As we all know, Atlantis was the first global civilization. There hasn’t been one since, not even our own, which, despite its attempts at internationalism, is fragmented everywhere.
An oicumene, or world-power (from whence our term “ecumenical”), presided over a Golden Age of global grandeur and sun-worship, according to Hesiod, an early Classical Greek historian.
Its movers and shakers were pyramid-builders, who raised their unique structures from the Atlantic isles eastward to Egypt and Sumer, and westward to the Americas.
The pyramids of Japan’s Mount Kasagi, on the other hand, are far less well-known. They might be the last remnants of the Atlantean civilizers who once governed the world. Standing roughly seven feet tall and fourteen feet wide at the base, it is a tremendous work of art. Nobody knows who carved it, when it was completed, or why.
Outside of Nagoya, in north-central Japan, the mountainous, highly wooded, and surprisingly sparsely inhabited region is seldom recognized by visitors, even many Japanese.
On the slopes of Mount Kasagi, an almost perfect symmetrical stone pyramid lies practically concealed amidst the lush plant life of the forest floor. It was painstakingly cut from a single massive piece of solid granite weighing an estimated nine tons, with no apparent surface marks.
Because no other stone like it could be discovered in the vicinity, getting the massive block to its perch on a mountain crest took transportation skills equal to those required for its cutting. The lush greenery that surrounds the monument, as well as its position in a valley, indicate that it was never intended to serve as an astronomical observatory.
Professor Nobuhiro Yoshida, President of the Japan Petroglyph Society, says there have been no graves associated to this “trigonon” (Kitakyushu). He is one of several Japanese scholars who have researched the structure, despite the fact that its presence is largely unknown in the West. Local peasant mythology, on the other hand, believes that a white snake dwells beneath and within the Mount Kasagi pyramid.
As part of an ancient custom, pious villagers still leave a gift of eggs as a ceremonial feast for the serpentine genius loci, or “spirit of the place.”
There is no other place in Japan or Asia where the fabled connection between a holy snake and egg symbolism exists. It is known as Kneph, the serpent embodiment of Khnemu, on the opposite side of the world, in the Nile Valley.
His snake power (Kneph) appears to be the Egyptian equivalent of Benten, the goddess of Mount Kasagi’s “trigonon,” because her narrative refers to her as the Lady of the White Serpents and mentions her ancient arrival in Japan from across the sea. Her emblems, stone and bronze depictions of a pyramid, are on exhibit at Shirorama, her Tokyo shrine.
The Egyptian phoenix-like bird of immortality, the Benben, is likewise linked with a holy egg, and Benten looks to be tied to it. Benben was the name and personification of the pyramidian, who was incorrectly called the “capstone” of the Great Pyramid. The relationship between Benten and Benben looks to be too close to be a coincidence.
The Japanese-Egyptian analogies grow even greater when we discover that the “trigonon’s” apex angle—76 degrees—is comparable to that of the Great Pyramid. The mysterious pyramidian isn’t alone. Every 100 meters up Mount Kasagi’s ridge, four additional similarly carved stone monuments are positioned, three of them forming a triangle pattern. The pyramid-builders placed a high importance on this remote and practically inaccessible region, as evidenced by the abundance of prehistoric rock art in their immediate surroundings.
While no additional “trigonons” have been found, Atami-san does have a setting that is similar to Atlantis. Mount Atami is a massive but dormant volcano on Japan’s Izuhanto Peninsula (Shizuoka Prefecture ken, Honshu), facing Sagami-nada (the Gulf of Sagami). It is from this ancient spring that the name of the city of Atami, which is located within the crater, is derived.
Atami-san has an Atlantean appearance, as he is almost completely immersed in the water. Although Neolithic findings in the crater show the location has been occupied since more thoroughly prehistoric periods, when the term originated, Atami was an important resort as early as the 5th century A.D. The word “Atami,” a possible Atlantean linguistic relic, has no meaning in Japanese.