When, in the movie, the yellow submarine first begins to travel in time, it enters what the Sergeant says is the “Sea of Science.” We then see the Yellow Submarine from outside, swimming like a ghastly cowfish in the blue waters, and the scene becomes pixilated into a set of square tiles. The yellow tiles representing the submarine then transform, pausing for several seconds in the form of a yellow Christian cross before it becomes a single golden box.
The picture is not exactly identical, but it is close enough to be instantly recognizable to anybody who has ever looked at Aleister Crowley’s Thoth tarot deck before. It’s the image on the “Science” card, the Six of Swords, which also has a yellow Christian cross made out of squares on it. It’s an unfolded hypercube, a “tesseract.” It’s a multidimensional object. It’s use in this movie is to represent how the yellow submarine can act as a time machine by traveling through hyperspace.
There are many layers of symbolism here, and I won’t go through all of them here. But it’s not a coincidence that Sergeant Pepper has the appearance of an officer in the British navy, and as “LSD” or “Landing Ship Dock” is the British Navy’s term for a type of amphibious warfare ship, of which a submarine would be considered a subtype. Among these, any type that can contains a helipad is called an “LHD.” These just happen to be the initials of the “Large Hadron Collider,” the particle accelerator at CERN in Switzerland, purportedly capable of bending space and time.
1966—the year the “Yellow Submarine” song was released, and the year that the Process Church did their world-ending rituals at Xtul in Mexico—was declared by Anton LaVey to be “Year 1 Anno Satanis.” He was starting the calendar over on the day that his church was founded, April 30, in order to upstage Jesus. This fact seems to be acknowledged when Roman Castevet shouts “to Year One!” at the New Year’s Eve party in Rosemary’s Baby, which was set in 1965/1966.
I believe that this new aeon of time that people like Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey were anticipating was a new order of hierarchy for the “planetary archons,” or gods. This concept is represented in the Astrum Argentum order’s ritual called “the Equinox of the Gods.” In this rite, the planetary archons play musical chairs, and Chronos/Saturn, who is equated in the ritual with Jesus Christ, is forced to move over a seat so that Horus can rule from the throne over the “New Aeon.” I think the same idea may be alluded to when, at the Mad Hatter’s tea party, instead of getting clean dishes from the cupboard, or washing the ones they have out, each individual at the table is made to move one seat down to the next place setting whenever somebody needs to use a clean cup.
But these “aeons” that we speak of are really the Greek Gnostic concept of them: as living gods that embody their own universes within them. Being so, they also contain within them their own epochs of time. Thus, each “planet,” in the ancient view, was a universe like our own, with its own timeline. Yet they interacted with each other on a larger, transcendental timeline, and they had a hierarchy of positions among them. So when they changed those positions, a new “aeon” or “age” would be ascendant, while the others became submerged beneath what was now the present reality in the cosmic ocean. This is how such things as “the Age of Atlantis” can be viewed as another universe that once existed, and still exists on some level, but can still be seen as part of an aeon that is no longer in the ruling position.