• Michael Henry Dunn


(An Excerpt from "From the Gold to the Goddess - The True Story of the Restoration of Chivalry & The Templar Return," copyright Michael Henry Dunn, 2018, all rights reserved)

Shortly after I woke up that morning as a newly minted minor celebrity in the alt-media world, the days dwindled down to the feverishly anticipated date of December 21st, 2012. I have little to add to the reams of material written about the power of that supposedly pivotal date in history, when our planet aligned with galactic center for the first time in 24,000 years. A clairvoyant friend told me that the spirit of the great metaphysical scholar Dr. Manly Palmer Hall had revealed to him that on that date “nothing will change – but nothing will ever be the same.” Others predicted that tangible waves of energy would bombard the planet, triggering worldwide earthquakes and floods, or that waves of bliss would engulf all humanity, as our very DNA would transform, lighting up the “junk strands” in our genetic codes to quicken human evolution into a glorious new phase.

This, of course, did not happen…that I know of. And now, eight years later in 2020, many say that these developments did in fact occur and are now accelerating.

But back in the heady days leading up to the magical date, whistle-blowers in alternative journalism spoke of alien technology possessed by the Cabal which allowed them to see into the future – and that they could never see past 12-21-12, beyond which lay a mysterious timeline which they hoped to manipulate in favor of their agenda. Reports spoke of vast underground cities which they had built in order to survive the population-reducing war they intended to unleash, or of dark bargains made with malevolent alien races to transform the surface and atmosphere of the planet through “geo-engineering” accomplished by massive chem-trails laid down over 20 years in a secret government program.

If we made it past 12-21-12, reports said, the “Freedom Timeline” would have triumphed, and though things would be bleak for some years, humanity would be on its way toward “Ascension” – a transformative event which would lift humanity into a higher dimension, leaving the dark agenda of the Cabal to dissipate in the ethereal dust of timelines bypassed by history.

I really didn’t know what to make of these rumors, and the practical skeptic in me was of the opinion that the best outcome of this era would be that the hard spiritual school which is our planet would survive as a beautiful but beleaguered place of learning for billions of souls, with strife and conflict likely to continue for some centuries. The 24,000 year cycle of the 2012 phenomenon has a link to the ancient Hindu concept of the Yugas – the rising and falling cycles as humanity achieves a Golden Age, only to sink into ignorance again…only to rise again as the ages pass, repeating the cycle in an ascending spiral of evolution.

And within this eternal cycle, the Divine would reap the harvest: the perfection of souls, as one by one each soul realizes that there really is no separation from God, that, in the words of the great Yoga master, Paramahansa Yogananda, “we are as much a part of Him now as we have ever been…all we have to do is deepen our knowing.” The thought that one by one we all inevitably wake up to the fact of Reality as The Great Game, the Cosmic Drama, the eternal play of the Divine Mother – this has always had a deep appeal for me, and resonates with some deep place in my consciousness.

(David Wilcock's coverage of Neil Keenan and the Global Collateral Accounts)

But as the date itself approached, I was in the thrall of the Global Accounts story, having completed the final draft of the preface to the Trillion Dollar Lawsuit, and basking in the reception to the Neil Keenan video, which made such glorious promises of a world to be imminently transformed by the Assets.

Word from Keenan in Indonesia was that operational funds would soon be released so that he could complete his work – with the offer to me of a position as his Communications Director. Meantime, I had been paid for my work on the lawsuit, allowing me to erase some debts. Part of my fee was paid in the form of airfare from Los Angeles to Australia. The lady in my life (whom I had been dating for three years) was a prominent speaker on issues of peace and global health, and had been invited to a New Age-flavored conference in Byron Bay – and I was invited to lead kirtan chants at the event as well.

As it happened, Byron Bay is the easternmost point on the Australian continent – in fact, the easternmost point in the International Date Line. Therefore, as the sun rose on December 21st, 2012, the “energies” coming in from the cosmic alignment with galactic center would strike the Earth first on the beach at Byron Bay, where I would be standing with my sweetheart.

I confess that by this time I secretly thought myself to be a rather special fellow.

In the event, however, the day was a dud. The airline misplaced my harmonium. My concert was cancelled. My lady and I had a rather nasty quarrel. We stood sullenly on the beach as the “magic moment” came and went – with no global transformation in evidence, and certainly no “explosion into bliss” on our part.

Looking back, I still see the date as a marker of some kind, after which the triumph of the human spirit over our darker impulses did indeed somehow become inevitable – if only through the usual hard slog of years of work. If someone had told me then that the Lawsuit would be thwarted, that the Assets would once again be compromised, that there was in fact no jurisdiction in the world in which Keenan’s lawsuit would be allowed to go forward in any meaningful way, and that the Restoration of the Rule of Law would become, for me, inextricably intertwined with an attempt to restore history’s most legendary Order of Chivalry…in fact I might actually have said, “yeah, that sounds about right.”

But at that time, hope was still high that we were on the brink of amazing events. I had been told that a meeting in Beijing would be necessary with representatives of the ancient families which had legitimate claim to some 85% of the assets in the Global Accounts – and that I would have work to do there.

A descendant of the Ching Dynasty – the last to rule China before the end of the Empire – was said to be secretly acknowledged even by the Chinese government as having a claim to the title of “Empress” – thus in a position to be consulted on the disposition of the trillions of dollars in gold which lay in the bunkers and tunnels. Again, my knowledge of history and geopolitics made me dubious of this notion – why on earth would the Communist government acknowledge any authority or legitimacy of a dynasty that had been overthrown 100 years before? - but, hey, if someone wanted to fly me to Beijing to cover a story like that, why not?

Over the next eight weeks, negotiations went back and forth, with the prospect that on any day I might get the call to fly to China. A man claiming to be an illegitimate son of billionaire Howard Hughes had somehow wormed his way into the mix as a representative of “the Empress,” as Keenan worked his intelligence community contacts to obtain information on how the Obama administration would respond to “the Announcement” of the release of the Assets. A thorough background check was conducted on me, I was told, with Keenan remarking, “Geez, kid, you’re as clean as a whistle – haven’t you done anything wrong?”

In early middle age, I was by no means a “kid,” but to Neil I was more or less a kid brother.

Then news came of a major snag. Keenan’s trusted contact to the tribal Elders in Indonesia - a young man named Martha Wibawa (called Nelu) who had arranged the midnight ceremonial meeting with the Elders for Keenan at the hotel in Bali, had been arrested while carrying currency from the Elders meant to finance Keenan’s work. A meeting had been arranged for him to have the currency authenticated at a major bank in Jakarta. Instead, in what looked for all the world like a frame-up orchestrated by forces hostile to Keenan’s work, young Nelu was arrested in the parking lot of the bank, whereupon it was discovered that counterfeit currency had been placed in his bag along with the legitimate notes from the Elders.

In a sad family irony, it would turn out that Nelu’s own father-in-law had placed the “bad” currency in the bag, having been led to believe it was real by certain hostile persons who shall remain nameless. Indonesian family custom held that Nelu should distribute funds around to family – and his unscrupulous father-in-law (having been manipulated by the above-named nameless ones) felt left out and decided to take matters into his own hands, with grim consequences for his daughter’s husband.

Nelu was facing at least two years in prison – and Keenan was unwilling to trust anyone else as his contact to the Elders. Nelu was his man, and Neil Keenan can be fiercely loyal to those who are loyal to him. This might mean that progress toward an agreement with the Elders – the whole basis for “The Announcement” – would be stopped in its tracks until Nelu was freed. The funds meant to finance Keenan’s work had been seized as evidence in Nelu’s case – funds which also would have covered my salary once I arrived in Indonesia.

The immediate task at hand was now to free Nelu from prison, with a pivotal court date approaching at which Keenan hoped to have the charges thrown out.

January of 2013 came and went as I weighed my options. If I took the chance that the funds would be released, I would be going to Indonesia with no guarantees whatsoever – Keenan had made that clear. “We could use you, Michael, and if you decide to come, we’ll fly you over and you’ll have room and board at a nice hotel – but no guarantees about when or if you’ll be paid, or how long you’ll be here.”

Ordinary sane considerations would have ruled the proposition out immediately. I could take a leave of absence from my job, but a prolonged stay in Jakarta would certainly put the job at risk. I had some funds left over from my fee for the preface to the lawsuit, but these would not last long.

But my work at the monastery publishing center was not fulfilling. I was grateful for the serene environment, but my duties were not challenging – and I felt a gnawing awareness that this might be the door to the higher and more fulfilling life purpose I had longed for. All my life, I had taken what others viewed as foolhardy chances, and they had always paid off…at least in terms of enriching life experiences, if not in cold hard cash.

On one level, this development gave the already quixotic mission an irresistible aspect (to me, anyway) of selfless service. The cash consideration might well be out the window - now the only dependable factors in play were adventure and idealism. Whereas at first, I would have been on my way to a well-paid gig sharing the news of an epochal event with the world - with an employer who had just been appointed guardian of untold trillions – now I would simply be risking life, limb, love, and fortune on a perilous and dubious quest with a fellow brazen Irishman.

How could I say no?

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