After returning from India a few years ago, I suffered through a six-week bout with giardia. It mostly won. During the bout, I sustained myself on a strict diet of Cap’n Crunch and Netflix. The nutritional deficiency created by the former caused me not to remember much of the latter. However, I was able to recall snippets of one show I binged, Battlestar Galactica, as I strolled the grounds at Teotihuacán.
From what I can remember, Battlestar Galactica, or BSG as the cool geeks call it, is about students overtaking their masters. Though in BSG’s case, it’s clones and robots killing their masters. The humans in BSG also polluted their planets to the point of uninhabitable and thus were forced to retreat to space to find other inhabitable planets, all while trying to avoid getting wiped off the face of space by their former pets.
Only 40,000 humans make it. They eventual find Earth, give up all their technology (so they can’t be detected), and start farming. The show eludes that this involuntary devolution is just part of the human existence. We evolve, build robots that kill us, and then must devolve back to subsistence farming. We dumb humans have been doing this for millenniums and millenniums evidentially.
Anthropologists and archeologists aren’t certain where Teotihuacán got its influences — they are certain that Teotihuacán influenced other great mesoamercian civilizations, like the Mayas and Aztecs. Hypotheses and theories are as numerous as the temples in the complex. And I’d like to add one to the mix: The humans from BSG spread about Earth and devolved. Eventually, as they began to re-evolve, they formed the great ancient civilizations. Then they began to build temples to worship their gods, and somewhere, deep in their DNA, they remembered the architectural-stylings of their interplanetary ancestors.
Teotihuacan feels alien, more so than the other ruins I’ve visited in my life. It feels as if the Avenue Of The Dead (the Main Street in the picture above) was subconsciously built as a runway for future, evolved humans to get the heck out of Earth after we’ve polluted the planet and invented the machines that murder us. Now, of course, that’s just my conspiracy-riddled cranium. I’d imagine most of you would appreciate the ingenuity and artistry of Teotihuacán. You’d picture the extravagant temples adorned with untold treasures, or the intelligent and coherent layout of the city, or the hundreds of thousands of beautiful people that lived there over hundreds of years. Or perhaps not. Perhaps, like me, after visiting Teotihuacán, you’d begin questioning the motives of your microwave….
Teotihuacan certainly, regardless of how it was influenced (or not), leaves you feeling that someone, whether via skill (likely) or sci-fi (less likely), built something, that even in this modern era, feels extraterrestrial.
(The view from the top of the Pyramid of the Sun toward the Pyramid of the Moon)