The Ancient Race
By D. Michael Brown
In the beginning was the word and, after that, authors have been reshaping the same word over and over for years on end – until it all ends.
The word has been stretched and compressed, inflated and deflated, heated and frozen, calculated and recalculated, used in every conceivable form and style. In this book, author D Michael Brown puts the word into a different space. He describes a world of spirits that is unfathomable, yet somehow mysteriously informative.
There are pages of poetry, pages of alliteration, mythology, scientific premise, and farce. It is frightening. It is serious. It is nonsense. The words dispense imagery, symbolism, simile, and metaphor; sometimes all on the same page. Some readers will guess this book is about the end of the world. Some might think it is poetry or coded play on words. Some will surmise it is about mythology or religion, even though the word, “religion,” is only mentioned once in the pages of this book. The source of these words come from a spirit, even though some might opine that the words come from a demented person.
Author D Michael Brown was hit by a train. When he woke up from a six week coma, his spirit compelled him to write the words that even he could not comprehend the meaning of, at the moment. One critic asked him if this book might be a science fiction derivative of James Joyce’s Ulysses. His answer was, “James Joyce was a mind freak. This mind is only a mirror. And as you know, many mirrors are broken and from those mirrors, the refracted image is never complete. I’m not a mind freak. My mind was broken.”
This strange little book contains many shards of visualization; a “Rainbow.” The imagery caused by these broken pieces can be both familiar, but heretofore invisible.
About the Author
D. Michael Brown was born in San Francisco in 1946, but was taken to Egypt by his father Jesse when he was only three. He went to the school of hard knocks for years; but dropped out after failing miserably in his 39 fights with Man #6. So he came back to the States, broke rocks in Death Valley on road construction, where again Man #6 beat him almost to death. After extensive treatment, he went back to school, graduated from San Francisco State in French and spent the rest of his time studying the message of the world’s literature. This made him fall on the stone that the builders rejected.
He didn’t see the stone coming, had never even heard of it before, and what was worse, it was a good for nothing stone. And the message that made him fall on the stone made the stone fall on him. He was broken by it and ground by it – ground to powder by a worthless stone. With the Help of a Friend, however, he was to see that the powder was a silver thread, and it was for to lead him back to his Father’s House with its many mansions; he knew he could enter therein by Way of an open Door that no man could shut, for it was written so.
And so he rose from the heap of powder that he had become from the stone’s relentless pounding, like a Phoenix rises from its ashes. And dressed in sack cloth and ashes, he began to write a little book. He endured more of the stone’s pitiless poundings, for the powder into which he was again pulverized was always assumed to be a silver thread. Well, he finished the third and final edition of the little book, under the persistent pressure of the pummeling and pounding produced by that pariah of a pierre, but he was assuaged under the stone’s merciless pounding; hard, hard, and harder still was the pounding from that blessed stone. The Ancient Race lights the way to see the Reason for that stone being a rejected stone: It can pulverize the 144,000 stones from the cornerstone which is the first stone, to the keystone which is the last stone. That is to say, when the cornerstone and keystone are not sealed together, there is going to be hell to pay.