Understanding Zeitgeist means understanding its creator, Peter Joseph Merola (credited as Peter Joseph), a young musician, artist, and freelance film editor living in New York City, at last account. I’ve found no reference to any educational or professional experience pertaining to any of the subjects covered in the movie. He moved to New York in order to attend art school. That appears to be the extent of his qualifications to teach history and political science, but of course it doesn’t make him wrong. It may, however, explain why many of his factual claims contradict what anyone can learn from any textbook on religious history or political science.
Joseph made a second film, Zeitgeist: Addendum which offers much better insight into the man and his motivations for creating Zeitgeist. He’s basically a postmodern utopian, who spends most of his effort speaking out against money-based economics. He advocates the rejection of government, profit, banking, and civil infrastructure: basically, the “establishment”. Once you understand where he’s coming from, it makes it a lot easier to understand why he made Zeitgeist and tried so hard to point out the corruption and evils of the establishment. The problem is that he simply made up a bunch of crap to drive his point, and that’s where he crossed the line between philosophical advocacy and unethical propaganda.
Much of what makes Zeitgeist popular is that the sustainable utopia he describes is very compelling. It’s probably not very realistic, but it’s alluring at an organic level. Mistrust of the establishment has been a popular theme ever since a caveman first raised a club, so the two combine to make the message of Zeitgeist appealing, at some level, to nearly everyone. For example, in his sequel, Joseph profiles futurist Jacque Fresco who envisions what he calls a “resource-based economy”, a world without money where the Earth’s natural resources are freely available to all and responsibly managed through public virtue and high technology. This is a fine idea, and while its practicality and workability can certainly be debated, it’s perfectly valid as a philosophy. And so, it was from this utopian perspective that the young idealist Peter Joseph Merola set out to first convince us that our current system is fundamentally broken.
He began in the first of Zeitgeist’s three chapters with an assault on Christianity. The film draws many parallels between the Nativity story and pagan sun worship and astrology, suggesting that their origins are all the same. This is followed by an impressive set of similarities between the life of Jesus and the life of Horus, the Egyptian god — similarities far too extensive to be simple coincidences. And then, taking key points from the life of Jesus (the virgin birth, December 25th, a resurrection after three days, and so on), we find that the same elements are found in the stories of many other gods from diverse cultures, namely the Phrygian Attis, the Indian Krishna, the Greek Dionysus, and the Persian Mithra. Joseph’s presentation is compelling, and constitutes a convincing argument that Christianity is just one of many branches of mythology stemming from the same ancient stories going all the way back to prehistoric sun worship.
Where this compelling presentation breaks down is, well, almost everywhere. The majority of Joseph’s assertions are flagrantly wrong, as if he had begun with a conclusion, and worked backwards making up facts that would get him there. He gave no sources, but it turns out that most of these same claims about other gods having the same details as the Jesus stories come from a 1999 book called The Christ Conspiracy: The Greatest Story Ever Sold. Christian scholars in particular have been highly critical of Joseph’s unresearched and wrong assertions, which is understandable given that they are probably the best authorities on religious histories.
Part II of the movie depicts the 9/11 attacks as having been perpetrated by the American government, essentially repeating the same basic charges found throughout the 9/11 “truth” community. These charges fall into two basic categories: innuendo and misinformation. Innuendo like the Bushes knew the bin Ladens, the alleged hijackers have since been found to be alive and well, the inexperienced pilot couldn’t have hit the building; and misinformation like straw man arguments mis-characterizing what we all watched that day. These, and many other tactics claimed by the “truthers” to be evidence that the attack was an inside job, have been thoroughly addressed elsewhere and I’m not going to go into them here. In short, searching for alternative possible motivations, and finding and making extraneous connections between various people and events, does not prove or serve as evidence of anything. Raising the specter of doubts or alternate possibilities is very effective in distracting people away from the facts, as we saw so dramatically in O. J. Simpson’s murder acquittal, and as we see throughout the 9/11 “truth” movement.
According to a New York Times interview with Peter Joseph Merola in which he was asked about the 9/11 conspiracy claims made in Zeitgeist, he says he has since “moved away from” these beliefs. While it’s great that he was willing to come out publicly and say that he’s abandoned one line of irrational thinking, to me it says more that he leaves it in the movie anyway (Zeitgeist has gone through a number of revisions, and he’s had ample opportunity to edit out sections he no longer believes). This is only speculation on my part, of course, but I’d guess he leaves it in because it so dramatically illustrates the evils of the establishment, which is a pillar of his philosophy. If true, it would show that the content of Joseph’s films are driven more by ideology than by fact.
That this is Joseph’s ideology is most impactfully illustrated in part III of Zeitgeist. This asserts the existence of what Joseph believes is a worldwide conspiracy of international bankers, who are directly responsible for causing all wars in the past century as a way to earn profits. From his student art studio, Joseph purports to have uncovered plans, known only to a select few of these hypothesized bankers, to combine the currencies of Canada, the United States, and Mexico into a single denomination called the amero, as a next step toward an eventual one world government. In fact, the amero was proposed in a couple of books: in 1999 by Canadian economist Herb Grubel in The Case for the Amero, and in 2001 by political science professor Robert Pastor in Toward a North American Community. The number of economists not proposing an amero is much larger. This chapter of Zeitgeist goes into great detail, most annoyingly in the way it quote-mines everyone from Thomas Jefferson to Carl Sagan (from letters both real and counterfeit) to suggest that leaders in government and science have always known about this. People knowledgeable in this subject have gone through Zeitgeist point-by-point and refuted each and every one of its dishonest claims, none more effectively than Edward Winston on his Conspiracy Science web site, which I highly recommend if you want to discuss any of the nitty gritty details in any section of Zeitgeist.
I can empathize with Peter Joseph Merola on one level. When I first started the Skeptoid podcast, I didn’t really yet know what it was going to be about or where it was going to lead. I didn’t keep references either. Having done it a few years, I now have my focus dialed in much better. I can see the same evolution from the conspiracy theories in the original Zeitgeist film to the utopian and philosophical topics Joseph now talks about. He described Zeitgeist’s inception as a personal project and a “public awareness expression”, a context in which it was unnecessary to keep references or even to be historically accurate. I suspect that if he’d known where he was going to be today, he wouldn’t have made Zeitgeist, and would have instead gone straight to the sequel which almost completely omits the conspiracy theories and untrue history.
If he had, the Zeitgeist franchise would probably not be nearly so successful. Nothing commands attention and feeds our native desire for power like a good conspiracy theory. If you know about the conspiracy, you’re in on the secret information, and you are more powerful than the conspirators. For better or for worse, we all have a deep craving to have the upper hand. This is perhaps the main reason for the unending popularity of Zeitgeist, Loose Change, Alex Jones, Richard Hoagland, and other conspiracy theory machines. It also explains the passion shown by those who defend them: All t
hat matters is “being the one who knows more than you,” and the facts are a distant second.
REFERENCES & FURTHER READING
Callahan, T. “The Greatest Story Ever Garbled.” Skeptic. The Skeptics Society, 25 Feb. 2009. Web. 2 Mar. 2010.
Dunbar, D., Reagan, B. Debunking 9/11 Myths: Why Conspiracy Theories Can’t Stand Up to the Facts. New York: Hearst Books, 2006.
Feuer, A. “They’ve Seen the Future and Dislike the Present.” New York Times. 16 Mar. 2009, N/A: A24.
Lippard, J. “Zeitgeist: The Movie.” The Lippard Blog. Jim Lippard, 11 Jun. 2008. Web. 2 Mar. 2010.
Meigs, J. “Debunking the 9/11 Myths: Special Report.” Popular Mechanics, March 2005 Issue. 1 Mar. 2005, Year 103, Number 3.
Pastor, Robert A. Toward a North American Community: Lessons from the Old World for the New. Washington: Institute for International Economics, 2001. 111-115.
Siegel, Jon. “Income Tax: Voluntary or Mandatory?” Jon Siegel’s Income Tax Protestors Page. Jon Siegel, 31 Jan. 2007. Web. 3 Mar. 2010.
Winston, E. “Zeitgeist, the Movie Debunked.” Conspiracy Science. Edward L Winston, 1 Jan. 2008. Web. 2 Mar. 2010.
17. THE GEORGIA GUIDESTONES
Dubbed “America’s Stonehenge”, this granite monument in Georgia appeals to all sorts of conspiracy theorists.
On a hilltop in rural Elberton, Georgia stands an incongruous monument: 119 tons of imposing granite in five columns, six meters high, topped with a capstone. Not only are they geometrically arranged, they also offer three astronomical viewing ports marking the positions of the sun and stars, thus their nickname “America’s Stonehenge”. But unlike their English namesake, the Georgia Guidestones are not ancient; they are a recent emplacement. Their most significant trait is the controversial inscriptions, in eight languages. Some feel the messages in these inscriptions unite us; others feel they divide us. The monument refers to these ten mottos as the Guiding Thoughts, offered to the world by the anonymous builders of the monument. The ten Guiding Thoughts are:
MAINTAIN HUMANITY UNDER 500,000,000 IN PERPETUAL BALANCE WITH NATURE
GUIDE REPRODUCTION WISELY — IMPROVING FITNESS AND DIVERSITY
UNITE HUMANITY WITH A LIVING NEW LANGUAGE
RULE PASSION — FAITH — TRADITION AND ALL THINGS WITH TEMPERED REASON
PROTECT PEOPLE AND NATIONS WITH FAIR LAWS AND JUST COURTS
LET ALL NATIONS RULE INTERNALLY RESOLVING EXTERNAL DISPUTES IN A WORLD COURT
AVOID PETTY LAWS AND USELESS OFFICIALS
BALANCE PERSONAL RIGHTS WITH SOCIAL DUTIES
PRIZE TRUTH — BEAUTY — AND LOVE — SEEKING HARMONY WITH THE INFINITE
BE NOT A CANCER ON THE EARTH — LEAVE ROOM FOR NATURE — LEAVE ROOM FOR NATURE
Most of those are pretty harmless, and in fact a lot of people would probably agree that many of them are fine ideas. But the first three, recommending population control, eugenics, and a single world language, throw fuel on the fire of conspiracy theorists who fear an impending New World Order. If not for these first three controversial guides, the stones would probably be long forgotten.
The story of how the Guidestones came to be is just as mysterious as their meaning. The short version of it goes like this. A gentleman named Joe H. Fendley, Sr., was the president of one of the region’s many granite companies, the Elberton Granite Finishing Company. According to the story, one day in June, 1979, he received a visit from a well dressed man who identified himself only with the pseudonym of Robert C. Christian. He told Fendley he represented “A small group of loyal Americans who believe in God.” Christian showed Fendley the plans for his monument and asked for a price. Interestingly, Christian gave his specifications using the metric system, which was pretty rare in the United States in 1979. Fendley later said the price he gave was “six figures”. Christian inquired where Fendley banked, and then left to go meet with the banker.
Thirty minutes later, Christian was received by Wyatt C. Martin, the president of the Granite City Bank. Christian expressed the need for secrecy on this project, including that the funds would be transferred to Martin from a number of different banks around the country. As a banker, Martin did require that Christian show him his true identification, which Christian did, only after Martin agreed to absolute secrecy in perpetuity. Martin agreed to be Christian’s representative in managing the project going forward. Christian then left, corresponding only with Martin from that moment on, and often from different cities.
Fendley’s company went to work. On Christian’s behalf, Martin purchased fives acres of land atop the highest hill in the county for $5000 from farmer Wayne Mullenix, who subsequently acted as contractor laying the foundation for the monument. The six granite slabs were cut, drilled, lettered, and positioned according to the specifications, and unveiled on March 22, 1980. About 400 curious onlookers attended the opening.
The author at the Guidestones
In the decades since, the Georgia Guidestones have sat on their hilltop, gradually succumbing to vandalism, although a number of local volunteers have tried to keep them maintained. Other supporters have offered to install benches or pathways. Local churches are said to disapprove, but since the Guidestones have proven to be the most significant tourist attraction in Elberton, the town lets them be. The Sheriff has even installed security cameras to keep an eye on them.
The biggest question that everyone wants to know about the Guidestones is who built them? The stones themselves give one answer. A flat stone in the ground gives some information about the monument, and lists as its sponsors “A small group of Americans who seek the age of reason.” This answer, quite obviously, is unsatisfactory to the curious. According to Christian, this was by design: he once said “The group feels by having our identity remain secret, it will not distract from the monument and its meaning.” I happen to think he was right on the money. If the monument was known to have been erected by a particular group, it would be easy to dismiss it as “Oh, just more of that nonsense from so-and-so.” The lack of a source lets the Guidestones stand on their own, and the mystery keeps people interested.
The nomination of candidates is easily started. The most obvious name is that of Robert C. Christian himself: Was he actually the only person involved? Although Christian and Martin, the banker, corresponded quite regularly through the years and occasionally even met for dinner, Martin now says that he has not heard from him for some time and assumes he has passed away. Christian said he chose that particular pseudonym because he was a Christian. Some, most notably the conspiracy theorist Jay Weidner, have pointed out the similarities between the name R. C. Christian and that of the apocryphal founder of Rosicrucianism, Christian Rosenkreuz. But whoever Christian was, he was probably not an official representative of Rosicrucianism. Rosicrucian philosophies and mysticism are well documented and widely available, and they bear only minimal similarity to the Guiding Thoughts. L. Ron Hubbard has also been suggested as Christian’s true identity, but this is an even worse fit.
Martin and Fendley are indeed both real people, which is something that you do need to check out in stories like this. The late Mr. Fendley served as mayor of Elberton from 1980 through 1987; and Wyatt Martin is still alive, in fact Wired magazine interviewed him in 2009. Could either Martin or Fendley have been the real sponsor, or even colluded as cosponsors and made up the alleged R. C. Christian? It’s a possibility. Nobody else ever saw or spoke with Christian. Martin showed Wired’s reporter a box of his correspondence with Christian, but would not allow the papers to be examined, citing his promise of secrecy. It’s often noted that Fendley was a 32nd-degree Freemason, and several of his top workers who participated in the Guidestones were also Freemasons in his same lodge. While this may be intriguing to conspiracy theorists, it is not useful evidence of anythin
g at all. Since the Georgia Guidestones were a private enterprise, there are no public records of its financing trail, except the property purchase, which has been fully disclosed. Thus, if Martin and Fendley were indeed responsible, there is no evidence for it, and little likelihood of any evidence ever coming to light. There is, in fact, no reason that I could find to doubt the story as they’ve told it.
The best argument I can think of to point the finger at Martin and Fendley is that they lived in Elberton, near the monument; and Elberton is an awfully strange place to erect a monument that you want to be seen by the whole world. Martin and Fendley, if they wanted to build such a monument, might well choose to do it locally. However, you could make this same argument wherever in the world the monument was built, citing whoever contracted its construction. This small fact is an inevitability of the circumstance, it’s not evidence; and does not suggest Martin and Fendley as the sponsors.
Conspiracy theorists also point to the name of the type of granite used: Pyramid Blue. Clearly (to some), the pyramid imagery suggests Masonic motives. In fact, the name comes from the name of the quarry, Pyramid Quarries, Inc., also in Elberton. Why was this quarry chosen? Simply because Fendley happened to own it. And he didn’t even name it: He purchased the company in the 1970’s as a supplier for his granite finishing and pet memorial companies.
There’s one more clue in the Georgia Guidestones that points conspiracy theorists to suspect an origin in some Zionist New World Order, and that’s the eight languages in which the Guiding Thoughts are inscribed. You might expect the eight most common languages to have been used. You would be in error. The languages are English, Spanish, Swahili, Hindi, Hebrew, Arabic, Mandarin, and Russian. Missing from the top eight are Bengali, Portuguese, Japanese, and German. Why are Hebrew and Swahili included? They’re not even in the world’s top fifty languages. Even if you’re only considering languages spoken in the United States, the top eight are still missing Cantonese, French, German, Tagalog, Vietnamese, and Italian. I’m not sure what the inclusion of Swahili tells us, but the inclusion of Hebrew suggests to conspiracy theorists that a Zionist New World Order is responsible for the Guidestones. This, of course, presumes the existence of a Zionist New World Order conspiracy, and it presumes that such a conspiracy would be usefully served by the erection of a random granite monument in the middle of nowhere in Georgia. Both presumptions strain credibility.
Skeptoid 4: Astronauts, Aliens, and Ape-Men Page 11