The Planetary Rebellion

67:5.1Great con­fu­sion reigned in Dala­ma­tia and there­about for al­most fifty years af­ter the in­sti­ga­tion of re­bel­lion. The com­plete and rad­i­cal re­or­ga­ni­za­tion of the whole world was at­tempted; rev­o­lu­tion dis­placed evo­lu­tion as the pol­icy of cul­tural ad­vance­ment and racial im­prove­ment. Among the su­pe­rior and par­tially trained so­journ­ers in and near Dala­ma­tia there ap­peared a sud­den ad­vance­ment in cul­tural sta­tus, but when these new and rad­i­cal meth­ods were at­tempted on the out­ly­ing peo­ples, in­de­scrib­able con­fu­sion and racial pan­de­mo­nium was the im­me­di­ate re­sult. Lib­erty was quickly trans­lated into li­cense by the half-evolved prim­i­tive men of those days.

67:5.2Very soon af­ter the re­bel­lion the en­tire staff of sedi­tion were en­gaged in en­er­getic de­fense of the city against the hordes of semi­sav­ages who be­sieged its walls as a re­sult of the doc­trines of lib­erty which had been pre­ma­turely taught them. And years be­fore the beau­ti­ful head­quar­ters went down be­neath the south­ern waves, the mis­led and mis­taught tribes of the Dala­ma­tia hin­ter­land had al­ready swept down in semi­sav­age as­sault on the splen­did city, driv­ing the se­ces­sion staff and their as­so­ciates north­ward.

67:5.3The Cali­gas­tia scheme for the im­me­di­ate re­con­struc­tion of hu­man so­ci­ety in ac­cor­dance with his ideas of in­di­vid­ual free­dom and group lib­er­ties, proved a swift and more or less com­plete fail­ure. So­ci­ety quickly sank back to its old bi­o­logic level, and the for­ward strug­gle be­gan all over, start­ing not very far in ad­vance of where it was at the be­gin­ning of the Cali­gas­tia regime, this up­heaval hav­ing left the world in con­fu­sion worse con­founded.

67:5.4One hun­dred and sixty-two years af­ter the re­bel­lion a tidal wave swept up over Dala­ma­tia, and the plan­e­tary head­quar­ters sank be­neath the wa­ters of the sea, and this land did not again emerge un­til al­most ev­ery ves­tige of the no­ble cul­ture of those splen­did ages had been oblit­er­ated.

67:5.5When the first cap­i­tal of the world was en­gulfed, it har­bored only the low­est types of the San­gik races of Uran­tia, rene­gades who had al­ready con­verted the Fa­ther’s tem­ple into a shrine ded­i­cated to Nog, the false god of light and fire.