ALAS, Jason – His wife killed his fiancé & kids; Hera, embodied in the Argo, killed him with a falling beam when he broke his vow of exclusive monogamy.
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ALAS Jason – his wife killed his fiancé & kids; Hera, embodied in the Argo, killed him with a falling beam when he broke his vow of exclusive monogamy*
In a sorrow-drenched scene, Jason sits at the base of the rotting Argo, broken by loss and guilt. Ghostly apparitions of Medea—fierce and furious—and the murdered children and fiancé hover in the background, symbolizing the vengeance and bloodshed that led to this moment. Hera, embodied in the Argo, exacts divine retribution: a beam falls, her presence etched into its grain. The twilight sky mirrors the fall of a once-great hero undone by betrayal and holy wrath.
By Sasha Alex Lessin, Co-author (with Janet Kira Lessin) of ANUNNAKI, EVOLUTION OF THE GODS**
Jason and Medea were heroes throughout Greece. They left Iolocus after she got King Pelias’ daughters to kill him.
Jason and Medea stand triumphant above the city of Iolcus, basking in the people’s adoration. Jason bears the Golden Fleece, a symbol of his epic quest, while Medea holds the dagger of deception—her cunning act of manipulating Pelias’ daughters looming darkly behind their glory. Though the people cheer, the faint shadows of betrayal and coming tragedy already gather in the background.
The couple sailed to Corinth, where King Creon welcomed them. The pair lived quietly in Corinth for ten years and begat three kids there.
Jason and Creon enjoyed each other and became good friends.
In a rare, calm chapter, Jason and Medea live quietly in the sunlit courtyards of Corinth. The couple stands united, older and content, welcomed by King Creon, while their three children play joyfully nearby. Marble columns frame blooming gardens, and the soft hills beyond suggest a world at rest. This moment of domestic peace—before betrayal and tragedy—feels suspended in golden stillness, a lull in the mythic storm.
Their faces close, and Jason and Medea share a warm, peaceful connection—eyes locked, hands joined, a rare moment of harmony. Jason’s silver-streaked hair frames a gentle, confident expression, while Medea glows with quiet devotion and grace. The sunlit courtyard behind them fades softly, placing all focus on the intimacy between them. This is love in its golden hour—poised at the edge of destiny.
Bathed in soft golden light, Jason and Medea share a tender gaze, their hands clasped in a silent vow of love. Around them, their three children laugh and play—one climbing Jason’s shoulder, another beaming up at Medea, the youngest cradled gently in her arms. Laurel crowns frame their heads like faded halos of destiny. It is a moment suspended in joy, radiant, intimate, and heartbreakingly fragile.
Creon, who had no sons, told Jason he’d like him to succeed as Corinth’s King.
In a moment heavy with royal significance, King Creon offers Jason succession to the Corinthian throne. The aging king gestures toward a golden scepter as Jason, caught between humility and ambition, listens intently. Nearby, the peaceful courtyard hints at domestic harmony, while Medea and their children remain in the background—unaware of the decision that will shift their fate. This scene marks the turning point where power, legacy, and loyalty begin to collide.
King Creon’s face radiates a blend of wisdom and solemnity as he gently extends the offer of the throne—his eyes kind, yet heavy with the weight of legacy. Jason, caught in the moment, shows surprise and inner conflict; his expression reflects honor and hesitation. The blurred background of Corinth’s marble courtyard fades behind them, emphasizing their humanity over grandeur. This intimate moment reveals the quiet tension before fate turns.
King Creon’s gaze is steady, wise, and weighted with the hopes of succession. Youthful and noble Jason listens with a look of solemn contemplation and restrained awe. Their faces are lit by the golden Corinthian sun, framed by marble columns just out of focus. In this close-up, you can feel the quiet power of a moment that will ripple through fate.
The King said Jason would have to have a dynastically appropriate Queen, namely Creon’s beautiful daughter Glauce, to do so.
King Creon, commanding yet regal, sits upon his throne, draped in royal blue, extending his hand toward his daughter Glauce. She stands radiant, adorned in gold and silk, the image of dynastic perfection. Jason, caught off to the side, shows the tension between duty and devotion. The marble pillars of Corinth rise around them as witnesses to this pivotal moment, where political ambition begins to fracture love and loyalty.
King Creon’s firm hand gestures toward Glauce as his expression blends command with persuasion. Beside him, Glauce appears poised and luminous—her face is calm, her eyes are focused, and she is wearing intricate golden jewelry that reflects her noble destiny. The tension between duty and desire hangs in the space between them, the marble court behind them blurred, placing all emotional weight on the faces that will shape Jason’s choice—and Medea’s wrath.
In the decade he and Medea lived in Corinth, Jason had watched Glauce grow from a kid into a beautiful young maiden. They had been quietly friending and falling in love anyhow. While Medea raised Jason’s three kids, she saw Jason and Glouce grow close to each other.
In the golden light of a Corinthian courtyard, Jason and Glauce walk side by side, their eyes and gestures filled with warmth and quiet intimacy. Glauce’s blue gown flows like water, echoing her youth and allure. Jason’s expression is gentle, drawn to her. Meanwhile, seated in shadow, Medea watches—one child close by, the others nearby—her face unreadable but heavy with awareness. The columns stand silent witnesses to love blooming and trust-breaking.
Medea’s gaze is sharp, her face caught between heartbreak and fury as she watches Jason and Glauce from afar. One child leans gently against her, but she barely notices—her focus is fixed on the quiet betrayal unfolding in the distance. Her eyes glisten with the pain of isolation, her jaw tight with restraint. In this moment, love begins to curdle into vengeance.
Medea confronted Jason. She reminded him that he’d vowed never to leave her. She told King Creon, too, but the King said he’d wed Glouce to Jason despite Jason’s promise to stay married exclusively to Medea. She said, “You’d better honor your promise; if you don’t, you’ll lose all you hold dear.“
Medea stands like a storm at the heart of Corinth’s marble hall, her arm outstretched in accusation. Her eyes burn with grief and rage as she reminds Jason of his sacred vow. Jason recoils slightly, torn by guilt and ambition. King Creon, unmoved, stands firm beside Glauce, who trembles under the weight of her role. Guards linger in the background, but Medea commands the scene—an oracle of vengeance declaring the price of betrayal.
Medea’s eyes blaze with betrayal, grief, and righteous wrath. Wind whips through her dark hair as she speaks the warning that will echo through myth: “Honor your promise—or lose all you hold dear.” Behind her, Jason’s shocked face fades into a blur, as does Creon’s unwavering posture and Glauce’s unease. The fury and heartbreak etched into Medea’s face make her the center of a storm no throne can withstand.
Creon announced the coming wedding of Jason and Medea. The King knew Medea would react furiously and knew of Medea’s reputation as a powerful sorceress. He considered her a danger to Jason and Glouce, so he declared Medea exiled from Corinth.
In the grandeur of Corinth’s royal hall, King Creon declares the coming wedding of Jason and Glauce—and Medea’s immediate exile. The air crackles with tension. Jason stands torn, Glauce uneasy. Medea, across the chamber, erupts in fury, hands raised as guards close in. Marble pillars and storm-lit archways reflect the growing chaos of power, betrayal, and retribution.
Medea’s face is caught between fire and sorrow—her rage smoldering behind tear-filled eyes. Her hand lifts in defiance as the world she built collapses. In the blurred backdrop, Creon stands resolute beside a hesitant Glauce, while Jason remains silent. In this single expression, the storm of vengeance is born.
Before Medea left, however, she poisoned the silk dress Medea would wear at the wedding and gave the maiden a reconciliatory gift, a beautiful gold tiara.
In a quiet chamber of Corinth, Medea presents Glauce with a silk gown and a golden tiara—gifts masked in reconciliation but laced with vengeance. Glauce smiles, touched by the gesture, unaware of the poison woven into her future. Jason watches uncertainly, believing peace may be possible. The chamber’s elegance and soft light belie the deadly intent behind Medea’s calm.
Medea’s expression is poised, graceful, unreadable, her faint smile hiding a storm. Glauce’s young face glows with gratitude, her hands reaching for the beautiful tiara. Between them passes not only gold and silk, but the first act of Medea’s revenge. In Medea’s narrowed eyes, the promise of ruin glints cold and clear.
When Glouce tried the dress and fitted the tiara on her head, she felt sick, foamed at the mouth, and said the tiara was scorching her head. King Creon held her. She died, and then he, who’d touched her poisoned clothes, killed beside her.
Glauce collapses under the weight of her poisoned silk and burning golden tiara in a chamber meant for celebration. Flames lick at her dress as she cries out in agony, foam at her lips. King Creon rushes to hold her, but the curse spreads to him as he embraces her. His flesh blisters on contact, and both fall together, consumed by the trap wrapped in beauty. The regal surroundings bear witness to Medea’s wrath unleashed.
Glauce writhes in agony on the polished marble floor of Corinth’s palace, the poisoned silk gown aflame and the cursed tiara searing her scalp. Her delicate features twist in pain as foam gathers at her lips. Behind her, King Creon kneels in grief, his hands blistering where they touched her poisoned form. Golden drapery and flame-lit pillars frame the tragedy, as the cursed gifts do their fatal work.
Glauce’s terrified eyes stare upward, her golden tiara searing into her scalp as flames dance at her shoulders. Her mouth is open in a silent scream, tears streaking down her cheeks, and her skin glistens with sweat and poison. A singed hand—Creon’s—reaches toward her, already blistering from the contact. The golden chamber around her glows like an inferno, but her helpless, burning beauty defines this final, cursed moment.
Jason saw their bodies and rushed home to confront Medea. But at home, he saw his children dead on the floor. She fled in a conveyance Greek poets describe as “a dragon-drawn chariot” [the best metaphor Mycenean Greeks could come up with for Anunnaki flying devices].
Inside the dim halls of his Corinthian home, Jason stares in stunned horror at the lifeless bodies of his children. Outside, the sky glows with unnatural light as Medea soars away in a dragon-drawn chariot—part divine, part dreadful. The contrast between the stillness of death and the divine flight above seals Jason’s fate: hero turned broken man.
Inside the dim halls of his Corinthian home, Jason stares in stunned horror at the lifeless bodies of his children. Outside, the sky glows with unnatural light as Medea soars away in a dragon-drawn chariot—part divine, part dreadful. The contrast between the stillness of death and the divine flight above seals Jason’s fate: hero turned broken man.
*Two accounts detail Jason’s death: one in the title describes him killed by a falling beam from the rotting Argo, another suggests he committed suicide out of despair. Both accounts share a theme of his decline from a hero to a lonely, unhappy figure after he betrayed Medea.
In a desolate, vine-choked shipyard, the once-mighty Argo rots into ruin. Beneath its crumbling hull, Jason—aged, broken, and alone—sits in quiet despair. Whether struck by a falling beam or overcome by his own hand, his story ends beneath the ship that once carried his glory. Around him, time has collapsed, leaving only silence, wreckage, and regret.
Jason’s face is weathered and hollow, his eyes reflecting the ghosts of heroism and betrayal. Every line on his face speaks of loss. Whether the final blow is dealt by the gods or by his own despair, his expression is that of a man who knows: he has lost everything worth having.
Jason, wrapped in a tattered cloak, sits alone on the rotting dock where the mighty Argo once stood proud. His eyes are sunken, his body weary. Above him, the ancient ship decays into the sea and sky. In this final, quiet moment, a beam begins to fall—Hera’s judgment, or fate’s collapse. The waves crash gently around him, uncaring. The hero’s journey ends not in battle or triumph, but in silence and sorrow.
In one sweeping scene, the emotional landscape of betrayal, vengeance, and ruin unfolds. Medea stands fierce and unforgiving, shadowed by the memory of her slain children. Jason collapses at the center in raw despair. Glauce and Creon burn in divine agony to the right. Above them all, Medea rises in a dragon-drawn chariot, transcending grief through wrath. In the distance, the ruined Argo watches silently—the cradle and coffin of Jason’s fate.
** ANUNNAKI, EVOLUTION OF THE GODS by Sasha Alex Lessin, Ph.D. (Anthropology, UCLA) & Janet Kira Lessin, (CEO, Aquarian Media) updates the late Zecharia Sitchin’s summary of Sumerian tablets Enki a Scientist from Planet Nibiru dictated in 2016 BCE. Sitchin asked his students, Dr. Sasha and Janet Kira Lessin, to keep Enki’s story of our planet-wide kinship in the public eye.
The Anunnaki, like us, rocketed here 450,000 for gold to send home for gold powder for a sky shield. 200,000 years ago, their miners on Earth mutinied. To replace them, a team of geneticists from the planet Nibiru (Lucifer [Enki], Lilith-[Ninmah] and Thoth [Ningishzidda]*** created us from the Nibiran genome, copper, clay-embedded minerals, copper and genes from Bigfoot’s African ancestor, Homo erectus.
Each character meets the viewer’s gaze in still, powerful intimacy: Jason stands at the center, his noble face etched with grief and lost glory. To his left, Medea’s eyes burn with heartbreak and fury. Glauce looks frightened and delicate to his right, her golden tiara gleaming above tear-filled eyes. King Creon stands tall and solemn beside her. Below Jason, their three children stare forward with eerie calm, innocence frozen in myth. The dark background enhances each emotion, each fate—an eternal gallery of a legend undone by betrayal.
The Anunnaki gave us math, architecture, writing, botany, zoology, geography, kings, taxes, temples, priests, record-keeping, laws, libraries, kilns, wheeled vehicles, paved roads, medicine, festivals, beer, art, music, instruments, dance, and textiles.
But they also imposed hierarchy, misogyny, violence, greed, slavery, debt, and war. In 2024 BCE, they ruined their Mediterranean cities with nuclear bombs and fallout.
Most of them returned to Nibiru, but some stayed and, with their hybrid kin, have kept us pitted against each other in dominator consciousness. Recently, however, Anunnaki Royals returned to Earth, joined Enki, and pledged to usher in the Age of Enki.
Read way more at https://wp.me/p1TVCy-54E
At the center of this vivid, mythic tableau is Jason’s anguished face, lined with sorrow, his eyes burdened by betrayal and loss. To one side, Medea rises with fire in her stare, her children’s spirits faint behind her. To the other, Glauce screams in agony as the cursed tiara burns her, King Creon collapsing beside her. Above them all, Medea soars away in her dragon-drawn chariot, a divine figure of wrath and escape. In the background, the shattered Argo looms—Jason’s once-glorious past now a monument to ruin.
Giant humans, the Anunnaki from Planet Nibiru, bred, blessed, cursed and challenged us.
They came for gold.
.
They grafted Homo erectus genes onto their genome to make us to get dig the gold for them.
.
They gave us
>LITERACY,
>PHYSICS,
>LAWS,
>MATH,
>COSMOLOGY,
>ASTRONOMY,
>BIOLOGY,
>MEDICINE,
>METALLURGY,
>BRICK-MAKING,
>MUSIC,
> INSTRUMENTS,
>ARCHITECTURE,
>GEOLOGY,
>CITIES,
>SCHOOLS,
>CANALS,
>SHIPS,
>CARTOGRAPHY, AND
>CONTRACTS.
.
But they
*imprinted dominator-consciousness on us,
*shortened our lives,
*got us to obsess on status and greed.
They inflicted
*royals,
*religions,
*racism,
* nationalism
*sexism,
*slavery,
*taxes,
*gold lust,
*debt,
*murder,
*war,
*propaganda, and
*ignorance on us.
.
They pledge us an Aquarian Age free from the god-spell, nation-bane, materialist-compulsion, master-slave curse, god-devotee hypnosis, boss-worker hex, and lord-tenant model they imposed.
ANUNNAKI & ANCIENT ANTHROPOLOGY EVIDENCE, REFERENCES, TIMELINE & WHO’S WHO
Evidence https://wp.me/p1TVCy-1zg
References http://wp.me/p1TVCy-2cq
Timeline http://wp.me/p1TVCy-1Km
Who’s Who http://wp.me/p1TVCy-1PE
NEW STUFF: www.enkispeaks.com
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