Georgia Guidestones

 

By: Geavonna Starr

Everyone loves a good conspiracy theory. Sometimes, they occur in places where we least suspect- such as Elberton, Georgia- the granite capital of the world.

I couldn’t have written it better if I wanted to. It’s two days before the official start of Autumn, yet it feels like it’s already here. The sky is nearly cloudless and the wind is unseasonably cool for what is typical of September in Georgia.

At first, no one seems to be getting out. Instead, we sit in a line as if it’s a drive-in theatre as if the five-vertical slabs of granite will eventually perform for us in some supernatural way. Anyone who does leave their vehicle is toting a Nikon, something I forgot. Perhaps the cracks in my shattered iPhone camera will add to the vibe.

It’s a surprisingly popular tourist spot. It makes me feel not-so-crazy for making the four-hour drive. Personally, it’s been a long time coming. This lesser-known Georgia Stonehenge has been on my travel bucket list for nearly seven years. Still, the monument looks eerily out of place as if it should be sitting in a museum courtyard instead of what was once a cow pasture.
The commandments–that’s what I would link them to–pull no punches; the inscription begins with the most radical statements first, moving fluidly from controversy to poetry. The guidelines read as follows:
1. Maintain humanity under 500,000,000 in perpetual balance with nature.
2. Guide reproduction wisely — improving fitness and diversity.
3. Unite humanity with a living new language.
4. Rule passion — faith — tradition — and all things with tempered reason.
5. Protect people and nations with fair laws and just courts.
6. Let all nations rule internally resolving external disputes in a world court.
7. Avoid petty laws and useless officials.
8. Balance personal rights with social duties.
9. Prize truth — beauty — love — seeking harmony with the infinite.
10. Be not a cancer on the Earth — Leave room for nature — Leave room for nature.

The monument is relatively recent–commissioned in 1980 by a man operating under the pseudonym R.C. Christian. “Pseudonym” is in fact the correct spelling, at least that’s how the explanatory tablet on the ground west of the monument reads. A time capsule sits at a distance six-feet-below the tablet, the “open on” date left intentionally blank. I hope it isn’t a coffin.
It’s an odd feeling of being unsure what it is you’re looking at. Everyone is surprisingly nonchalant about posing in front of what could potentially be a Nazi monument, calling for eugenics and population control. Objectively, the monument was designed during the Cold War, when humanity under five hundred million may have been a plausible thought in terms of nuclear warfare.

Each slab is double-sided, translating the guidelines in English, Spanish, Hindi, Swahili, Hebrew, Mandarin, Arabic, and Russian. If you aren’t fluent in at least one of eight languages, the rocks themselves aren’t much to look at. It’s all very arbitrary- had it been me, I would have included French, Nigerian, or Portuguese. I suppose I’m about forty years too late.

Perhaps I was envisioning a religious gathering of some kind of scriptural reading or cultic dance by robed figures. Instead, a Spanish family arrives beside me. They rotate around it to read in their mother tongue. A Jewish family takes turns blowing a Shofar towards the Hebrew side.
The rocks have astronomical features that I’m not smart enough to understand as I look at them, namely serving as a clock, a compass, and a calendar.

The granite shows little signs of the previous series of vandalisms, a small marker scribbling reads “F*** the New World Order.” It stands to reason, that in such a conservative area, the monument isn’t well-received by everyone. Despite being erected by a private group, the site is owned by the county. If I wasn’t so introverted, I would’ve taken the time to ask the locals for their opinion or any folklore about who may have placed it. Some maintain that the site construction was an inside job to attract tourism and promote the local granite industry.

Just as I begin to leave, I realize that, for the first time in over an hour, I am finally alone. I would come here every day just to meditate on the simplistic beauty of the surrounding nature. My serene and solitary moment lasts only a few minutes before another truck arrives and a father and daughter step out together. I climb back into my car to give them privacy–delaying the start of my engine to hear the words they speak to each other.

She asks him to read to her, and he does. His voice is clear, kind, and pleasing to the ear. He reads top to bottom, leaving me with the words echoing in my ear. Leave room for nature. Sounds reasonable.