There was a time when looking at the Great Pyramid of Giza could fill a person with proper awe — the kind of admiration you should feel when you realize that, five thousand years ago, without cranes, GPS, or a single MBA consultant, human beings dragged two-ton stones across a desert, stacked them with supernatural precision, and made them last longer than most civilizations survive.
But apparently that’s not magical enough for us, because somewhere along the way, we collectively decided that enslaving tens of thousands of workers under a pitiless sun was less believable than the idea that extraterrestrial construction crews came down, vibrated the rocks into place with energy beams, and then promptly forgot to leave a forwarding address.
Welcome to the Great Pyramid Mythology Industrial Complex, where no achievement is allowed to remain merely human and everything must be draped in a heavy velvet curtain of mystical, paranormal, interdimensional twaddle. You can’t just marvel at the logistics. No, you have to believe the pyramids are ancient power plants, cosmic antennas, secret star maps, portals to other dimensions, or — my personal favorite — repositories of “orgone energy,” a term so devoid of meaning it might as well have been coughed up by a horoscope generator.
And if you think for one second that anyone promoting this nonsense has even a passing acquaintance with archaeology, engineering, or basic gravitational physics, you clearly have not yet attended a Paranormal History Symposium at your local Ramada conference center.
It gets better. The angles of the pyramids, we are told, are not the result of trial, error, brutal efficiency, and centuries of building techniques honed through actual labor, but rather “messages encoded by ancient astronauts” to guide us to enlightenment. Never mind that these angles also happen to be incredibly practical for making large piles of stone not immediately collapse under their own weight — no, it must be hyper-advanced alien trigonometry. Because the human brain, apparently, was not capable of stacking rocks intelligently until the History Channel told us otherwise.
And let’s not forget the energy field crowd — the ones who swear that simply standing near the pyramids will “raise your vibration” and “align your chakras with the earth’s magnetic ley lines,” which is a long-winded way of saying they felt faint after spending six hours in the Egyptian sun without drinking any water. But please, tell me again how the Pyramid of Khafre is a cosmic tuning fork vibrating at the frequency of the universe. It’s not dehydration. It’s mystical resonance. Obviously.
There’s a reason we can’t have nice things. Every genuine human achievement must be discredited, slapped with a UFO sticker, sprinkled with New Age fairy dust, and sold back to the gullible in the form of $79.99 “pyramid meditation hats” and quartz-powered scalar wave harmonizers “based on ancient Egyptian technology.” The same technology that, if it ever actually existed, apparently didn’t stop the collapse of the entire civilization anyway, but let’s not let basic historical facts get in the way of a good Etsy listing.
If the builders of Giza could see what’s being peddled in their name today, they wouldn’t curse us. They wouldn’t unleash plagues. They wouldn’t need to. They would simply stand there, stone-faced, watching us wave EMF meters around desert ruins like confused toddlers shaking maracas, and they would know that time, distance, and cultural grandeur were powerless against the relentless, grinding stupidity of magical thinking.
The pyramids don’t need your crystals, your vibrations, or your galactic wisdom downloads. They need you to stop drooling into your tour group headphones long enough to understand that what human hands built, human minds imagined — and what human history earned, you are well on your way to turning into a punchline.