The 2012 Story (30 page)

In 2007, author and Unknown Country radio host Whitley Strieber published a novel called
2012: The War of Souls
. He had written an article on 2012, which appeared a short time before his book came out, that made connections between Harmonic Convergence and 2012, drawing from ideas found in the Argüelles material. When his book came out, it was exactly what it seemed to be—a horror story flavored with Maya-sounding words and names but with no accurate Maya information at all. The title, “2012,” was clearly a marketing strategy. I found it humorous that I was mentioned, along with William Henry and Graham Hancock, as thinkers whom the aliens would have to take out immediately after they appeared on that fateful future day. An alien hit contract was thus put out on my life, at least in the realm of horror fiction. The co-opting of 2012 for a fiction book is not that surprising. What is surprising is that Whitley Strieber would thereafter be called upon to keynote 2012 conferences and speak with authority on 2012 in film documentaries.

Another writer, Steve Alten, wrote a science fiction book called
Domain
that liberally used my alignment theory while getting some of the specifics wrong. This may seem nitpicky, but ideas stick in the public consciousness, and confusion about a new idea such as the galactic alignment can easily be fueled by fictionalized treatments. When I was contacted in the summer of 2005 by 1080 Productions, under contract to produce a 2012 documentary for the History Channel, I was surprised to learn that Alten was on board as a script consultant and writer. I wondered why a science fiction writer who had fictionalized my 2012 alignment research would qualify as a documentary screenplay writer. I should have known that the project was going to be beset with disappointments, but I agreed to participate after getting assurances that the Maya Creation Myth’s message of transformation and renewal would get an equal and fair hearing.

On site in Chichén Itzá, the film crew had set up for a night shot in the Temple of a Thousand Columns, a short distance from the famous Pyramid of Kukulcan. Local Maya youngsters had been hired to enact, so they believed, a dance drama. Alten and the director for 1080 Production were codirecting the scene as midnight approached. I listened to them discussing what they wanted to happen: A Maya girl was supposed to be abused, disrobed, and have her heart torn out. An altar was prepared and a fire was kindled. A man with a stone dagger would hover over the girl’s chest, flailing the knife downward while the camera picked up the shadow play against the wall. Blood could be added later in postproduction.

Alten pushed his vision of what he wanted to happen in the scene with little sensitivity, and I could feel the centuries of oppression and abuse experienced by the Maya getting replicated and projected onto the girl. It started getting ugly, and I asked if all this was really necessary. The Maya girl, resisting, started crying, and that put a quash on the scene. The half-finished footage was not used in the film. This shocking occurrence was charged with symbolism. The Maya youngsters had prepared a dance, but that wasn’t what the directors wanted—they wanted violence, a heart sacrifice, something horrific to underscore the barbarity of the Maya. But that’s not what the Maya were about. There they stood, perplexed, being forced into a little skit-fantasy dreamed up by sensationalizing drama kings.

Almost a year later, the film was released and I was surprised at how much of a doomsday message it had. It was as if they chose to emphasize the most salacious possible reading of the 2012 material, favoring fictionalized fantasies rather than straight readings of the Maya Creation Myth. My previous experience, six years earlier with the Discovery Channel, was pleasant by comparison. I immediately began receiving e-mail from viewers accusing me of being a doomsayer. This frustrating turn of affairs inspired me to write a review of the documentary, called “How Not to Make a 2012 Documentary.” It was bit sarcastic and cathartic, but right on target.
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The History Channel had anticipated by a few months what would be fully fledged in Mel Gibson’s
Apocalypto
movie. A fictionalized film, however, can take license with facts in ways that we don’t expect a “documentary” will. Still, I was aghast at the brutal portrayal of the Maya in the film as well as the many inaccuracies. Meanwhile, another mainstream film slipped into the theaters and went virtually unnoticed by the justified critics of
Apocalypto
. Darren Aronofsky’s
The Fountain
was framed against the backdrop of Maya themes, Maya astro-theology, and spiritual wisdom connected to the symbol of the Maya sacred tree. The movie struck me in three phases, following directly upon my first, second, and third viewings of it. First, I was intrigued and amazed. After my second viewing, I was impressed and awed. After my third viewing, I knew it was a masterpiece. It should be considered on par with Kubrick’s
2001: A Space Odyssey
. But it’s not for popcorn chasers—you will be rewarded by paying attention, for there is a very specific and clear message that the film conveys, one wrapped in a multilayered tapestry operating simultaneously on three temporal levels. I don’t know how he managed to pull it off, but Aronofsky worked a miracle. His message was true to Maya religion and is perhaps the most profound perennial wisdom teaching one can find in any spiritual tradition: Immortality cannot be won by living forever; it is experienced only when one fully embraces death.

In late 2005, a writer named Jon Behak sent me a manuscript for a novel he had written. He said he was a longtime reader of my books and had even acquired a rare copy of my autobiographical spiritual odyssey from 1991,
Mirror in the Sky
. He had written the whole thing in February that year, in a cabin in the San Bernardino Mountains east of Los Angeles. I was the thinly veiled main protagonist. This would normally be a cause for concern, but Behak handled complex issues deftly and wrapped them all in a multileveled mystery that I found very insightful. It reminded me of a cross between Um berto Eco and John Crowley. It was written and sent to me before
The Fountain
movie was released, but in retrospect they are oddly similar—a story operating on several different levels simultaneously, with profound teachings woven in between worldly travel adventures and relationship dilemmas. I’m helping him get it placed for publication.

Gregg Braden, an author who endeavors to integrate science and spirituality, produced a book on 2012 in early 2009.
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An interesting voice in the self-actualization movement, and a really nice guy, Braden offers another system based on fractal time, a model of spiritual unfolding and history. I was a bit perplexed at his reference to the galactic alignment and magnetic pole shifts. It is reminiscent of math models devised by McKenna, Argüelles, and Calleman. How is it that all these systems operate differently and utilize proprietary concepts and intervals, yet are all believed to be true and accurate? Could it be that the number of possible systems that one could design are virtually unlimited, it’s just a matter of imagination? And if they all share with the Maya wisdom teachings a foundation in a universal law, mathematical principle, insight, or teaching, then why do we need to revise or update the Maya’s traditional system? Can we patent and claim proprietary ownership over variant versions of a cosmology that is, at its root, universal? This is in fact a tendency of the Western scientific mind-set, to attribute laws and principles to one “discoverer,” or name, or personality. Thus, we get Newton’s Theory of Gravity. Does he own gravity? Do his descendants get a royalty every time someone falls down? Is Dreamspell, or the Braden Law, McKenna’s Time Wave, or Calleman’s system sufficiently derivative such that no Maya copyright is violated? This isn’t simply about discussing or elaborating Maya calendar teachings, or reconstructing them as I attempt to do, but creatively relabeling them and calling them your own. Perhaps I should create an ornate new categorizing system, such that 1 would be written as an
a,
2 would be a
b,
the % sign would replace =, and so on. Then I could rewrite Einstein’s mathematical formula for the Theory of Relativity and call it “The Jenkins Theory of Spacetime-Energy Non-Absoluteness.”

In 2007, Sounds True Publishing took the lead in producing an anthology of writings on 2012.
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I was closely involved in consulting on this book, and I helped contextualize their contributions. I helped them fill the missing contribution from Argüelles, who was unreachable in Australia at the time, by suggesting they transcribe the audio interview they had made with him back in 1987. The 2012 discussion unavoidably ranges over a broad arena of approach. I was surprised that some contributors simply adapted previously written articles on “human potential” by adding a few references to 2012 here and there. This introduces a problem in the popular treatment of 2012, that of the “insta-expert” who, having gained market share with previous successes, is called upon to comment on 2012 and instantly is hailed as a longtime student of Maya thought and traditions. Or 2012 becomes merely an icon to speak about responsible business practices, with no reference to the Maya or the Maya calendar needed. It’s all a bit strange, I must say. Nevertheless, interviewers, journalists, and anthology publishers who take up the 2012 topic do have a difficult challenge.

The publishing industry has been struggling to figure out how to “brand 2012.” Sounds True invited me to give a presentation to national marketing reps at the International New Age Trade Show in Denver in 2007. I emphasized what I’ve been saying for years: A well-documented reconstruction of the 2012 cosmology has been offered, the Maya material says nothing about apocalypse, cycle endings are about transformation and renewal, there are relevant spiritual teachings in the Maya material that speak to the challenges that arise during cycle endings, the Maya prophecy for 2012 has come true (see Chapter 9), and a Maya renaissance is afoot that bodes a larger shift of consciousness, away from the current dominator style of culture (to use the terminology of Riane Eisler).
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It made sense to them that 2012 could, and should, be engaged proactively and doomsday should be relegated to the back burner. Sounds True continues to publish broad-spectrum offerings on 2012 in print and audio formats. They are a good resource for what people are saying on 2012, with which the public can judge for themselves. This process will at least identify how collective humanity is going to engage, internalize, and shape the 2012 meme for good or bad.

Daniel Pinchbeck appeared on the 2012 stage in 2006 with his book
2012: The Return of Quetzalcoatl
. The title refers to a basic idea in Mesoamerican religion revolving around the deity figure called Quetzalcoatl (also known as the Plumed Serpent). As Frank Waters explained so beautifully in his book
Mexico Mystique
, this serpent bird represents the integration of opposites. Pinchbeck applied this idea to 2012 and believes that 2012 signals the development of spirituality beyond being fixated on dualisms. This is, of course, the goal of any spiritual tradition. The appearance of Daniel’s book took me by surprise, as I had communicated with him by e-mail three or four years earlier. When I received the book, I was glad that Daniel had summarized my work on the galactic alignment and at Izapa. He had visited Argüelles in Portland and found Calleman’s theory of interest, and shared a lot of confessional narratives of his personal journey, struggles, psychedelic visions, and observations.

I shared a series of weekend conference events with Daniel in the fall of 2008—in New York, Arkansas, Florida, and San Francisco. Conference engagements can be both intriguing and exhausting, and we didn’t have much time to sit on the sidelines and talk. I try to keep an open mind, and Daniel states he is in service of the development of spirituality. It may be my defect, but there’s something about Daniel that is enigmatic, that I can’t quite grok. He’s popularized the 2012 “meme” but doesn’t really approach it through Maya traditions or teachings. He has good ideas about community building and economic restructuring but thinks Calleman’s problematic system is compelling. He speaks of opening consciousness to transformation, which requires transcending the ego, but wants us to read about his personal history, psychosexual adventures, and visions. He’s about my age and we might have hung out in high school; then again, he might have been the guy to slip LSD in my coffee. This contradictory nature perhaps is his embodiment of Quetzalcoatl, the dual-natured serpent bird.

Daniel has made a name for himself as something of a pop icon, speaking at Burning Man, appearing on
The Colbert Report,
and embarking on vision trips to South America. He tells us in his book
Breaking Open the Head
that he was a typical New York City skeptic, suspicious of spiritual things, until his mind was opened with shamanism and ayahuasca (a South American brew made with DMT, a powerful hallucinogen). That book, which appeared in 2002, placed him next in line after Timothy Leary and the late Terence McKenna as an advocate for the transformative power of psychoactive plants. He can be lighthearted, relating the humorous story of his appearance on
The Colbert Report,
when Colbert said, “Daniel, you’ve been called the next Timothy Leary . . . We just got rid of the last one, why do we need another?”

One effect of his 2012 book was to shift the 2012 topic away from the need to reference the achievements and perspectives of Maya civilization. The “2012 meme” doesn’t require them. The debates and confusions caused by Calleman’s end date and Argüelles’s Dreamspell day-count were quickly summarized and passed by, as if the question of accuracy in representing the 2012 calendar weren’t that important. And the truth is, for most people it isn’t. So Pinchbeck adopted 2012 as a general icon to springboard the “development of spirituality” with a sense of urgency. His subsequent talks and his Reality Sandwich website have addressed political and economic dilemmas and questions, as well as practical challenges of sustainability. He thus speaks to younger people who are concerned with creating a viable future by adopting sustainable values. This would be, following one of McKenna’s ideas, a kind of “archaic revival.”