In 1998
and 1999, the “end of the world” was on everybody’s mind…I sorely wish I had saved
Charles Grant’s Millennium Quartet for Halloween, because those four
books would have been perfect. As a result, the 16th Century
prophet Nostradamus briefly overtook the mighty Pikachu in terms of media
saturation, because you could find Nostradamus magazines on your local
supermarket’s tabloid rack, Nostradamus documentaries on cable, and scholarly works
on Nostradamus’ prophecies on the shelves of bookstores such as Barnes &
Noble and Borders.
Why was
everybody so interested in some old geezer from four hundred years ago? Well,
for one thing, his prophecies are accurate and kind of eerie. Also, the craze
started in October, which meant that it was about time for a couple of good
scares. As Stephen King once pointed out, horror always works best when it taps
into a specific cultural mood. (The Prophecies are in the public domain, too,
which meant that you could practically print your own money if you spiced it up
with enough fire and brimstone!)
Now that
our introductions are made, let’s move on to some of the prophecies. Please
note that all citations refer to the Damon Wilson book, which I found at Oak
Lawn’s public library.
Doomsday, July 1999:
In
the year 1999 and seven months,
From
the sky will come the great King of terror.
Resurrecting
the great King of Angolmois.
Before
and after Mars will reign happily.
(p.
428)
“Year 1999” and
“seven months,” that’s July 1999. Easy enough. But what to make of the “great
King of terror” coming from the sky? Damon Wilson doesn’t quite know what to
make of it, but I remember reading in a large art-book called Little Boy:
The Art of Japan’s Exploding Subculture something about a Nostradamus craze
hitting Japan in the mid-70s/80s. In that book, there was a passage about the
“Great King of Fright
Perplexed about the “Great King
of Terror” though he is, Wilson explains “the great King of Angolmois” on page 429: he suggests that
Angolmois is an anagram of the French
word for “Mongols.” “King of Mongols” is therefore a reference to Genghis Khan,
who butchered hundreds of thousands during his reign in the thirteenth century.
"Before and after Mars will reign
happily:” Mars, of course, is the god of war in the Roman pantheon.
So, on July 1999,
“the great king of terror” will come from the sky, and from this Genghis Khan
will be resurrected (figuratively—it means that we’ll see a leader who will
kill as many as Genghis Khan did), and that the 21st Century will be a
time of war. The past thirteen years have proven him accurate. So far, so
good…Let’s take a look at his other millennium prophecies.
The Millennium Bug, Midnight 31
December 1999
That
which lives but has no senses,
Will
cause its own death through artifice:
Autun,
Chalan, Langres and the two Sens,
Hail
and ice cause great damage.
(p.
452)
“That which lives but has no
senses…” Oh, that’s me, obviously—“where there’s no sense, there’s no feeling.”
(I kid, I kid.)
Seriously, now: Damon Wilson’s
notes suggest that the first line is Nostradamus’ prediction in 16th
Century terms of the modern computer, and that “death through artifice” is a
prediction of the Millennium Bug (452). (“Death through artifice”…I like that.
Nostro, old bean, I think you might have predicted a heavy metal album.) The
artifice in question could be—and this is my own conjecture—a reference to the
idea that computers would go from 1999 to 1900
instead of 2000, and this is where
all the hubbub came from.
“Autun, Chalan [sic], Langres, and the two Sens” refers
to communes in France. (add external source)
Nostradamus’ reference to these
communes quite frankly puzzles me. Is there a connection that I’m missing?
“Hail and ice cause great
damage.” No-o-o…you think? Somehow, I don’t think this is to be taken
literally. Instead, we have to look at this as a figure of speech. “Hail and
ice” = “freezing,” or “things going cold/stopping.” With the “2000/1900” shift
in the world’s computers, it was thought that everything from planes to nuclear power plants to stock exchanges
would go dead…and, by extension, society itself. The made-for-TV movie Y2K: The Movie ramped up these fears to
include pacemakers stopping. Granted,
it was predicted to be that bad for a while, but thankfully our best computer
technicians prepared for the event.
Nostradamus also predicted that a
series of natural disasters would plague us in the coming century.
For
forty years the rainbow will not appear,
For
forty years it will appear every day:
The
dry earth will grow more parched,
And
there will be great floods when it is seen.
(p.453)
“For forty years…”
For heavens’ sake, man, make up your mind! I will admit that things have been pretty inconstant, especially
within the last couple of years. The first two lines, of course, refer to the
story of Noah’s Ark, in which God flooded the earth for forty days and forty
nights and left behind a rainbow as a kind of peace offering.
This prediction could, on the one
hand, be a literal prediction of bad weather to come. On the other hand, it
also makes sense if you consider that Noah was one of the first (if not the
first) “doomsday prepper.” Y2K survival kits were big sellers around 1999, as
were generators, guns, etc., and there was an awful lot of talk about preparing
for the coming apocalypse. (Never mind that a community of people would get
more mileage out of their combined supplies by sharing and pooling their
resources…but then again societal collapse is almost always portrayed as
once-friendly neighbors suddenly waging war against each other.)
Nostradamus made
several other predictions about natural disasters, but since they’re mostly
variations on a theme I’ll skip over them in favor of more interesting
territory…These next passages seem to predict nuclear catastrophe.
By
heat like the sun upon the sea,
Around
Negrepont the fish are half broiled.
The
inhabitants will cut them up,
When
Rhodes, and Genoa are in want of biscuits.
(p.456)
“According to Erica Cheetham, ‘Negrepont’ is the Italian name for the
island of Ruboea [sic]” (Wilson 456).
Damon, you silly goose, you meant “Euboea” when you said “Ruboea.”
Anyway…Euboea is a Greek island
out in the Aegean Sea and the Mediterranean Sea. I wonder: Do the locations
Nostradamus references hold any significant meaning, or is he just using them
as examples? I’m inclined to think that he says “Euboea” because Greece has a very warm climate, and anything that
makes the already warm water hot enough to broil the fish in the sea is cause
for alarm. The image of dead, half-broiled fish floating up to the surface is
extremely unsettling.
Now: What causes “heat like the
sun upon the sea?” Obviously not the sun itself, but then the sun is a gigantic fusion reactor, which
means that Nostradamus is trying to explain a nuclear meltdown. Remember that
movie, The China Syndrome? It gets
its title from the image of a reactor going into meltdown, becoming a
superheated glob, melting a hole in the earth, and “digging to China” like in
the cartoons.
“The inhabitants will cut them up/When
Rhodes, and Genoa are in want of biscuits”—In a time of starvation (“in want”
here means “lacking”), these fish are not going to market anytime soon. In
fact, Damon Wilson suggests that this might be one step of a clean-up operation
(456).
This is it: the end of the world.
There are neither cities nor towns because everything has been pounded to
rubble, perhaps in some nuclear accident or attack. Barbarians are not out
pillaging and ravaging because a) even the most ruthless barbarian should be
smart enough not to go into a radioactive wasteland; b) there’s nothing left to
pillage and ravage; and/or c) everyone—yes,
even the barbarians—has died.
Nostradamus’
predictions about future warfare are even more chilling.
When
a fish that is both terrestrial and aquatic,
By
a great wave is thrown upon the shore:
With
its strange, smooth, and horrible shape,
From
the sea the enemies soon reach the walls.
(p.460)
Commentators have suggested that
this “fish” could be a beached submarine or some kind of undersea missile (461),
but I, in a more playful and macabre mood, would venture to say that
Nostradamus got a vision of Pacific Rim.
All four lines, especially the last two, sound a lot like the Kaiju devastating
the human world. Let it not be said that I am out of touch with current events. For those of you who might not have gotten a chance
to see this wonderful, wonderful movie, go out and buy it on DVD. You’ll be
glad you did!
Ennosigee fire from the centre of the
earth,
Will
cause the new city to tremble.
Two
great rocks will war on each other for a long time,
Then
Arethuse will redden a new river.
(p.462)
Now, this one is properly
chilling, or at least it will be with some explanation. “‘Ennosigee’ in the first line is probably a distortion of the Greek
word ‘ennosigaeus,’ meaning
‘earth-shaker’” (462). “The new city” is fairly vague, but many take it to mean
New York City…which becomes alarming when you take 9/11 into account. “Two
great rocks…” Perhaps this means America vs. the Middle East (Iraq/“a rock”? Sorry;
bad pun, I know).
“‘Then Arethuse…’” I’m not sure what to make of
this allusion. It could be a reference to the nymph of Greek mythology, whose
legend is often conflated with the story of Artemis (man approaches her while
she’s bathing; she kills him), but “it might be a cross between Aries [sic] (the Greek god of war), and
the letters ‘USA’” (462-3). Unlikely, but since the last line refers to
something fairly obscure, anyone’s guess is as good as mine.
I should point out that when this
book was published in 1999, an attack like 9/11 was practically unthinkable to
so many of us. If that’s what Nostradamus was thinking of, then he must have
had a hell of a gift.
With that, I think
I’ll stop here, as the predictions I’ve supplied are the only ones that I can
really connect to the Millennium.
No comments:
Post a Comment