Most people aren’t aware of its existence, but there’s a monument in North Georgia that’s curious, secretive, baling, puzzling and mystical, all at the same time.
It’s called the Georgia Guidestones, and is located near Elberton, a town of 4,500 people about 90 miles northeast of Atlanta. Basically, it’s a huge granite structure that has been called the “American Stonehenge” and is inscribed with a message that has been nicknamed the “Illuminati 10 Commandments.”
The Guidestones’ four-piece, eight-sided, 19-foot tall paddlewheel design features six granite slabs – four main pieces arranged around a center piece and a large capstone. It consists of 951 cubic feet of Pyramid Blue granite weighing more than 237,000 pounds, and was publicly unveiled in March 1980.
The Guidestones’ 10 “guidelines” deal with four main concepts: Authority and governance, population control, “spirituality” and man’s relationship to nature and the environment. They are etched into the main pieces’ panels (or faces) in eight languages: English, Spanish, Swahili, Hindi, Hebrew, Arabic, Chinese and Russian.
The message in English:
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.
On each side of the capstone, the phrase “Let these be Guidestones to an age of reason” is carved in four ancient languages: Babylonian Cuneiform, Sanskrit, Classical Greek and Egyptian (using hieroglyphics). A ground marker adjacent to the monument features information about it and allegedly covers a time capsule placed by the anonymous group that funded it.
Like Stonehenge, the Georgia Guidestones is even equipped with intriguing astronomical features.
Its four main granite slabs are aligned with the celestial poles, while the center stone features an eye-level hole oriented with the North Star and a slit aligned with the sun’s solstices and equinoxes. The capstone also has a hole that allows a sunbeam to mark noontime every day of the year.
The saga of the Guidestones began in June 1979 when a well-dressed, articulate man showed up at the Elberton Granite Finishing Co., going by the fictitious name, R.C. Christian. The man said he represented a group of out-of-state “loyal Americans” who “believe in God” and wished to remain unnamed.
He also said they wanted a monument built and placed in the area to convey a message to all of mankind.
Elberton bills itself as the “granite capital of the world” and, in fact, produces more granite products than any other city in the world. Christian said he and his cohorts chose that area for their project because of the top-notch quality of the area’s granite and the relatively mild climate.
Money was apparently no object, as Christian hooked up with a local banker to oversee the funding and a location for the monument was chosen in a pasture at the highest point in Elbert County.
While nobody knows who the man actually was, the initials “R.C.” have been linked to a connection with the Rosicrucians, a secretive philosophical society believed to have been founded in late medieval Germany based on a doctrine built upon “esoteric truths of the ancient past” that had been “concealed from the average man” and provided “insight into nature, the physical universe and the spiritual realm.” The man’s initials have even been said to stand for “Rosy Cross,” which is the emblem of the Rosicrucians.
Behind the layers of riddles and questions, it all adds up to something strangely intriguing. But examining the Guidestones’ message leads to some chilling – and even dark – places.
Obviously, the first “guideline” is problematic from the get-go. If only 500 million people are to live, then billions must die – about 7 billion based on the present population of planet Earth.
A friend of mine pointed out how interesting it is that there would be a major uproar if a Confederate battle flag flew over a government building or facility, but here’s a monument calling for the eradication of about 14-of-15 human beings and nobody seems to care. I told him I had a suggestion for the people behind the monolith: Lead by example – you go first.
Then there’s the seemingly contradictory component that R.C. Christian and his group were purportedly Christian and yet backed the idea of one language for all of humanity. So, like, we’re supposed to go back to the Tower of Babel? Even a half-aware Christian should know how that went over with God like a lead balloon.
And I’d like to know who defines “tempered reason” in ruling “all things.” Sounds like maybe the clandestine group wanted to provide the definition, and that sounds a bit too much like dictatorship.
And a world court? Right – like that’s going to fly without a few objections.
And who oversees the “world court?” I guess that’s R.C.’s bunch again?
The way I see it, these “guidelines” steer things away from anything truly godly and toward global submission, and the only way they could ever be implemented would be forcibly. Some say that’s the idea, and the Guidestones are there as a precursor.
Wouldn’t that be typical? The truth right under our noses and we don’t notice or pay attention. Then again, this might just be an example of a group of rich people promoting their viewpoints, with no real evil intention.
Either way, it’s still kind of eerie. And it shines plenty of light on the whole “new world order” thing and the way God is viewed as an object to be manipulated rather than a sovereign, all-encompassing Creator.
Anyway, that sort of scratches the surface of the story of the Georgia Guidestones. Look it up online and you can peruse lots of information about it on several websites.
Regardless of what this cryptic monolith truly represents, my take is it’s at least something to be wary of.
Doug Davison is a writer, photographer and newsroom assistant for the Houston Herald. His columns are posted online at www.houstonherald.com. Email: email@example.com.