Imagine what could have taken place some 2,000 years ago in Death Valley or perhaps in another remote desert far, far away. How easy it would have been for someone to marvel at the miracle of moving rocks—some of them weighing up to 700 pounds. How easy it would have been to fabricate a holy book to describe and explain “The God of the Rocks.” And with a little persuasion from the “Billy Graham” of the day, how easy it would have been to convince the tribe that there should be human sacrifices on the rocks to propitiate an angry god who had apparently punished them with heat and drought and infertile soil.
Or maybe this spot in the desert becomes a holy site. A great many peoples travel great distances to see this sacred spot where the rocks mysteriously skid around.
A great schism forms over whether the God of the Rocks uses wind or an “earth vibration” to move these rocks. Parking lots are laid out on either side of Rock Valley to accommodate the separate camps.
The most pious are seen closely following the rocks.
And remember muslims can be thought of as worshipping a rock.
When I look at those scenes of crowds of shawled devotees praying to a meteorite at Mecca, I can’t help but marvel at how archaic it seems. Like something out of a time travel sci-fi movie…or a Gary Larson cartoon…
(I know they aren’t actually worshipping the rock. But it sure looks like they are. What would an alien anthropologist, sent to Earth to study us, think when seeing this spectacle?)