How about Columbia as a powerful woman? Yes, produced by none other than George Washington. Allow for me to share fictionally speaking:

I most recently came across this writing below, written as a piece of
fiction by a gentleman named Steve who appears to have a female
parner of sorts named Lyn. It seems to be that of a person's very
personal experience, Steve's psychic cosmic experience, but that's
not all. From the very get go this writing brings up historical
truths not only from near ancient times of world history but more
importantly it depicts functioning truths about America as a nation
and specifically speaks to true physical locations and true physical
people which stand tall in America's historical past. What is also
interesting is how at first Lyn is present but then there is no
account of her until the end where there is just an account of her
bathroom. This leads me to believe that again, from a very personal
standpoint and personal experience of Steve's, in this case Lyn
becomes the opposing feature to Steve, i.e. Hot to cold, black to
white, Ying to Yang, hence Male to Female and perhaps Lyn becomes
Columbia. And although some physical places are re-named or have
additional descriptors to them, they all still appear very real and
very on target.

With having such non-fictional elements in such a deep and brief
piece of fictional work, I believe this story, like the Da Vinci
Code, is a premier mixing of truths that reside within a fictional
story. Perhaps I am still not too schooled in literature but lately I
think we are beginning to see a trend where many more pieces of work,
whether literary or movie, or media produced, are all taking on this
fictional story but with very real peoples and places. i.e. Leonardo
Da Vinci, Italy, secret societies, all real, but within a fictional
context and book/movie. Now, with this new dawning of such a style,
combined with the apparent new search for the truth in the world, one
has to wonder if some of these stories are being fueled by leakers.
Leakers being people such as those whistle blowers in the CIA and NSA
who feel it is their duty to make public the secrets which cross the
line of preserving our freedoms in the search for truth and doing so
all the while preserving the very essence of what America is about.
What's more, and here in lies perhaps the most powerful element
behind the Da Vinci Code, is that the book and movie was actually a
code in itself. And I would go so far as to say it is a code for the
whole of society. Then one might ask, what is the actual code then,
which is presumed to reside within the Da Vinci Code book and movie?
Good question, and here may lie the answer. The true code to society
and the main impact this code will have upon the world is that the Da
Vinci Code has shown a way for writers and artists, and people within
high places with access to highly secret levels, to now access a
medium by which they can disclose the truth by placing it into a
story of fiction. WOW! And perhaps this style will lend its hands and
ears to exactly what we are shooting to do; be truthful in real time.
To be Free. To get closer to the Grail and divinity, the simularities
within all religions and hence this shall be done, as on earth, it is
in heaven.

Enjoy this read, it's not often that we get a fresh read on something
this unique and exciting while being offered some insights into a
never before known secret within this world's society. Personally, I
am blown away at my most recent theoretical claim here. I am just
stuck in trying to name it. Could it be called "relative fiction",
"Neo-Fiction" "Light-Fiction"? Oh well, on with the very enlightening
story.........

AND SO- continuing with the Revelations I received in my recent trip
to DC, this piece will chronicle our visit to Alexandria, Virginia,
which took place on Monday.

Now in my visits to the Ghost Capitol I had seen the large towering
structure that I assumed to be the Grand Orient Lodge of Egyptian
Freemasonry. It resembled the Lighthouse of Alexandria, Egypt, which
is something I thought was part of the original design. Once Lyn and
I actually arrived there, however, I discovered the old Grand Lodge
22 was rebuilt in the 20th century as the George Washington Masonic
National Memorial.

This was the tower I had witnessed the spirits of Cleopatra and Aaron
Burr enter. The Memorial does indeed look exactly as I saw, and rests
on a hill (chosen because it slopes at a precise 33.33 degree), which
features a 33 foot-wide Masonic "G" within the compass and square.

After getting a few photos of me in front of the G and on the front
steps, Lyn and I went inside to find ourselves confronted by a huge
bronze statue of George Washington flanked by wall-sized murals of
the designing and building of the Federal District of Columbia. As
soon as we entered an old man appeared, looking barely alive himself,
and offered us a free tour. I will describe the rooms of the tour
briefly, as more detail will follow when I tell of my return to the
place's astral counterpart later that evening...

The first stop was the Royal Arch Room of Capitular Masonry. It has
three walls decorated with murals. On the west wall is a picture of a
craftsman presenting his work for inspection. On the end wall is the
scene of Moses at the Burning Bush. On the opposite side are pilgrims
from Babylon getting their first view of Jerusalem. In between these
is a circular panel portraying "the Vault of Discovery", which shows
the Temple of Solomon in ruins (with his buried treasure supposedly
beneath the rubble). The east wall shows angels teaching Solomon the
Craft. The final wall is not a mural, but a recreation of the Holy of
Holies from Solomon's Temple, wherein a replica of the Ark of the
Covenant and the seven-branched menorah are on display. Also in this
room are four grottoes that contain coin emblems of all the Masonic
lodges throughout North America.

The next stop on the tour, a few floors above, is the Chapel of the
Knights Templar, which contains various artefacts from the crusades
and features four beautiful stained glass windows, depicting "The
Crucifixion", "The Ascension", "The Sermon on the Mount", and "The
Healing of the Blind". Before the Crucifixion window lay a Templar
altar, complete with the Red Cross and suit of medieval armour.

Then we emerged from the elevator to find ourselves on the top floor
of the tower, in the Tall Cedars of Lebanon Throne Room. This room
was as advertised made completely from Lebanese cedar, as Solomon's
original throne room was, and featured a recreation of his throne
with seven candlesticks surrounding it and a large pentagram on the
floor. Then we were let outside to wander the outer viewing terrace,
from which one could see not only all of Alexandria but also Mount
Vernon and Washington DC in the distance.

Then we descended in the elevator and found ourselves in the rooms
below the main entrance, which contain the gift shop and the George
Washington museum, a display depicting his life in a series of cool
interactive exhibits. Also on this floor are the original rooms of
the Grand Orient Lodge of Egyptian Freemasonry, one of which held a
special museum of GW's personal effects, including his chair, family
Bible, and a clock that was stopped at the time of his death. On our
way out I bought several items, among them post cards of the various
rooms in the tower. One place that was shown but which we hadn't been
allowed to see was enigmatically named "The Cryptic Room". It had a
series of standard murals on its walls, showing scenes from the bible
relevant to the masonry mythos. Also there was a strange series of
arches, which regressed into the wall up to a weird half-moon-shaped
window. About this, the postcard said:

"The nine arches in the Cryptic Room lead to a mural so painted that
it can only be seen with black light. It is the only mural in the
world of this type and is one of the many marvels in this unique room
built by the Royal and Select Masters."

After this glaring cosmic clue was dropped on me, we decided it was
time to leave, and we wandered the streets of Alexandria for the rest
of the afternoon, getting lunch in the Old Historic part of the city.
It was during the meal that I began to feel the Dead breathing down
my neck. In the corner of my eye, occupying my peripheral vision, I
saw a gathering of spirits, all men dressed in 18th century Masonic
garb, watching me. The crowd faded after we left, but my inner vision
was now turned on and I began to experience a weird sort of time
slipping. As we walked the avenue that terminates before the huge "G"
hill upon which the tower rests, I was simultaneously perceiving the
Alexandria of 2001 and the city as it was in the late 1700s: A car
racing by suddenly became a horse and carriage; the smell of exhaust
changed into that of manure; the concrete sidewalk became a muddy
roadside path; and so on.

Finally, the last vision of this kind hit me when I looked at a
modern day streetlight. It faded away to be replaced by a man in a
rumpled brown overcoat, wig, and white leggings, standing on the
corner reading a thin newspaper. I studied the paper carefully, a bit
put off by the odd typeface, but caught the date just as the vision
faded: August 10th, 1790. This was intriguing because it is the date
which Washington and his architects designed the Federal Triangle's
celestial alignments around. Then I was returned fully to the present
and we left, riding through DC on our way back to Lyn's pad.

Then later, in the middle of the night, I got up to use the bathroom,
but never made it. As I stepped through the bathroom doorway I was
hit with "that old cosmic flash" and suddenly, I was back inside the
Alexandria temple, standing before the huge bronze statue of GW. As I
contemplated the statue I felt the cold hand of death on my shoulder,
and spun around to face the spirit of Washington himself. He did not
appear as I expected. I had seen him in the Ghost Capitol, but only
from behind; now as I looked up at his face I noticed that it was
hard and unmoving, as if cut from stone. He wore a large
Napoleonic-style hat, and in the huge hat's exact center was the
Illuminati Eye-within-triangle. Out of this Eye poured an aura of
intelligence, and I knew that the consciousness of GW's spirit was in
fact contained within that Eye, as if he had become one with Divine
Providence itself.

A beam of white light shot forth from the Eye, flowing to the left of
the statue towards the stairs which led down into the rooms that
contained the old Egyptian Lodge 22. His huge hand pushed me forward
along the beam, silently guiding me through the corridors and into
the large main gathering hall of the lodge. Within awaited the crowd
of spirits I had seen earlier, all of them gazing intently at me as
they parted and let us pass to the center of the room. In the exact
center lay a cubical glass case. I looked within it and saw the
familiar Masonic artefacts of Bible, compass, and square.

Then the voice of Washington's ghost echoed throughout the place. His
lips did not move as he spoke; rather, the Eye itself seemed to be
the source of the voice.

"The Eye of Providence is always watching you," the voice said, "and
the Dead stand ready to guide and guard you in your quest."

Then the white light poured forth again, hitting the glass case and
illuminating it with a flash. Inside I saw the compass and square
float up as a miniature version of ME appeared beneath them. The
Bible changed at this moment, the words on its cover morphing into my
name. Then a series of hands appeared in the air around my miniature
form. I knew these hands belonged to the seven members of the
founding fathers Congressional Council. Each of them in turn took the
compass and touched it to a different part of my doll-like form,
adding a colour corresponding to their position in the ABRAXAS
spectrum: John Adams turned my feet black; James Madison made my legs
go green; Alexander Hamilton's touch turned my crotch yellow; next,
Ben Franklin's made my stomach area orange; Washington turned my arms
and chest red; then Thomas Jefferson made my shoulders and neck
purple; and finally, the hands of Aaron Burr changed my replica's
head blue. As they performed this alchemical procedure, the book of
my life flew open, stopping at a series of pages corresponding to the
cosmic content that each officer represented.

Then, from behind me Washington pushed my astral form INTO the case;
I experienced a moment of disorientation as I was thrust into the odd
rainbow body, coming out of the daze to find myself now in the Royal
Arch Room. I was in fact standing behind the curtains of the Holy of
Holies; the Ark was on my left, the seven-branched candlestick on my
right. I stepped out from behind the curtain and saw that GW's ghost
was waiting for me, standing before the "Vault of Discovery" mural.

"The individual and collective can no longer be separate," the voice
said, "for the spiritus mundi measures your stone."

I was surprised by his use of the Latin term spirtus mundi- "soul of
the earth"- which was one of CG Jung's favourite code-phrases for the
ABRAXAS intelligence. The huge hands of GW then grabbed my shoulders
and thrust me into the last of the four grottos cut into the walls of
the room. I looked at the display of coin emblems, noting that one of
them was glowing. It was under the heading of Rhode Island lodges,
and as I looked closer I saw on it the image of the double-headed
bird and my name written underneath. The coin then shot off of the
wall and hit me square on the forehead, knocking me back. There was a
flash and suddenly I was in the Knights Templar Chapel.

The first thing I noticed was that the stained glass windows were
different. Instead of scenes from Christ's life, they now depicted
scenes from my own life in chronological order. The first one, behind
the altar, showed the initial meeting I had with my mentor, Ross. He
and I sat on a park bench looking up at the sky; above us hovered the
Eye of Providence. The next window showed my cosmic collaborator,
Greg, and I on either sides of a cauldron; out of the cauldron we
were conjuring the demon Zarathos, who rose up above us and had the
Eye upon his flaming forehead. The third window was from the next
stage in our cosmic adventures, a quaternally divided depiction of
Greg, myself, and our two other cosmic partners Warren and Mike; the
Eye was at the cross point in the middle of the four panels. The last
window showed me kneeling before My Divine Mistress Cleopatra, who
was wearing an Isis headress with the Eye staring out of its sun-disk
crown.

Then I heard a voice from behind me, someone speaking with a thick
French accent, who asked: "Are you a man of honor?"

I turned around and there was Jacques de Molay, Grand Master of the
Kinghts Templar and current Chief Justice of the Ghost Capitol's
Cosmic Supreme Court. He was dressed in full crusader regalia, bright
red cross on his chest, a large sword as big as him strapped across
his back. I did not answer him, so surprised was I to see him instead
of GW. I was even more surprised when De Molay then slapped me across
the face -- hard!

"Your destiny is upon you!" he shouted as I rubbed my astral jaw. "It
is pride that shall determine whether you succeed or fail. Will you
be great or terrible?" He was grabbing me and shaking me at this
point. "You are close enough to success that each step is crucial.
The closer you are, the easier it is to fail! I KNOW!"

He let me go and stepped back, whipping out his sword. On the blade
was written in large red letters: THE PRECIPICE OF BECOMING. Then he
reached into his robes with the other hand and produced the elegant
Islamic scroll that I had seen Peter the Great hand off to Colonel
Burr (see Ghost Capitol recap pt 2).

"Awaken from your ego!" De Molay shouted in my face. "Do you think a
selfish man could understand what is written here?" He shook the
scroll before me. "Do you understand? ARE YOU A MAN OF HONOR?"

"YES!" I finally shouted back at him. With that, he hit me over the
head with the flat of his blade, and I was thrust into another place.
Now I found myself in what I quickly recognized as The Cryptic Room.
Washington's ghost was there, standing before the nine-arched steps
leading up to the weird half-moon mural.

"What is this place?" I asked him as I gazed into the archway. The
mural was in fact a kind of holographic window, in which I could see
various scenes from history playing out.

"When we captured the course of history during the Revolution," the
booming voice of the Eye explained, "we imprisoned it here, within
the Matrix," I was astonished at the use of the term Matrix, knowing
what modern mythos implications it has. In a silent confirming
response, Washington nodded as the voice continued. "From here we
have directed history, waiting for the Sleeper to awaken."

"Who is the Sleeper?" I asked as the scenes of history played out
within the Matrix window."
Columbia," the Eye responded. "Spirit of the New Republic.

"I watched and saw the scenes within the window slow, until they
stopped at one in particular. It showed the top of the Memorial's
tower, and on that slim outer walkway I saw two figures- Washington's
Ghost and my own astral from! As I realized this, the viewpoint of
the window swooped in towards my double, and suddenly I was in the
scene, with GW on the outer balcony overlooking the Potomac River.
The scene was real, that is we were not looking out at the Ghost
Capitol- rather, it was night time view of the actual Washington DC
area. In the skies above DC I saw the three constellations of Bootes,
Virgo, and Leo hanging in the sky. GW's ghost clapped his huge hands
togethr, and the three stars of Arcturus, Spica, and Regulus were
joined by a triangle of white light. At the same time, on the ground
below, the Federal triangle lit up, as lines of fire connected the
White House, Washington Monument, and Capitol Building.

Then the voice Divine Providence shouted out, louder than before,
like a trumpet from the heavens: "THE SLEEPER MUST AWAKEN!"

The triangle of starlight met the triangle of fire at the point above
the White House, just as the yearly August 10th effect illustrates.
There was a huge eruption of colored energies from within the space
marked by the two triangles meeting. Out of that explosion there
arose a gigantic goddess figure, the child of Nature's God, none
other than Columbia, spirit of America. The goddess yawned as She
came to life, and below Her I saw the White House tremble and shake.

She reached out across the skies, Her magnificent hand coming for me.
Just before it reached our position, I was suddenly back, standing in
the doorway of Lyn's bathroom.