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Thus, while Adama tiptoes about in the sleeping house, making himself a drink and gathering his clothes, I will tell you about the Benevolent Order of St. Dionysos.
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There are many official histories of the Benevolent Order of St. Dionysos and all of them are equally bad. They either offer mechanical history which gives a date and a fact and no analysis or they disappear up the dark tunnel of mysticism at just the point at which they should be clever and skeptical. While this is sad, it's not surprising. Ours is, when all's said and done, a practical order devoted to the saving of life and there remains within it, I suspect, more than a tinge of the anti-intellectualism which characterized its founders. Theory follows practice with us, and only those with time on their hands can afford the luxury of an historical perspective. Besides, historians, rightly considered, are both the greatest radicals and the greatest revolutionaries since they show the causes and consequences of ideas. Such types can be an encumbrance to men of action.
What I want to do is explain the origin of the Benevolent Order. I want to give you the true flavor of Dionysos. In the official histories you will search vainly for an explanation of how the Dionysian entered the mainstream of the Otori Order. One can suspect ancient censorship here.
Since I conceived this massive project, the documenting of man's recovery, I have spent many hours in the library digging and sifting, trying to gather the kinds of facts and events that will give us a vivid understanding of the past. I have found some wonderful things and I can affirm that our order is ancient. Our roots belong with the dawn of human consciousness itself.225Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0P2hKTwxDb
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Now, please read the following fragment. I came upon it accidentally while seeking the data on the early spread of our movement. The page was pressed inside the cover of a translation of the Journey which once belonged to a certain Consoeur Marie. This woman was the senior navigation officer aboard the Delphia which, as you know, was the very first ship to carry a human settlement group to live among aliens. All the books which Consoeur Marie took with her on that journey are preserved in our library at Gemon. The planet upon which they settled was called Lorel and the aliens, humanoid as their pictures testify, were given the dubious name of the Lorelei. The scrap is almost six hundred yahrens old and dates from the early ears of optimism and expansion, long before the Wars of Stupid Fools and Clever Geniuses. The manuscript is written in the lady's own bold hand but whether Consoeur Marie composed the piece herself or just copied it from an original remains to be seen. The following is the complete unedited text, and this is the first time that is has been published.225Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLcpUgNjc2q
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First there was Achill.
Achill the hunter. Achill the eye that stares. Achill of the hungry sword. Achill the drinker of blood, the slaughterer, the red man. Achill who tied the still-warm body of Tor behind his chariot and dragged him around the walls of Eden, before the faces of his pale wife and children, before the staring eyes of mother, father and friends, until the flesh came away in strips.
Achill who sees land and calls it his own, who stokes the furnaces of war and whose spittle-flecked lips chant slogans of death.
Know his face well.
And whenever the rat-faced cunning murderer stepped out, there was Achill before him, whether on land, in the sea or in the cold vastness of space.
And if all we had was Achill to sustain us, then I would not be writing this song, and you would not be reading it. For Achill plants no grain and Achill founds no temples. Where Achill has walked there is the acrid smell of smoke and the crying of the maimed and dying.225Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡduTZgaXbb0
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Second came The Son, the turner of cheeks, the washer of feet, beloved of sinners, who was the hero for those who had no here and, who promised a life hereafter as a reward for loyalty to The Father.
He taught that goodness is stronger than cruelty, that the man of peace is always the man of courage. He tamed the wild equines, brought peace to the valleys and corn sprang up in his footsteps.
Even Death paused in his labors when The Son walked past. Before The Son's cold, pure gaze Death slunk off into the hollows.
And as he rejoined his Father, he blessed Achill and Achill winced with pain. That was a different kind of victory, a new kind of victory.
When The Son founded temples, Achill sacked them.
Where The Son gained followers, Achill murdered them.
The Son was of the spirit, Achill of the non-spirt, and at the poles of their difference they licked their wounds.
Mankind needed more. Mankind needed Kobol, soft and sure, ever renewing as she always had been, even before the first song was composed.
And then came St. Cyzz, later called the Dionysos, strolling by.225Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnqeX501NEo
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Third came Dionysos. He ate the earth and shat the earth.
When the sad Achill howled in the woods for blood, Dionysos dipped his ladle in the ambrosia vat.
When The Son yelped in agony as the sword of the Achill bit deep, Dionysos sank his teeth into a juicy hook and the grease ran down his chin.
While Christ and Achill warred, Dionysos whored. The noise of his lovemaking was like a beating of wings in the night and his laughter shook the stars. The great moons bled.
When he tore the flesh the women swooned.
When he tore the flesh the men cried out in ecstasy for more.
Oapupronds bloomed in their thousands in the place where he had lain. Snakes graced the land once more. Crawlons came out of corners. The bristling lupus rolled on its back begging to be scratched.
And in the great silence which followed his lovemaking, both The Son and Achill came on their knees and sat at his feet and sucked on his fingers like bovines.225Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtioXOAEnFz
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There is much in this fragment that defies explanation. Many references can only be guessed at, but I would draw your attention to the line, "And then came St. Cyzz later called the Dionysos, strolling by." This confirms that St. Cyzz and Dionysos were originally separate entities.
Who is this Dionysos? I incline to the view that he is more a concept than a man. In antiquity he was one of the Gods of ecstasy, much honored on the vine groves and at festivals celebrating the arrival of the Sunstorm. He was known by many names such as Chuss, Sabaz, Adon, and Paan and Iblis and was widely regarded as a prototype for that same Son who is the main figure in verse two. There is a wildness about Dionysos, a lust for living, a trust and an anarchy. He is neither cruel nor kind, but both. LIFE: primitive as fire, urgent as running water, raw and pagan, golden and gorgeous, in sunshine and shadow. That is Dionysos. I see this with all the clarity of the unliving. In my terms Dionysos is co-equal with electricity.
Now, worship of the principle, which was widespread in the antiquity of the world, was driven underground by the spread of religions which offered life in an afterworld in an exchange for penance in this world. Paradoxically, it was political Son-worship that was the central culprit here and led to the suppression of ancient nature cults. If a Cylon could cry, I would cry, at the waste and misery caused by men and women attempting to be other than in the natures they are.
But underground is not dead. And just as The Son himself was a descendant of Dionysos of the Grain Cradle so many of the most devout followers of The Son were themselves followers of Dionysos without their being aware. Indeed, it would have shocked them had they known and been a cause for strict penitence. One such was St. Cyzz whose spirit was Dionysian but whose practice was severe and even penitential Son-worship.
It was in the yahren 2310, on the parent world called Kobol, that a young man of the House of Adon founded a religious order in a small town on that planet called Sisi. His given name was Cyzz (his father, we are told, having just returned from a successful business venture in a city-state by that name I, and hence the members of the order he founded became known as the Cyzzites. We who serve in the Benevolent Order are their descendants.
From its start the order was characterized by austerity for the brothers and compassion for sinners and a radiant love of all life.
Many delightful stories are told about this young zealot Cyzz, and unfortunately, most of these stories are likely apocryphal. I have noticed that there is an inherent tendency in scribes and historians to dress the bare bones of fact with flesh of their own invention. Myth, history and imagination wear the same bold face. For example, we can read in storybooks how Cyzz bled from the hands and feet after a vision and yet seemingly did not die from hemorrhage. I have asked Serpentine about this and she confirms that such an event is highly unlikely. Maybe this bleeding is meant to be understood symbolically in which case blood may equal life: a traditional exogenesis.
We can also read that Cyzz declared himself sealed to a country girl named Stress. Again without doubt, a symbolic declaration for I can find no record of such a marriage actually having taken place. We can also read that the young Cyzz talked and preached to birds and animals, and even to the stones and the water. This I, Vulpa, the skeptical wordsmith, believe, for it is the central tenet of our Order that all life is to be protected, and Cyzz celebrated the spirit that is found in all things.
Erected outside the gates of our Great Caprican Monastery there lies a remarkable statue. If the tradition is true, then this statue is an ancient pagan likeness of St. Cyzz. No one knows its date but tradition has it that it comes from the antiquity of Kobol. The horned figure of Cyzz is surprisingly small and has narrow shoulders. He is wearing a heavy long-sleeved down with a hood. This is, I suppose, the prototype for the colored gowns worn nowadays by the senior confreres. Despite the gown, an observer can tell that the Saint's arms are as thin as hazel boughs. The arms are outspread and on one arm perches the addler, the angel, the lucine, and, close to the shoulder, a siminoid. On the other arm are the nutcracker, the peapat and a creature with a busy tail and horns. This latter I cannot identify. Irrelevant. The imagery is clear enough. St. Cyzz is talking lovingly to the creatures and they are listening to him. What makes this figure unmistakably pagan and alarming is that the face which peers out from beneath the hood is that of a tauroid.
On the topic of this statue there is a charming story told that in times of great suffering and peril, the statue will come to life and gain the power to walk. It is said to step down form its plinth and move about in the monastery bringing hope and comfort. As you will read, Adama in his recovery believed he saw the statue stepping through the trees and speaking to him. Previous to this, according to the records, the last time the statue was seen walking was walking was during the War of Stupid Fools when there was fear that our planet would be attacked and all our resources plundered. Serpentine, the practical, says she knows nothing of this and naturally, I have not been able to interrogate any other witnesses.
Although the reports are convincing in their detail, I do not believe that the stone statue really walked. That poses too many problems. But I do believe that the men and women of that time though they saw St. Dionysos. It was one of the kindnesses of the human brain, as I have noted, that in times of danger it can conjure up images of reassurance.225Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXL2McHKigm
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So now you have Dionysos before you and St. Cyzz. How did these two become one?
For an answer to this question we must go back to the yahren 2322 of old Kobol and to the activities of a beautiful young lady called Cassiopeia. This lady, later known as St. Cass, was a high priestess of Dionysos.
Driven underground, the worship of Dionysos has survived in numerous rural retreats, in secret groves and under sacred trees. But now the time had come for it to start to emerge, at first discreetly and later, in the 2nd millennium after the death of The Son, in its full majesty, like a bright flower amid dark leaves. The Benevolent Order of St. Cyzz was chosen as the main conduit through which the worship of Dionysos was to be propagated.
On Aires 15 in 2322, Cassiopeia walked into the cathedral at Rufinia dressed in all her finery like a woman about to be sealed. Again, symbolism. The priest officiating at the ceremony was the great, powerful and majestic Bishop Erryl. Tradition demanded that on Sweet Aires namana branches be given to members of the congregation who were celebrating mass. And so it was on this day, Holy Cass, her mind upon divinity, fell into a trance and neglected to collect her namana branch whereupon Erryl, breaching tradition, came down the steps and handed her the final namana branch as if this were part of the rite. As of course it was. But which rite?
Erryl was a priest of Dionysos and in this secret and yet profound way he dedicated a priestess within the holy precincts and mystery of Son-worship.
That very night, Cassiopeia escaped from her father's house and ran away and joined the holy and ascetic order of St. Cyzz.
All so simple. In this way did love of Dionysos enter one of the most powerful orders of the established church.
Over the yahrens a veneration for nature and all life was kept alive through the Order of St. Cass and the Cyzzites. However, such was the fear of the church in those times that Dionysos could not be revealed openly until the power of The Son's church was broken and that did not occur until the 6th Millennium.
And now I must tell that story. Let the record show, however, that Son-worship and kindred religions held back the spiritual development of Mankind for over two thousand yahrens and uncalculated distrust and suspicion between the sexes as well as fear of things of the earth and flesh. I, Vulpa, Scribe-class Cylon and student of history say this.225Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpbnKua0zBM
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Nobody knows when the first war on Kobol occurred. But we can be reasonably confident that hardly a day passed after mankind achieved self-consciousness when someone somewhere was not seeking the death of an enemy. This was the Achill consciousness. Interestingly, the Book of the Word, one of Kobol's great religious texts documenting mankind's relationships with one of its primitive gods, contains a careful analysis of the first murder, when the 1st Lord of Kobol slew his elder brother, Aabel. This same and highly influential book also suggested that mankind was superior to Nature without suggesting that mankind was, at the same time, responsible for Nature. Only mystics such as Cyzz felt in their bones what mankind's true relationship with the planet on which he is a traveler should be. This wretched book, this Book of the Word, which some maintained was a transcript of the words of the one true god, also set up hierarchies in the mind whereby one sex was held to be inherently superior to another. It also suggested that all humans started their lives in a fallen state, that of sin and guilt. Salvation is a reward that is gained after rejecting the very things that make a human being what he is supposed to be.
Guilt. Ha! Guilt as I have observed in my dealings with Adama, is the most corrosive emotion of them all.
Well, after almost 2,000 yahrens of suppression and guilt, finally the cry went up, "God is Dead" and for a time there was great confusion. There were those who spat on the image of the cruel father and his suffering, demanding son, on account of all the injustice they had created. Others recorded the passage of the old Otori-Son-worship gods with dry yet respectful eyes. Dying divinity can yet have some magnificence. The faces of the cruel Gods were gradually worn away until they became a palimpsest on which could be imprinted the faces of new and gentler goddess and gods of soil, sun and water. But these were not images of authority. They were images of internal and intuitive truths---as old as time itself. And what relief they brought!
But this transition (which was also a transformation) did not happen quickly or quietly. Lacking any true sense of why humankind is valuable, slaughter escalated, reaching proportions of frenzy in the 2nd Millennium when genocide was practiced. We can say that the dying Achill, fearful and dread as his strength faded, cast about him in his madness until in his turn, he fell.
Of course, God was not dead. He'd merely shed part of his sex and moved back inside the human mind where true values reside. The space that had been taken up by the old jealous God was quickly taken up by religions of nature, religions of mountains and trees, religions of the planets and religions of ecstasy. Celebrated at every turn was the creative divinity within all humans. In a word, Dionysos.
Dionysos, with ambrosa for blood and coiling like an oiled blue snake, and who bore a striking resemblance to a laughing and irreverent Son, became again an open presence on Kobol.225Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEnfZNZyzWm
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Within a few short yahrens of Kobol being seen from space, rising above the gray face of its biggest moon, a truce was declared between the rival lords who held that planet's fate in their hands. I wish I could tell you that this truce was a result of world consciousness, but it was not. Though the people might plead for respect, care and justice, it was finally economics that led to the truce. Warfare had become too expensive. At the same time and at a deep level, political institutions were discovering a need for change. The truce lasted for mankind to jump deep into space and, in that annus mirabilis 3130, to reach out to the stars.
The names of the first ships tell the optimism of the human spirit. The Daggit, the Sectar, the Bogan, the Celestra, the Boxey, the Ravashol, and the Salik. Within months of those first voyages word returned to Kobol that other life had been found, not just here and there, but everywhere. Life, it seemed, was the norm throughout the galaxy, lowly amoeba, living on the cusp of disaster on a burning moon, with barely more consciousness than a knowledge of whether or not they hurt you, were estimated with the great and sophisticated Herotropians who looked like giant hooded bats and who had achieved space travel and then abandoned it in favor of a peaceful existence at home.
This became the highday of old Mother Kobol.
It was a time when new philosophies called everything into doubt. The non-human life-forms manifestly different, manifestly intelligent, by their very existence compelled a reevaluation of the meaning of the word "civilized" and the word "alien." Indeed, the word "alien" became applied as much to human beings as to life forms that were not native to Kobol.
It was a time when parochialism, fatalism, and petty fascism could have led to the extinction of Kobol but to humankind's credit these -isms were defeated.
It was a time when the old categories of human knowledge were jumbled and broken. Physical science joined with ethics, chemistry with religion, tragedy with farce, so that even wise old men did not know whether to cry or laugh. Value systems became of primary interest and every religion on Kobol sent out its missionaries. Saffron-robed monks with shaven heads sat down beside philosophers with six scampering legs and shared their thoughts. Priests and priestesses sought dialogue with scaly entities who daily drank the blood and ate the flesh of their chosen gods. Some who ventured forth suffered a kind of martyrdom. Others believed that had encountered Diabolis incarnate. Some made headway, others were converted out of their faith. On every front there was change. Kobol itself became a melting pot of creeds.
The Cyzzites changed more than most. Their inherent reverence for life in all its forms, whether fish, bird or flower, meant that from a very early time they accepted alien converts into their number. It was an alien convert, a humanoid from the planet Echellia, a brilliant scholar by all accounts who knew much about Kobol from generations of observations, who effected the liberation of the old god Dionysos and joined him openly with the kindly priest, St. Cyzz. Note that in doing this, the Echellian scholar was merely adopting the Kobollian name Dionysos for a religious principle which is to be found on most advanced worlds. For example, on Echellia the name for our order is Benevolent Order of St. Cyzz, House of Dionysos. This can be seen as an attempt to unify the best that Kobol had to offer and at the same time nullify the destructive power of its institutions.
The Benevolent Order of St. Cyzz, House of Dionysos prospered.
It continues to prosper and it holds its ideals for they are real and manifest and contain neither cruelty nor suppression. Respect for life is the very core of its existence.225Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWwQD92E17U
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And for this the time being is all that need to be known. Later I will speak about the War of Clever Geniuses, and its successor, the War of Stupid Fools, which so devastated the galaxy that it left we of the Benevolent Order as the only organization with the power to journey between planets. Just consider the responsibility that this implied.
We are still paying for this last horrible war. We discovered to our great dismay that Achill was not dead but merely sleeping. Maybe that will always be the case, eh?
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