Scientists and archaeologists have no clue how the ancients were able to excavate, let alone move such huge stones on such rough and uneven terrain. They cannot be moved by any combination of modern equipment today. Whole books have been written on speculation as to how they moved these massive stones. Many writers conclude that aliens must have visited earth and done this with technology about which we know nothing! Ahhhh?...there is a much simpler solution...Ancient man, especially pre-flood, and for a few hundred years post-flood, lived lots longer and accumulated lots more knowledge than we have today! No "Aliens” required!
Kent HovindRelated topics
able ancient clue combination done earth equipment excavate few hundred knowledge longer man massive modern move nothing rough simpler solution speculation technology write today lots years ancients stones terrainRelated quotes
Will we solve the crises of next hundred years? asked Krulwich. "Yes, if we are honest and smart,” said Wilson. "The real problem of humanity is the following: we have paleolithic emotions; medieval institutions; and god-like technology. And it is terrifically dangerous, and it is now approaching a point of crisis overall.” Until we understand ourselves, concluded the Pulitzer-prize winning author of On Human Nature, "until we answer those huge questions of philosophy that the philosophers abandoned a couple of generations ago-Where do we come from? Who are we? Where are we going?-rationally,” we're on very thin ground.
E. O. Wilson
"Jón Hreggviðsson said that he himself never read except when he was forced to do so, though he had learned from his mother all the necessary sagas, ballads, and old genealogies, and he claimed to be descended from Haraldur Hilditönn, the Danish king, on his father's side. He said that he would never forget such excellent ancients as Gunnar of Hlíðarendi, King Pontus, and Örvar-Oddur, who were twelve ells high and could have lived to be three hundred years old if they hadn't run into any trouble, and that if he had such a book he would send it immediately for free to the king and his counts, to prove to them that there had indeed once been real men in Iceland.
Halldór Laxness
By the painful light of the factory's huge electric lamps
I write in a fever.
I write gnashing my teeth, rabid for the beauty of all this,
For this beauty completely unknown to the ancients.O wheels, O gears, eternal r-r-r-r-r-r-r!
Bridled convulsiveness of raging mechanisms!
Raging in me and outside me,
Through all my dissected nerves,
Through all the papillae of everything I feel with!
My lips are parched, O great modern noises,
From hearing you at too close a range,
And my head burns with the desire to proclaim you
In an explosive song telling my every sensation,
An explosiveness contemporaneous with you, O machines!
Fernando Pessoa
Much of this he strove to express to Ruth, and shocked her and made it clear that more remodelling was necessary. Hers was that common insularity of mind that makes human creatures believe that their color, creed, and politics are best and right and that other human creatures scattered over the world are less fortunately placed than they. It was the same insularity of mind that made the ancient Jew thank God he was not born a woman, and sent the modern missionary god-substituting to the ends of the earth; and it made Ruth desire to shape this man from other crannies of life into the likeness of the men who lived in her particular cranny of life.
Jack London
... For ancient heroes the exhaustive method is possible: all that can be known of them is contained in a few short passages of Greek and Latin, and it is quite possible to say whatever can be said about every one of these; the result would not be unreasonably bulky, though it might be dull. But in the case of men who have lived in the thick of the crowded modern world, no such course is admissible; overmuch may be said, and we must choose what we will say. Biographers, however, are rarely bold enough to adopt the selective method consistently. They have, we suspect, the fear of the critics before their eyes.
Walter Bagehot
