Stonehenge. It may be that the name conjures up images of a circle of large stones and the strange humans known as Druids chanting and dancing around fires into the wee hours of the morning. But is it accurate? What do we really know about that stone monument and the people who built it?
Recently an expedition of archaeologists funded by the University of Bristol in the U.K. discovered a cave in Alveston. Living in the cave among bones and artifacts dating back to thousands of years before the Roman conquest of Britain, was an ancient man. He claimed to be more than 6,000 years old. Upon a cursory medical examination and with his Social Security Account Number of 000-00-0001, this seemed to be the case.
Because of my extensive background interviewing people in stage 3 comas, I was approached to conduct an interview with Zol’Khuxon of the Sarin Tur, or Ralph as he preferred to be called. Last Tuesday, I met with him in his Alveston cave. He offered me a drink of some type of gray liquid that I declined.
My first question, obviously, was how he managed to survive for so long in good health, both physically and mentally. “No processed foods and avoiding any news about the Kardashians” was his answer. Since very little is known about his people, I asked if he could tell me something about Druid history. Pouring himself a stone cup of the gray liquid, he nodded and sat on a rock across from me.
I began by asking if it was true that Stonehenge was constructed by a people who had consumed too much high fructose corn syrup. He shook his head “no”and told me that even before the Druids or the Big Mac, an ancient race of people discovered a worldwide energy grid and assigned certain focal points across the globe as hubs for electromagnetic energy. The catalyst to one day consolidate and unleash the energy was located at the Stonehenge site. Activation of a relic called the Antikythera Mechanism at this catalyst site would trigger a terraforming of the earth, effectively destroying all forms of life, with the exception of primordial bacteria and Cher.
I mentioned to Ralph that his history lesson was straining credibility, particularly since an ancient race that could potentially terraform the globe couldn’t even invent buffalo chicken wings. He smiled, then chuckled. Puzzled, I looked to him for an explanation. “Just a joke I thought of,” he said. “What did the Mage say to the Moonkin when he refused to duel?” I shrugged. “You’re just a big chicken!” he said, and doubled over with laughter. Druid humor escapes me.
His laughing fit over I wanted to get back to the subject, so I asked how the large stones, some as long as 30 feet and weighing 25 tons on average, were mined 20 miles away in Marlborough Downs and transported to the site. A serious expression crossed his face. He said he would tell me what he knew of the secret if I promised that he would never have to be a guest on The View. I agreed; he nodded and began.
Ralph’s said an ancient race of swine possessed the Antikythera Mechanism and, in an effort to centralize the massive electromagnetic energy, had erected two previous henges: Strawhenge and Stickhenge. Both had been easily blown apart by marauding, halitosis-afflicted werewolves. The swine decided it would be futile to rebuild a third time using rutabagas, so they scrapped the Mechanism and sought out new lands where they eventually evolved into lawyers.
Ralph and some fellow Druid tribesmen, anxious to get away from their wives one night, made up the excuse that they were going out to dance naked around a fire and recite chants from the Necronomicon. Instead, they went drinking.
“After a few horns of goat’s milk vodka we decided it would be fun to rebuild the henge of the ancient swine race,” he said.
“Goat’s milk vodka will do that to you,” I replied.
He said this time it would be out of stone in case the marauding wolves ever passed through the area again looking for a good time.
The rest of that night was lost to drunken stupor and it wasn’t even St. Patrick’s Day. When they woke up in the grass the next morning, they had no idea how they cut the massive stones, transported them or put them in place. Curiously, though, they all had double hernias.
I had a sense that it was time to conclude the interview. I thanked Zol’Khuxon “Ralph” of the Sarin Tur for his time. Before leaving, he added one last footnote to his tale. When he went back to Stonehenge later in the day to look for his drinking horn, on one of the huge stones he saw inscribed “Kilroy was here.”
As I exited the cave I asked what he would do now that mankind had become aware of his existence. “I’m going to Disneyworld,” he replied.