Ignatius Montague

The Not Lost Continents

A Tale of Ignored Histories and Missed Lessons

In this modern era of galactic connections and technological marvels, it seems almost quaint to revisit old myths of "lost continents" like Mu and Aztlan. Quaint, but necessary, as new light has been shed on these legends by both terrestrial and extraterrestrial revelations.

Firstly, let's talk bathymetry. Our mapping of underwater topography has come a long way, and if you squint at the readings near the Bahamas or New Zealand, you can't help but see the mountainous peaks of long-submerged lands. Those peaks are not merely geographical anomalies; they are whispers from our past, begging for attention.

And then comes the Hall of Records. For years, this rumored repository of ancient wisdom has been the subject of heated debate, largely dismissed as fantasy by mainstream academia. However, its recent unsealing has proven its existence, and the treasures within speak volumes—literally. Texts found within corroborate myths and legends of these submerged continents. The question then is not whether they existed, but why we chose to ignore them.

Our extraterrestrial friends have been generous, sharing technologies that have allowed us to further delve into our own history. Time-traveling probes, for instance, have confirmed that not only did these continents exist, but they were advanced societies with cultures and technologies far beyond their times. It's quite humbling, actually, to consider how advanced they were, and yet how prone they were to their own destruction. Aztlan thrice destroyed! If that's not a cautionary tale, I don't know what is.

It's intriguing that the evidence of these once-great civilizations is still around us, not just in the form of sunken lands but also in structures that defy conventional explanation. Take the Bimini Road for example. Some insist it's a natural formation, but I would argue that its architecture bears a striking resemblance to Aztlan design—a wall, not a road, with a purpose we're yet to fully grasp.

In summary, we are standing on the precipice of a broader understanding of our history, one that challenges our traditional narratives and begs us to learn from the past. The continents of Mu and Aztlan were not "lost," they were ignored. Ignored by a society too stubborn or too fearful to confront the complexities of its own past.

As we march forward into a universe abundant with life and opportunities, let us not forget the civilizations that came before us. The history of Mu and Aztlan serves not as a mere curiosity but as a warning, a lesson in the perils of hubris and the fragility of even the most advanced societies.

Will we heed these lessons or share their fate? That, dear reader, is the ultimate question.