About this episode
Tyler Engle is a musician, researcher, author, and host of the "BassForge" YouTube channel.www.youtube.com/@BassForge_ushttps://bassforge.us
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Episode summary
This AI-generated Shortcast summary may omit nuance. Use the original episode when context or exact wording matters.
Tyler, your Instagram is the kind of doom-scroll rabbit hole where I can pretend I’m learning. Your Noah’s Ark post got me: I knew about scans in Turkey, not the Sumerian links. They’re probing Ararat again, maybe finding petrified wood. It’s weird as hell.
I’m skeptical, but Ararat deserves a proper excavation. Drone surveying, the shape, worked stones, and perforated stones resembling anchors make me ask why not. Sumerian tradition has Ziusudra before a flood, and that region has evidence of destructive water events.
Every animal on Earth, two by two, on one boat doesn’t work for me. But a regional catastrophe can become the whole world when everything you know disappears. The warning is the fascinating part: how did Noah know early enough to build a survival vessel?
I don’t think every flood story means one global day. There could be separate or cascading catastrophes, recorded from the edge of people’s horizons. Lake Van and that volcanic, mineral-heavy terrain are strange. Old stories may preserve something real without preserving it neatly.
Giants get interesting there too. What counts as a giant? Our fossil record is absurdly incomplete, and body size changes with food and conditions. Legends may exaggerate, or remember populations we barely understand.
Stuff gets dismissed until a piece turns up. Troy was fiction until it wasn’t. Hieroglyphic writing appears sophisticated already; we haven’t found some clean developmental ramp. I’m not calling every legend literal, but ancient records shouldn’t mean nothing by reflex.
Stonework keeps making me go, hmm. Kailasa is cut from hard rock at a nuts scale. Modern experiments barely remove material, and old damage attempts hardly dented it. “Copper tools, sand, done” feels like a wildly incomplete answer.
Kailasa is useful because parts look unfinished. You see changing detail, narrow passages, scraping marks, and deep cuts. I haven’t solved it; maybe a missing technique made the work easier. But the geometry and marks suggest we’re overlooking something.
We’re egocentric if we assume we’re automatically the most sophisticated culture ever. Moving giant granite today takes specialty trucks, reinforcement, roads, planning—the whole circus. Questions about hundreds-ton blocks through sand are legitimate. Academia should be able to admit, “We don’t have the full picture.”
I studied computer engineering, worked construction and restoration, and those questions wouldn’t leave me alone. Baalbek smashed me in the face: enormous foundations, later-looking construction above them, and no clear base construction record. It looks like layered history, not one tidy project.
You see precise-looking work beneath rougher masonry in Peru, Mesoamerica, everywhere. The Aztecs treated Teotihuacan as inherited and sacred. If catastrophe scattered giant blocks while basic work stayed above, you at least have to entertain that the sequence we’re taught is upside down.
My theory gets speculative fast, so I separate observation from interpretation. Odd cuts, ringing stone, microscopic spheres, and materials deserve study. I’m interested in plasma, resonance, and cavitation; maybe supposed artifacts were unrecognized tools. Possibility, not settled fact.
We keep trying to make ancient technology resemble ours. We chose combustion, electricity, electronics, computers. Another civilization could pursue sound, materials, geometry, or water. If somebody found a phone and English manual after a collapse, they could worship it and still not understand a signal.
I read temple geometry as a possible language. Pyramids, wells, chambers, obelisks, and resonant stone may have formed infrastructure; later ritual could be the operating system. Geometry might route environmental forces between ground and sky, with people part of the interface. That’s the framework I’m testing.
The pyramid question is insane because tombs feel limited. People reporting possible anomalies beneath Giza deserve serious investigation. Why wouldn’t we want to know? But bureaucracy and ego make experts gatekeepers, and careers built on one story make change hard.
I see the Great Pyramid less as a transmitter than something focusing or sinking energy into the ground. Limestone, quartz-rich granite, chambers, water, and orientation could matter. My leap is that sites managed water, soil, fertility, and ecology. Different regions may show different specializations.
But how the fuck do you learn that? If temples altered weather, plant growth, consciousness, or electrical environments, that’s an insane runway. Maybe peace allowed innovation, then floods and wars knocked knowledge backward. The oldest surviving structures being most baffling is hard to shake.
Dynastic Egyptians may not have invented the deepest layer. The Osireion, pyramid complexes, and huge foundations feel like durable hardware; later temples may preserve instructions. Ritual used darkness, acoustics, incense, procession, and imagery to train attention. I’m open to altered states, not literal mummy memory downloads.
The Telepathy Tapes made me wonder whether this “hill” people describe has older parallels. Non-speaking autistic kids reportedly meet and learn in a shared inner place, sometimes with a teacher. I’m not saying it proves anything, but beside dream temples and initiation, it’s wild.
Prompts may matter. Ritual images or formulas could guide altered experience like the right sequence in a system. Egyptian texts have journeys, protection, boats, and strange beings. I compare imagery with physics diagrams without pretending a match is established fact.
The Book of Caverns is fucking wild: long-limbed, headless-looking figures, nested gates, scenes nobody confidently explains. AI can repeat academic labels, but that’s not meaning. We lack an ancient Egyptian walking us through every chamber.
Translation is a trap. A glyph can carry layers where modern vocabulary wants one definition. Egyptian visual language may sometimes work like engineering drawing; other traditions may encode cycles, flow, agriculture, or order. Calling everything fertility rite can miss the mechanism.
Sound may be the doorway. With DMT and songs, normally chaotic patterns can seem to move with music. Put chanting in a carved chamber with ridiculous resonance and you have to ask whether it was intentional. Why build that precisely if nothing is meant to happen inside?
Sound reaches the body fast, and a resonant room changes experience before reason catches up. Maybe these spaces helped people navigate inner states through rhythm, symbols, and geometry. Recreate acoustics carefully, study effects ethically, and see whether there’s more than spooky storytelling.
The more wisdom you light up, the more darkness you see around it. Who made these places, when, with what tools, and why do they hit exact resonances? I’m not claiming answers. The questions are bigger than, “They were tombs, next subject.”
That’s my day-to-day rabbit hole, dude. I want evidence, theories, engineering comparisons, visuals, and music together without pretending every leap is proven. I’m taking it live this year with conferences and a project built over years: this conversation turned into sound and imagery.
It’s nutty shit, but it’s fun, and I respect how much you’ve absorbed. Find Baseforge on Instagram and YouTube for the full rabbit hole. We should absolutely do this again. Thanks for being here, man. Bye, everybody.