The Parthenon Code reveals, for the first time in 2,000 years, the meaning of the seven sculptural themes on Athena's temple. A simple, but hidden artists' code expressed on vase-paintings and the Parthenon sculptures, leads to the astonishing truth that Greek myth/art chronicles in great detail the reestablishment of the way of Kain (Cain) after the Flood.

Built in the fifth century b.c., the Parthenon has been venerated for more than two millennia as the West’s ultimate paragon of beauty and proportion. Since the Enlightenment, it has also come to represent our political ideals, the lavish temple to the goddess Athena serving as the model for our most hallowed civic architecture. But how much do the values of those who built the Parthenon truly correspond with our own? And apart from the significance with which we have invested it, what exactly did this marvel of human hands mean to those who made it? In this revolutionary book, Joan Breton Connelly challenges our most basic assumptions about the Parthenon and the ancient Athenians. Beginning with the natural environment and its rich mythic associations, she re-creates the development of the Acropolis—the Sacred Rock at the heart of the city-state—from its prehistoric origins to its Periklean glory days as a constellation of temples among which the Parthenon stood supreme. In particular, she probes the Parthenon’s legendary frieze: the 525-foot-long relief sculpture that originally encircled the upper reaches before it was partially destroyed by Venetian cannon fire (in the seventeenth century) and most of what remained was shipped off to Britain (in the nineteenth century) among the Elgin marbles. The frieze’s vast enigmatic procession—a dazzling pageant of cavalrymen and elders, musicians and maidens—has for more than two hundred years been thought to represent a scene of annual civic celebration in the birthplace of democracy. But thanks to a once-lost play by Euripides (the discovery of which, in the wrappings of a Hellenistic Egyptian mummy, is only one of this book’s intriguing adventures), Connelly has uncovered a long-buried meaning, a story of human sacrifice set during the city’s mythic founding. In a society startlingly preoccupied with cult ritual, this story was at the core of what it meant to be Athenian. Connelly reveals a world that beggars our popular notions of Athens as a city of staid philosophers, rationalists, and rhetoricians, a world in which our modern secular conception of democracy would have been simply incomprehensible. The Parthenon’s full significance has been obscured until now owing in no small part, Connelly argues, to the frieze’s dismemberment. And so her investigation concludes with a call to reunite the pieces, in order that what is perhaps the greatest single work of art surviving from antiquity may be viewed more nearly as its makers intended. Marshalling a breathtaking range of textual and visual evidence, full of fresh insights woven into a thrilling narrative that brings the distant past to life, The Parthenon Enigma is sure to become a landmark in our understanding of the civilization from which we claim cultural descent.

Athena and Eden reveals the surprising identity of Athena and unlocks the long-hidden meaning of the sculptures which graced the east faade of her famous temple, the Parthenon. Greek myths tell us much about the sculptures, but the key to their correct interpretation lies elsewhere. The simple secret: Genesis and the Parthenon sculptures tell the same story from opposite viewpoints.

Verlagsinfo: The Divine Proportion reveals a number of simple patterns: It is seen in the seed patterns of fruits, the family tree of bees, the pyramids of Egypt, Gothic cathedrals, Renaissance paintings, the human body, shells ... the list is endless. Mathematicians use the Greek symbol to represent the Divine Proportion and equate it to a number that is defined by the ratio (1 + 5) / 2 or 1.6180339.... Numbers do little, however, in describing this unique ratio that is found everywhere in nature and for 2500 years has been an aesthetic guide in art and architecture. Beginning with calculations found on clay tablets in ancient Babylon, the story of Divine Proportion can be traced alongside the history of numbers to the fractals of the digital age. As its many forms unfold we uncover the Golden Rectangle in the Parthenon, Golden Spirals in the human inner ear, a Golden Angle in the petal patterns of a rose, and the Fibonacci numbers in lilies, daisies, pineapples, and in our own DNA. With its natural balance and elegant beauty, the Divine Proportion is a perpetual reminder that our hope for regeneration and continuity lies in realizing the meaningful and harmonious relationship of all the parts to the whole. This book deals with the Divine Proportion, a secret code that rules art, nature, and science. It is known by many names: Golden Mean, Sacred Cut and Phi are only a few; and it is not by chance that the Divine Proportion was given its name. It has been called divine because over thousands of years it has been deemed to be so.

Ruminates on ancient remains and antiquities, illuminating an important element of contemporary cultural life: the dynamic between loss and delight.

Top army engineer Tyler Locke is given a mysterious ancient manuscript. Written in Greek, it initially seems indecipherable. But with the help of classics scholar Stacy Benedict, Locke comes to understand that this manuscript could provide the clues to the greatest riches known to mankind - the legendary treasure of King Midas. However, there are others who are also hot on the trail - and it rapidly becomes a race against time to crack a code that is both fiendishly difficult and potentially deadly.... A sweeping, gripping read, The Midas Code blends fascinating incidents from myth and legend with a modern plot that will have you guessing to the very last page.

If you’ve read "The Parthenon Code: Mankind’s History in Marble" by Mr. Johnson, you’re in for a further treat. "Noah in Ancient Greek Art" goes deeper into the true identity of Athena, identifying the real woman she represents—the one who came through the Flood on the ark as Ham’s wife. It sounds fantastic, but just wait and see. The evidence is overwhelming. In the early post-Flood world, this woman was so influential in promoting the resurgence of the way of Kain (Cain) that every Mediterranean and Mid-eastern culture idolized her, often using different names for different aspects and achievements of this “goddess.” If you haven’t yet read "The Parthenon Code," you’re in for a big surprise in this book. What today’s scholars call ancient myth is not myth at all, but rather the history of the human race expressed from the standpoint of the way of Kain. This new book is written in such a way that you will be able to pick up and understand this crucial thread very quickly. In most cases, the ancient art speaks for itself. The Greek gods look exactly like people because, with rare exceptions, that is who they represent. In Plato’s Dialogue, "Euthydemus," Socrates referred to Zeus, Apollo and Athena as his “lords and ancestors.” Another witness to this obvious truth is the life of the great hero, Herakles. À la “George Washington slept here,” scores of Greek towns claimed that Herakles had performed some kind of great feat (often one of his twelve labors) within or near their boundaries. Herakles was a real man. In fact, he was the Nimrod of Genesis. On a vase-painting in the book, Athena picks up the hero Herakles in her chariot at his death, and takes him to immortality on Mount Olympus. Who does he join there, space aliens? Of course not. He joins his ancestors, the Olympian family. If it looks like a human, talks like a human, and acts like a human, it must be a human. This is the key to understanding Greek art. The Greeks claimed their descent from an original brother-sister/husband-wife pair named Zeus and Hera. Zeus and Hera are the Greek versions of Adam and Eve. The Greeks referred to Zeus as the father of gods (ancestors) and men, and to Hera as the mother of all living. Their poets and playwrights traced this first couple to an ancient paradise called the Garden of the Hesperides, and always depicted it with a serpent-entwined apple tree. You have probably heard at one time or another about Eve eating the apple. The Hebrew word for fruit in Chapter 3 of Genesis is a general term. The idea that Adam and Eve took a bite of an apple comes to us from the Greek tradition. The author gives you this, and all the other background you need to understand Noah’s place in ancient Greek art. As the narrative progresses, you’ll see that Noah was not some vague figure remembered by a few maverick Greek artists. Greek vase-artists and sculptors actually defined the rapid growth and development of their contrary religious outlook in direct relation to Noah and his loss of authority. Greek artists portrayed the victory of their man-centered idolatrous religion as the simultaneous defeat of Noah and his Yahweh-believing children. The twelve labors of Herakles sculpted on the temple of Zeus at Olympia (restored and explained in Section III of the book), in and of themselves, chronicled and celebrated mankind’s successful rebellion against Noah and his God after the Flood. The most important part of this book may be Section IV which explains why the scholarly world remains blind to the obvious and simple historical truths expressed in ancient art. The short answer is that Darwinism (what the author calls Slime-Snake-Monkeyism) has thoroughly polluted the mainstream sciences. Today, mainstream anthropologists do not study the record of our origins that our ancient ancestors have left us in their art and literature. Instead, they study chimpanzees. This is very sad, pitiful even. These grown men and women work diligently and proudly in an effort to find the evidence that will finally “prove” that they themselves, along with their vaunted intellects, are the products of unintelligent chance, with no expectation of immortality. The author continues to marvel along with the apostle Paul, as perhaps you will as well: “Does not God make stupid the wisdom of this world?” (I Corinthians 1:20). "Noah in Ancient Greek Art" features 140 illustrations including twenty-seven vase-scenes of Noah, most in an historical context. This book is the best evidence against Slime-Snake-Monkeyism you’ll ever read.