Late prehistoric discovery in the Annex neighborhood
In one of the most successful marketing campaigns in recorded history, the Egyptian government has convinced the world that their country is special in some way for having pyramids. The world is, in fact, dotted with them. To name a few: the Pyramid of Cestius, a leading contender for Rome’s most well-known monument; the dozens in the Nubian city of Meroe, built with all the enthusiasm of the ancient Egyptians and none of the skill; the Ziggurat of Ur in modern-day Iraq, the imposing Neo-Sumerian monument which, when renovated after four-thousand years by Saddam Hussain, was thrust into the folds of geopolitical relevance once anew; and, the Mayan’s Chichen Itza pyramid, towering 30 meters with a sinkhole for a hypocenter, an enduring homage to humankind’s disregard for their surroundings.
The list goes on but for years, it has been thought to be complete. So strong has this presumption been that restless explorers, once known for gallivanting through rainforests and deserts to discover monuments already known to locals, have traded their machetes in for staplers. The recently-discovered pyramids of Annex have inviolably overturned this consensus and left blacksmith workshops scrambling for supplies to cope with the steep rise in machete demand. The relative obscurity they had enjoyed over the past few centuries, nestled as they are in this bustling neighborhood, is puzzling. A leading conjecture blames the lack of diversity in the heights of academics’ ivory towers: as a practical matter, the pyramids of Annex admit a more humble presence than the Pyramid of Khufu.
It is not, however, that surprising to find pyramids in this neck of the woods. They enjoy universal appeal and for good reason. The various function of pyramids in the past have reliably intersected with a common human desire to find meaning in our chaotic existence. Our ancestors, bereft of the knowledge and wisdom at our fingertips today, made sense of their lives in a most peculiar way: recent work suggests that they, to use a technical term, introspected. Having exhausted their personal store of insights, they looked for guidance, in unison with their fellow humans and sub-humans, at the foot of pyramids. The gully between the passage of life and a pyramid’s odd architecture, however, runs much deeper. The pyramid is an enduring reminder of the impermanence of our existence. The vagaries of life have lulled us into a deep slumber, out of which it seeks to rouse. Its wide base, a bounty of promise and possibility, speaks of our youth. A vertical climb mirrors the constricting of vitality through the years: the petty disappointments gradually, but surely, whittle us all down to bare nothingness. To be brief, the curtain-call on life is a helpless step protruding into air, the abrupt end of a climb, non-existence.
This somber reminder understandably provokes angst, and the great builders of yonder past appear to have found solace in constructing pyramids of a towering stature. This attempt at fighting their fate, to elongate their climb, is ultimately futile, a fact the prehistoric civilization in Annex appears uniquely to have grasped. The Annex pyramids’ acute stature belies a reactionary attitude towards death and calls instead for submitting to our destiny. Don’t get me wrong: their unusually short stature isn’t just an philosophical stance. It embodies a clever optical illusion, a hint at the cleverness of its progenitors; a cleverness that has, sadly, been washed away by the lapping waves of time. While the pyramids look miniature at a distance, as the astute observer draws near, they belie physical constraints and seem to grow larger. What is the meaning of this? How was this technological feat accomplished? Modern understanding comes up embarrassingly short in furnishing answers.
We are regrettably left with more questions than answers, confronted as we are with this novel mystery. Toronto’s archaeological community has understandably been thunderstruck by the discovery. Their tepid response to requests for comment speak of an academic discipline thrown in utter disarray. The handful of forthcoming responses showcase a spectrum of bewilderment, disbelief and outright denial, which bodes poorly for the possibility of an end to this mystery. Will we ever learn the true stories of the civilization that built these pyramids? Or, will their stories wallow in a pool of neglect, as they have all these years? We are in the process of setting up a prediction market to answer these trying questions of our time.