A few questions about Planet Nibiru

The idea of an extra-solar planet wandering into our solar system in the latter’s juvenile settlement phase, and becoming the 10th planet is incredible. That it was described as having an elliptical circuit of 3,600 human years, with its perigee near the sun, raises the question – how is it not known as a regular visitor in our heavens? That it is depicted on a Sumerian cylinder seal from about 2,500 BC is surely inadequate evidence of its existence. It should have come around about 900 AD, surely!

Mistakes can be made when relying on ‘memories.’ Consider the evidence of cryptomnesia or false memory arising during hypnotherapy, especially when seeking past memories; there have been some terrible social consequences for families erroneously blamed for all matter of happenings, including satanic practices, based on such alleged recovered memories. Further, honest mistakes can be made, eg. Velikovsky apparently erred when he claimed that Venus had been a comet before it became a planet.

Then, there is the destruction of planet Tiamat. Did Marduk/Nibiru/Planet X collide with it physically? Or, did Nibiru destroy Tiamat electromagnetically? If the latter (a more likely event), how could there be any transfer of the so-called DNA? What was the nature and form of this DNA that it could be transferred? Was it just bacteria? While transpermia is becoming an acceptable theory for explaining the origin of life on Earth, could it validate Sitchin’s claim?

The story of Nibiru is tied in, by Sitchin, with the arrival of giants on Earth looking for gold 445,000 years ago, and the subsequent creation by these giants of ‘the Adam’ (note the prefix ‘the’) – a human to become a serf, and to help with the digging for gold.

Sitchin’s efforts to authenticate the Old Testament lead him to rely on Sumerian texts. That is a reasonable approach. However, he seems to quote the Bible at times to corroborate these texts.

In the event, could my genes authenticate my father’s identity correctly?

How do we know what we know?

We all know so much. How reliable are our memories? Almost all my life – until I was about 70 – I carried a particular memory. It was of a child – me – of just 3, throwing a pair of scissors at the departing heels of an uncle (the gentlest of 3 uncles) because he had angered me. The memory had presumably been retained because my uncle was said to limp from time to time as a result of the injury I had caused him.

When I wrote my memoir (The Dance of Destiny), almost everything in my memory bank had been placed on the examination table. This enabled me to recount – within an appropriate context – an event of significance. To be certain that my memories were reliable, and not likely to be contradicted, I spent a long time sorting out experiences of substantial import: great sadness or tragedy, events of joyfulness or personal achievements, and other moments of significant impact. If I could not ‘visualise’ the event, occasion or experience, I asked myself whether my memory had been based on what I had been told.

Lo and behold, there were a few such ‘memories.’ I could not visualise in my memory throwing a pair of scissors (or anything else) at anyone, ever. I will not lie to myself or to anyone else – blame my mother! I subsequently wondered whether my mother had told me that story to constrain a bourgeoning hot temper. She must have; and it worked.

Guilt had led to emotional control throughout my life; except once when I nearly killed another person. That I do know.