in dismembering and burying the body?
Imagine the kind of people who would come from a culture like this. They're not in Mexico any more. They're here.
The press is now referring to Aztec priests as insurgents.
This must be more work of those conquistadores.
GGG ping
Just another peaceful, nature-loving pagan religion.
Muslims at the pyramid of the moon. Who knew ?
sweet little savages and their far advanced beyond ours civilization woulda never hurt a fly...i bet some European was behind this.
I climbed the temple at Xunantunich in Belize just a week ago, it cleared up a lot about the human sacrifice aspect of the Mayan religion.
It was nearly 100 degrees and humid when we arrived at the top, and when that guide said "OK, everybody down" I told him just to kill me and leave me there.
Please FREEPMAIL me if you want on, off, or alter the "Gods, Graves, Glyphs" PING list --
Archaeology/Anthropology/Ancient Cultures/Artifacts/Antiquities, etc.
The GGG Digest -- Gods, Graves, Glyphs (alpha order)
Lost Languages:
The Enigma Of The World's Undeciphered Scripts
by Andrew Robinson
Multiculturalism is so nice.
a necklace made of imitation human jaws.
----imitation???
Our Lady put an end to this pagan barbarity:
Our Lady of Guadalupe
by Brother Michael, M.I.C.M."Listen and let it penetrate your heart . . . do not be troubled or weighed down with grief. Do not fear any illness or vexation, anxiety or pain. Am I not here who am your Mother? Are you not under my shadow and protection? Am I not your fountain of life? Are you not in the folds of my mantle? In the crossing of my arms? Is there anything else you need?" (Our Lady's words to her servant Juan Diego)
The First Apparition
Juan Diego awoke before sunrise. It was Saturday, Our Lady's day, the ninth of December, the first day in the Octave of the Immaculate Conception, 1531, and quite cold in the mountains of Mexico at that time of year. Wrapping his cloak or tilma about him Juan set out alone from his new home in Tolpetlac to the neighboring village of Tlatelolco, a suburb of Tenochtitlan, six miles south. He was on his way to Mass, which he had faithfully attended every Saturday and Sunday since his conversion six years before. It was a long journey for anyone to make two days in a row; that's twenty-four miles of walking, and his aging limbs were beginning to feel the toll. The trip seemed so much longer since his wife and traveling companion, Maria Lucia, had died two years ago. Now he walked the road alone. But being alone had its advantages; it gave him time to think about and talk to God. The good friars had taught him well how to do that.
It was still dusky, not too far from dawn, as he approached Tepeyac hill. Here not so long ago stood the gory temple of the Aztecs' mother goddess. It was just a memory now as were all their false deities. But Juan's thoughts were elsewhere as he shuffled along on his way to Mass; the kind Fathers expected him to know his catechism lesson and these eternal truths preoccupied his mind.
Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by music, very wonderful music, descending from atop the slope of the hill. It sounded to him like a mellifluous chirping of sweetly singing birds. It was a melody such as he had never heard. The tones began to grow more enchanting, filling the air around him and so enrapturing his soul that he began to doubt whether it was possible for a man in this fragile life to relish such exquisite harmony and remain in the flesh. "Is it I," he wondered, "who have this good fortune to hear what I hear? Or am I perhaps only dreaming? Where am I? . . . Is this perchance the earthly Paradise hidden from the eyes of men - . ? The ravished Indian squinted his eyes to scan the hilltop, when to his utter astonishment, a cloud glowing with dazzling whiteness appeared just above the crest, while a magnificent rainbow formed by its resplendent rays emblazoned everything around it. Then, abruptly, the celestial singing ceased. A voice was heard from within the cloud. It was the voice of a young woman, a tender voice, calling his name most affectionately, "Juanito, Juan Dieguito."
Our Lady spoke to her humble protégé in his own Nahuatl tongue. In that language the form of address used by the woman had a significance more singularly intimate than any expression English or Spanish could convey. The exact sound that met the Indian's ears was "Juantzin, Juan Diegotzin.'' It was an endearing expression, reverently diminutive, that a fond mother would use for her child. English would render it: "Dear little Juan." That same voice beckons each of us with an identical tone of affection. If only more men would open their hearts to hear the call, what joy it would bring into their lives!
Totally perplexed, the fifty seven year old Juanito clambered up the rocky incline to see who it was who so sweetly addressed him. Strangely though, there was no fear in him; he was supremely confident, and intoxicated with exuberance.
As he reached the summit, the voice gently bade him draw near. Doing so, he found himself face to face with a woman of incomparable loveliness, whom he described simply as "a most beautiful lady." Her garments shone so brilliantly that the entire mountain was transformed by the reflection of her glory. The rocks became as precious gold; the earth sparkled like emeralds and multi-colored jewels; even the shrubs and prickly pears were splattered with a sheet of color, as if their thorns had been changed into stained glass.
She was young, perhaps fourteen, her expression most affable and encouraging. She motioned Juan to come closer. Advancing a step or two he sank to his knees, overwhelmed by the loveliness of the vision.
The Lady spoke, " My son, Juan Diego, whom I tenderly love as a little one and weak, where are you going?"
And he replied, "My holy one, my Lady, my Mistress, I am on my way to your house at Tlatelolco; I go in pursuit of the holy things which our priests teach us." His holy one, the noble Lady, then revealed her will saying:
"Know my son, my much beloved, that I am the ever Virgin Mary, Mother of the True God who is the Author of life, the Creator of all things, the Lord of heaven and earth, present everywhere. And it is my wish that here, there be raised to me a temple in which, as a loving mother to thee and those like thee, I shall show my tender clemency and the compassion I feel for the natives and for those who love and seek me, for all who implore my protection, who call on me in their labors and afflictions: and in which I shall hear their weeping and their supplications that I may give them consolation and relief. That my will may have its effect, thou must go to the city of Mexico and to the palace of the bishop who resides there, to tell him that I have sent thee and that I wish a temple to be raised to me in this place. Thou shalt report what thou hast seen and heard, and be assured that I will repay what thou dost for me in the charge I give thee: for I will make thee great and renowned. Now thou hast heard, son, my wish. Go in peace. . . employ all of the strength thou art able."
Juan bowed low in humble obeisance and said, "I go, I go, my most noble Lady and Mistress, to do as a humble servant what you have ordered. Farewell."
After Juan had spoken to Our Lady, he straight-away set out on his mission, as a most obedient son, and took the road leading directly to Mexico. Juan never paused to weigh the pros and cons of his own insufficiency; he just did what he was commanded, and he acted promptly; any obstacles he would face when and where they came.
This past December 12 [1981] marked the four hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the apparitions of Our Lady of Guadalupe to the humble Aztec Indian Juan Diego on Tepeyac hill near Mexico City.
Her message was beautiful and simple. She told him that she wanted a church to be built in her honor on this hill, wherein she would receive and compassionately console all her suffering children. For this purpose she sent Juan Diego to the Bishop of Mexico, the Friar Minor, Don Juan de Zumarraga, to present to him her request. Though he was most faithful in his mission, the lowly messenger was not believed. Finally, Our Lady gave him a sign to take to the Bishop, a bouquet of flowers that she had caused to spring miraculously from the hilltop's frozen winter soil. And, to leave absolutely no doubt that it was indeed she, the Mother of God, who requested this church, she left imprinted on the face of the Indian's cloak, in which as an apron he had carried the miraculous sign into the prelate's presence, a full length color portrait of herself, just as the Indian had seen her. The tilma and its image can be seen to this very day in the cathedral of Mexico City.
Every year up to twenty million pilgrims come to Mexico's capital from all over the world to see and pray to Our Lady before her miraculous picture. Her shrine attracts every type of visitor imaginable, from chest-beating penitents to cold sophisticated worldlings; from irreverent gum smackers in tight jeans to the simple ordinary worshiper. They all come, representing a vast cross-section of humanity, all the time, in a never-ending stream. Some approach for hundreds of yards on their knees with arms outstretched in a posture of penance. Others, who have not such a visible conviction, at least come in prayer, perhaps reciting the Rosary, to prepare for their climactic encounter. Too many, sad to say, approach as mere tourists with no faith and no love, like orphans who do not want a mother. But here Our Lady has made herself available to all, the just and the unjust, to be loved or just viewed. And isn't it beautiful that she is always there, faithful to her promise to her "dear little one," Juan Diego, even after four and a half centuries.
Guadalupe is the most frequented Marian shrine in the whole world. The Blessed Virgin receives here three times more pilgrims than she does even at Lourdes. Is it because of the cures? No.... There are cures, but that isn't why so many are drawn here. There's another reason, a more wonderful one, that gives Guadalupe such a compelling magnetism. It is the sense of Our Lady's presence.
There is a very real communication of hearts at Guadalupe. It is the heart of a sinless Mother seeking out the love of her children and offering her maternal protection. She, the Mother of God, wants to be known and loved by men so that she can lead them to her Son. She wants to be known for what she truly is. Now Mary knows her children only too well ... but her children do not and cannot know her well enough, for there is so much to know about her that the pursuit would exhaust a whole lifetime of effort. But we must try. "They that explain me shall have life," the Scriptures say of Mary in the Book of Wisdom. So, in the vehemence of her tender love, those four centuries ago, she left for the world a portrait of herself painted with brushes "not of this earth." In this marvelous picture-it cannot be called a painting, for there were no paints involved-one can see for himself what the most beautiful creature God ever created looks like.
Then there is the canvas the Queen of Heaven chose for her portrait, the tilma of Juan Diego, a rough burlap-type cloak that the lower-class Indians wore draped over their shoulders, and ankle-length. Having been poor in her mortal life, the Mother of God did not disdain such a canvas, for by it she would confound the laws of science.
Every artist who has examined the tilma has affirmed that there simply is no way short of a miracle for such an exquisite picture to have been painted on such a coarse and porous surface. Furthermore, the tilma itself, made from cactus fibers, should have fallen apart, naturally speaking, twenty or thirty years at most after it was made. Nevertheless, long defying the laws of decomposition, it hangs together to this very day. Needless to say, if the canvas has been miraculously preserved, so has the image. The colors are still as fresh and vivid as when they first appeared, despite the natural corroding effect of black smoke, which for a century arose before it from hundreds of burning vigil lights (it wasn't until 1647 that the precious relic was put under glass), and despite the accidental spilling of a bottle of nitric acid across its surface by a workman in 1791...
Background
The natives of Mexico are known in history as the Aztecs. They were a warlike people who migrated sometime around the fourteenth century from the north into the warmer climate zone. Before that time, they have no history, except what one can learn from their mythical legends. Having subjugated the surrounding tribes with the military superiority of a centrally organized army, they settled down in and around a lake region they called Tenochtitlan, out of which Mexico City arose.
When the Spaniards arrived in 1519 the Aztec Empire was outwardly impressive, but inwardly faltering under the cruel tyranny of Montezuma II, a superstitious, ill-fated man, whom the people believed to be a descendant of the gods. His subjects carried their error to such an extreme that their heavenly sovereign's august feet were not allowed to be contaminated by the earth, so they carried the king wherever he went.
Far worse than this perverse concept of regality was the unspeakable cruelty, inspired by Satan, which prompted them to appease their stone divinities with human blood. Hundreds, sometimes thousands of victims, usually slaves or prisoners of war, were dragged daily up the temple stairs to the altar of sacrifice, where they had their hearts torn out by hooded priests, and offered to some god or goddess. Francis Johnston in his book, _The Wonder of Guadalupe_, offers insight into their perverted motivation:
...The mightiest of all their horrid gods was Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered or Stone Serpent. No other symbol more befits the qualities of the devil than this deadly reptile. This is the form Satan took in the Garden of Paradise, when he first infected our race. So too, he will be in the same form (as God tells us in Genesis 3:15) when the woman shall crush his head. Thus, the arch-enemy of mankind, who had held these poor souls in such blind captivity for so many centuries, inspired his subjects to render him the highest adoration in the guise that so well befitted him....Juan Diego meets the Bishop
"What kind of a sign?" Juan asked, totally unruffled by the request, "Name any sign at all and I will ask it of the Lady."
The Bishop paused for a moment and said, "Let the Lady herself decide it."...
...The First Miracle
...The Indians, especially, were swept away with an elation that knew no bounds. As they danced and sang, in their thousands, waving green sprays to and fro, their voices thundered all around the hills with audacious but holy pride as they chanted, "The Virgin is one of us. Our pure Mother, Our Sovereign Lady, is one of us!" What an answer to the inhumanity of slavery! How could one any longer enslave the son of a Queen before whom every king must bow?
In a transport of enthusiasm, one group of young warriors took their bows and celebrated by sending a pretty volley of arrows flying through the air. Unfortunately, they were not too careful where they aimed and one of the shafts struck a spectator, piercing his neck, and killing him instantly. The poor native was picked up by his sorrowing friends and carried into the chapel, where they placed him at the feet of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Here in the presence of her who had promised to be their consolation, they pathetically pleaded that she not allow such a solemnity to be marred by such a tragedy. Everyone together prayed for a miracle. "Please," the Christian Indians prayed, "let our brothers who are still in the darkness of idolatry see the power of the holy Virgin of Tepeyac."
All of a sudden the dead man opened his eyes and rose up on his feet, fully recovered. Spaniards and Indians jumped for joy, spontaneously embracing one another with true brotherly affection. With the cure of this physical wound, the Mother of God, who is the Health of the Sick, began healing the wound of animosity that until then had kept these two races so bitterly divided. The Faith of the conquerors had united with the Fatherland of the conquered. The labor had indeed been most painful, but Mexico was born...
They must have learned this ritual from all of the alien spaceships that used to land in the area.
What a stuning discovery!
and now for something...completely different...
Well at least they didn't find any that had underwear on their heads, now that would have really been bad.
In other news, the Teotihuacan pyramid has been determined to be built on the site of an ancient Indian topless bar.
Second, just 12 bodies? The Moche (of what is now Peru) were around at about the same time (100AD to 700AD or so) and make this look like a family picnic. They thought all those quite detailed scenes of sacrifice on their pottery were mythological until they found the graves of the people depicted on the pottery and some of the victims. Guess what happens when a culture has a god known to archaeologists as "The Decapitator" (picture a giant spider holding knives and heads). This article gives a pretty good summary of what they were up to.
Third, there is a bias in archaeology toward assuming that any culture is peaceful to the point of pacifism until proven otherwise. People like Lawrence Keeley and Steven LeBlanc have been working to debunk the myth of the peaceful savage. I highly recommend Keeley's book War Before Civilization on the subject. Simply put, there is plenty of evidence of ancient homicides out there, both murderous and as the rusult of warfare, that's frequently ignored by leftist academics who prefer their peaceful savage mythology.
