Humans evolved, somehow, on this planet we call Earth. We developed language and burial rituals. We invented a god. We survived while other branches of the human family tree died off. We sit in Starbucks cafe's and sip on Venti vanilla latte's and listen to our ipods, while reading Neil Gaiman. We've come a long way, baby. And yet...who are we?

What are we?

With the end of Battlestar Galactica, I started to think of all the ancient astronaut theories out there. I even watched a special about Barrier Canyon Rock Art and wondered what sorts of things our ancestors saw. What did they know about our past that we will never know because we are so far removed from our origins?

Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of bullshit out there calling itself Archaeology. It's all pseudo-stupidity and its purpose is to serve the fantastical rather than the truth. But somewhere, somehow...the truth is lying in the sands of time. Those strange beings looking down at us from the rock face of Horseshoe Canyon are depictions of something the people of that region saw. Whether they be anthropomorphic visions or actual flesh and blood beings, they speak of the past. They speak of a time when everything was mysterious. Unknown.

It makes a lot of us wonder what the weathered canyons used to look like? Were their faces carved into them hundreds of thousands of years ago? Pyramids? It's all relative when you wonder if sometime in the distant past a band of travelers settled here and left a trace of their existence somewhere. And no, maybe they weren't a race of human/cylon individuals. That is totally not what I am saying.

What I am saying is there are some strange places in the world, and stranger things still. Giant heads. Giant walls. Giant doors. Cities suddenly abandoned. Civilizations leaving tales of wayward star travellers. Are all of these things coincidental? Are we just a race of storytellers? Imaginaires?

Or, are we a race of people that has roots are out there, somewhere beyond the milkyway on worlds unknown, of a time long forgotten, of a people long dead? Wouldn't our children say the same if suddenly the earth were destroyed and only a few of us made it out there, only to settle on another world, to begin anew?

I'm not gullible and I don't take science fiction shows and add them to my reality. But I do always and often wonder where all ideas and stories begin, and the ideology behind BSG is as old as humanity itself. So, why tell the same tale over and over again in different incarnations if not to serve a purpose? What purpose would that be? To help us to remember, perhaps?

Here's to hoping someday someone excavates in some unknown, forgotten and wholly insignificant spot on the earth, and happens upon proof of our celestial origins. I've been on this planet for 30 years and I am still waiting for someone to say life here began out there. But they've got to show me something to prove it.

Maybe a 150,000 thousand year old set of Admiral pins and a wedding ring...

I'm taking bets.