Atlantis was the first worldwide society, as we all know. There hasn’t been one since, even our own, which is fragmented everywhere despite its attempts at internationalism.
Hesiod, an early Classical Greek historian, talked of an oicumene, or world-power (from whence our word “ecumenical”), who ruled over a Golden Age of universal splendor and sun-worship.
Pyramid-builders, who raised their distinctive buildings from the Atlantic isles eastward to Egypt and Sumer, and westward to the Americas, were its movers and shakers.
The pyramids of Mount Kasagi in Japan, on the other hand, are significantly less well-known. They could be remaining evidence of the same Atlantean civilizers who once ruled the earth. It is a powerful work of art, standing around seven feet tall and fourteen feet across at the base. No one knows who carved it, when it was done, or for what reason.
Outside of Nagoya, in north-central Japan, the steep, densely forested, and unexpectedly under-populated region is seldom known to outsiders, even by many Japanese.
A nearly flawlessly symmetrical stone pyramid on the slope of Mount Kasagi is practically hidden among the luxuriant plant life of the forest floor. It was meticulously carved from a single huge block of solid granite weighing an estimated nine tons, with no visible markings on the surface.
Because no similar stone could be found in the area, transporting the hefty block to its perch on a mountain ridge necessitated transportation talents on par with its cutting. The dense foliage surrounding the monument, as well as its location in a valley, indicate that it was never designed for astronomical purposes.
There have been no burials related to this “trigonon,” as Professor Nobuhiro Yoshida, President of the Japan Petroglyph Society, refers to it (Kitakyushu). Although the structure’s existence is almost unknown in the West, he is one of many Japanese researchers who have investigated it. However, local peasant folklore claims a white snake that lives beneath and within the Mount Kasagi pyramid.
Pious locals still leave a gift of eggs as a ceremonial feast for the serpentine genius loci, or “spirit of the place,” as part of a prehistoric rite.
The mythic connection between a sacred snake and egg symbolism does not exist anywhere else in Japan or Asia. However, on the other side of the planet, in the Nile Valley, it is known as Kneph, the snake incarnation of Khnemu.
Because her story defines her as the Lady of the White Serpents and talks of her ancient arrival in Japan from beyond the sea, his snake power (Kneph) looks to be the Egyptian version of Benten, the goddess of Mount Kasagi’s “trigonon.” Stone and bronze images of a pyramid, her insignia, are on display at her Tokyo shrine at Shirorama.
Benten appears to be related to the Egyptian phoenix-like bird of immortality, the Benben, which is also associated with a sacred egg. Benben was the name and personification of the pyramidian, who was wrongly referred to as the Great Pyramid’s “capstone.” A Benten-Benben connection appears to be too close to be coincidental.
When we find that the apex angle of the “trigonon”—76 degrees—is similar to that of the Great Pyramid, the Japanese-Egyptian parallels become much stronger. The enigmatic pyramidian isn’t the only one. Four more identically cut stone monuments are positioned every 100 meters up Mount Kasagi’s ridge, three of them creating a triangular pattern. Their immediate surroundings are unusually rich in prehistoric rock art, showing that the pyramid-builders valued this distant and nearly inaccessible location.
While no more “trigonons” have been discovered, Atami-san does have a scene that is reminiscent of Atlantis. Mount Atami is a huge but extinct volcano located on the northeastern shore of Japan’s Izuhanto, the Izu Peninsula (Shizuoka Prefecture ken, Honshu), facing Sagami-nada (the Gulf of Sagami). It is the ancient source from which the city of Atami, which is built within the crater, gets its name.
Atami-san, almost half-submerged in the sea, has an Atlantean aspect. 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. In the Japanese language, “Atami,” a probable Atlantean linguistic survival, has no meaning.