monsters_of_our_minds

Terrifying! I can't even look at that! Monsters - Of Our Minds The reverence for one's predecessors in the sublime science of history is tempered at times by recognition of their very real limitations. It cannot be doubted that we stand upon the shoulders of giants, but those shoulders are often feet of clay. It is one thing to exaggerate the number of participants in a battle; in the ancient world, most counting systems went from one to two to three to five million. It was the way our ancestors compensated for not having nice things. But it is another thing entirely to fabricate the existence of a ludicrous supernatural creature and then posit its importance in the course of real human events. Which historians could possibly be guilty of such transparent silliness. Some of the best, as you'll see. A film documentary describes the 1953 invasion of New York City by giant mountain ants. Giant Mountain Ants The Greek historian Herodotus is widely known today as the Father of History. This is accurate, and it is an indication of his canny self-promotion that he thought to name his daughter History. While many of his insights have been confirmed by subsequent archaeology, ethnography, and ouija board sessions, no one is willing to make factual claims on behalf of the "giant mountain ants" that he said chased and devoured full-grown camels in what is now the Middle East. Werewolves In an obscure passage of The Annals, the Roman historian Tacitus relates a tale of two soldiers, one of whom turns into a wolf and devours human flesh whenever he has to wait long periods of time at the deli. Embarrassed partisans of the historian have tried to play this story off as a metaphor or allegory, but that does not explain Tacitus' rather straightforward note that "this totally happened to my cousin's friend, Karl." Spacemen Americans may never fulfill their national dream of reaching orbit outside the earth's atmosphere, but that has not stopped some contemporary fabulists from suggesting otherwise. While Tacitus and Herodotus can be excused their fabrications by virtue of being foreign, regular person and "historian" David Harland has written an entire book entitled "Exploring the Moon: The Apollo Expeditions," and shows the incredible temerity of passing it off as genuine history. The invocation of the mythical Greek god is all one needs to know to form an accurate judgement of this work's "value." The book is almost worth reading, though, for the unintentionally comic touches, like the name Harland gives to one of his fanciful creatures: "Neil Armstrong" is hardly as catchy a name as, say, the Abominable Snowman. Bread-burners Imagine a horrifying scenario: you come down to your breakfast nook one morning to spread healthy butter on a nice piece of white bread. Then, a clattering, armored creature leaps across your counter and sucks the bread into its slot-like mouth. Instead of eating it, though, this monstrosity uses internal heat to singe the bread - and then vomits it right back in your face! Such creations belong, thankfully, to the realm of science fiction, but a number of historians have - to their undying discredit - attempted to frighten audiences with asides about these mysterious "toasteds." An illustration of what is likely a bat. No human being has ever laid eyes on a real, live bat. Bats It was the early 20th century when future U.S. Sen. Hiram Bingham III (C-Conn.) discovered the ruins of the ancient Incan settlement of Macchu Picchu. But Bingham's accomplishments for archaeology and soured relations between the U.S. and Peru vastly overshadow his contribution to history. In his memoir of the discovery, Bingham mischievously passes on ludicrous tales by illiterate natives about small furry mammals that fly and can navigate by some kind of internal sonar, because they are "blind." Needless to say, no one outside of fairy tales had ever heard such ludicrous nonsense before, but Bingham's stature and importance lent weight to his fabulism, and even today there are people who will warn you before going into caves or vans that "bats" may lurk within, waiting to swoop down and eat your fruit (if you are holding fruit). Italians Leprechauns. Satyrs. Elves. Space-men. What do they have in common? They are all make-believe, of course, a characteristic which they share with Italians. But unlike their compatriots in the land of never-never, Italians have benefited from a prolific industry of historical fabulists and a gullible public eager to swallow up far-fetched tales of accordions, lemon trees, "spagetty," and raven-haired beauties sporting wild, untamed mustaches. The other day when I was at Borders Bookstore, I saw a whole section of "Italian history" and had to roll my eyes. For this, I suppose we have to thank Mr. Peter Jackson and his fanciful trilogy of films that brought the enchanted land of Italy to the big screen. Unfortunately, all of Jackson's Hollywood magic cannot add one iota of historic credibility to this enduring myth.