32 Return to the Giza Power Plant
Technologist Chris Dunn Finds New Fuel for His Thesis
Christopher Dunn
The Giza Power Plant: Technologies of Ancient Egypt was published in August 1998, and an article summarizing its theory appeared the same year in Atlantis Rising. Since then I have been overwhelmed by the response to the theory. The reviews have been nothing short of incredible! I have received letters and e-mails from all over the world supporting the argument that high levels of technology existed in prehistory and that the Great Pyramid represents the pinnacle of that technology.
Though the power plant theory may explain every characteristic and noted phenomenon found within the Great Pyramid, without actually replicating its function (which is way beyond my own personal resources), the theory could be ignored or dismissed as being too fantastic by those who feel more secure with conventional views of prehistory. Not so with the hard evidence of machining!
There is a section in the book that is increasingly being seen as the “smoking gun” that proves, beyond a doubt, that the pyramid builders used advanced technology. It is not a simple matter to dismiss the physical constraints imposed on those who would attempt to replicate accurately the granite artifacts found in abundance all over this ancient land. Those who try to dismiss it do so from inexperience and do not understand the subtleties of the work, or they cling desperately to the belief that Western civilization is the first civilization to develop science and to translate that science into products that require advanced methods of manufacturing.
My article, Advanced Machining in Ancient Egypt (later expanded to become my book The Giza Power Plant), has been under public scrutiny for around fifteen years. With the level of support that it has received from those who, today, would be charged with performing the same kind of work performed by the ancient Egyptians, along with additional proof, it is rising from the rank of theory to fact. Since its original publication, in 1984, this tentative, controversial thorn in the side of Egyptologists has been reinforced time and time again by my own on-site inspections and by others who have had the opportunity to see these incredible artifacts for themselves. The weight of evidence and the educated opinions of those who understand are creating a consensus that is overturning our understanding of prehistory.
The most awesome implication may be that civilizations are mortal!
Civilizations such as ours can rise to great heights only to be dashed by natural or engineered effects. In a blink of an eye, we can lose it all! Whether as one or as multiple blinks of an eye, our distant ancestors in prehistoric Egypt received a mortal blow to the industry capable of creating the artifacts we see there today. Whether that blow came from extraterrestrial forces, a comet, geophysical disturbances, or even a nuclear war is open to speculation. The fact remains that their industries did exist and somehow became extinct!
The purpose here is not to belabor the obvious or to restate what others have stated more eloquently (I know I’m “preaching to the choir” for the most part), but rather to provide an update on what has happened since the book was published. On a recent trip to Egypt, as a participant in the conference Egypt in the New Millennium, I was able to perform additional on-site inspection of some of the artifacts I described in my articles and book.
I was also blessed to discover startling evidence that supports and confirms a unique and important aspect of the Giza power plant theory. This was evidence that made chills run down my spine, for it came about in a rather unexpected manner. This evidence was inside the Great Pyramid in the grand gallery, and I am still amazed by what I found. I will elaborate on this later.
It is with great appreciation for the organizers, attendees, and speakers at this conference that this article is written. Their spirit, diversity, and camaraderie buoyed my spirit and gave me strength. But more than that, through their support and patronage (which was sometimes accompanied with frustrating and arduous conditions, with our blessed guide Hakim almost being thrown in jail), further evidence to support the power plant theory has now been captured on video and becomes part of the historical record.
A large part of my presentation at Gouda Fayed’s conference center in Nazlet El Samman was to be an on-site inspection and demonstration of the precision of several artifacts. Gouda’s place overlooked the Sphinx, with the Giza plateau and the pyramid complex forming an awe-inspiring backdrop.
Though I can say with great confidence that I have proved that the ancient pyramid builders used advanced methods for machining granite, the full scope of the work has not yet been determined or documented. For my trip to Egypt in 1995, I had taken some instruments with me to inspect the flatness of artifacts that, just by simple observation, appeared extremely precise.
Mere looking, however, is not a sufficient means to determine the true characteristics of the artifacts. I needed some kind of known reference with which I could compare the precision. I also needed something simple and transportable. The precision-ground straightedge I used in 1995 allowed me to determine a higher order of precision in many different artifacts than what has been described in any previous literature.
This year, in my backpack, I carried a precision-ground twelve-inchlong parallel, or straightedge, precise to within .0001 inch. I also had a precision toolmaker’s solid square. I knew exactly the artifacts I wanted to use it on—the inside corners of the granite boxes at the temple of the Serapeum at Saqqara and inside the pyramids. Also in my tool kit was a set of precision Starrett radius gauges for inspecting the machined radius that makes the transition from one surface or contour of an artifact to another. These instruments are critical to our understanding of the basic attributes of the artifacts.
Unfortunately, I was unable to access the rock tunnel at the temple of the Serapeum, where more than twenty huge black granite and basalt boxes weighing over seventy tons reside. We pleaded with the officials at the site, and I even discussed it with a local businessman who claimed to have considerable power and influence in such matters. Nevertheless, I was told that the Serapeum was closed because it was a danger to the public. “What kind of danger?” I asked, and was told in reply that dripping water threatened to collapse the roof. I chose not to ask the obvious question about where the water came from in such an arid country. There was enough other work to do.
Following my morning presentation on the advanced machining methods of the ancient Egyptians, the entire conference group and the film crew proceeded to the Giza plateau and into the bedrock chamber of the second largest pyramid on the plateau: Khafre’s pyramid. In this chamber in 1995 I had discovered the perfect flatness on the inside surfaces of the black granite box (commonly and mistakenly, in my opinion, known as the sarcophagus). At that time I had uttered the words “Space-age precision!” to a group of Spanish tourists who were looking on as I beamed my flashlight behind the precise edge of a steel parallel and revealed the stunning precision of the surface.
Although I confidently wrote articles citing this as additional proof of the level of technology practiced by the pyramid builders, in the back of my mind was the nagging need to go back to Egypt with additional instruments and do more tests. Each time I go to Egypt I approach these relics with eager anticipation and some trepidation. Will I find them the same? Will the next range of instruments confirm or deny what was gleaned on the previous visit?
The cool confines of the passageway leading to the bedrock chamber of Khafre’s pyramid were a welcome relief from the burning Egyptian sun. It felt familiar and right to be there. I was excited to share the discovery I had made four years earlier with the wonderful people who attended the conference, as well as being able to document the event on video. But still there was that twinge of doubt. Had I made a mistake in the past? Would the new instruments reveal anything significant?
Climbing into the black granite box set into the floor of the chamber, I placed my twelve-inch straightedge on the inside surface. The “edge” used this time had been prepared differently from the one I had used in 1995, as it had a chamfer on both corners. For those interested, I slid this edge along the smooth interior of the granite box with my flashlight shining behind it and demonstrated its exact precision. But I was anxious to perform other tests. The squareness of the corners was of critical importance to me. Modern machine axes are aligned orthogonally, or exactly perpendicular, to each other to ensure accuracy. This state ensures that the corners cut into an object on the machine are square and true.
The requirements for producing this condition go beyond coincidental simplicity. I wasn’t expecting the corners of the sarcophagus to be perfectly square, for perfection is extremely difficult to achieve. I was flabbergasted as I slid my precision square along the top of the parallel (I used the top of the parallel to raise the square above the corner radius), and it fit perfectly on the adjacent surface.
“Bloody hell!” I exclaimed as the significance of this find came over me. I pointed it out to others in the group. (Alan Alford would spend the next few days mimicking me with a good-natured “Bloody hell!”) The film crew was busy capturing my exploration on video as I went to each corner and found the same condition. On three corners, the square sat flush against both surfaces. One corner had a gap that was detected by the light test, though it was probably only about .001 inch.
So not only did we have an artifact with perfectly flat surfaces, but the inside corners were also perfectly square. What else was significant about this so-called sarcophagus? The corners themselves! After conducting the test with the parallel and the square, I pulled out my radius gauges to check the corner radius. As I checked the corner, I chuckled to myself with memories of a documentary I had seen earlier that year.
Those of you who saw the Fox special in September 2002 will remember the moment in it when the world’s foremost Egyptologist and the director of the Giza plateau, Zahi Hawass, picked up a dolerite ball in the bedrock chamber under one of the satellite pyramids next to Khephren’s pyramid. He was describing, to the Fox anchor Suzie Koppel, the Egyptologists’ theory of the methods the ancient Egyptians used to create granite artifacts. This method involved bashing the granite with a round ball until the desired shape was achieved.
I’m not disputing that this is a viable means of creating a box and, indeed, there is evidence at Memphis near Saqqara that some boxes were created in this manner. These boxes had large corner radii, which were extremely rough and tapered toward the bottom—exactly what one would expect to produce using a stone ball. However, as Hawass was wielding his eight-inch-diameter ball in front of the cameras, my attention was focused on the shiny, black, so-called sarcophagus behind him, which sat in mute contradiction to his proposition.
The inside of this box had the same appearance as the box inside Khafre’s pyramid. The surfaces appeared smooth and precise but, more important, the inside corners were equally as sharp as what I had witnessed in Khafre’s pyramid. Just looking at it, one could see that to create such an artifact with an eight-inch-diameter ball would be impossible!
Likewise, creating the corner radius of the box inside Khafre’s pyramid using such primitive methods would be impossible. Checking this corner radius with my radius gauges, I started with a half-inch radius gauge and kept working my way down in size until the correct one had inadvertently been selected. The inside corner radius of the box inside Khafre’s pyramid checked 3/32 inch. The radius at the bottom, where the floor of the box met the wall, checked 7/16 inch. It should go without saying that one cannot fit an eight-inch ball into a corner with a 3/32 radius, or even a one-inch radius.
THE GIZA POWER PLANT: THE PROOF
I don’t think I have ever been as surprised as I was while filming inside the grand gallery. Filming inside the grand gallery had been especially rewarding, as I had had my doubts as to whether I would even get to go into the Great Pyramid. It had been closed to visitors, ostensibly for restoration, and we had spent almost a week of uncertainty over access. But after numerous calls and visits to officials, we finally got the go-ahead.
While most of the group meditated in the King’s Chamber, the video crew and I went out into the grand gallery to do some filming. I was going to describe, on camera, my theory about the function of the grand gallery. This involved pointing out the slots in the gallery side ramps, the corbeled walls, and the ratchet-style ceiling. Equipped with a microphone, I stood just below the great step, the camera at the top. While the soundman adjusted his gear, I scanned the wall with my flashlight. It was then I noticed that the first corbeled ledge had some scorch marks underneath it, and that some of the stone was broken away. Then, as the camera lights came on, things became really interesting.
In all the literature I had read, the grand gallery was described as being constructed of limestone. But here I was looking at granite! I noted a transition point farther down the gallery where the rock changed from limestone to granite. I scanned the ceiling and saw, instead of the rough, crumbling limestone one sees when first entering the gallery, what appeared to be, from twenty-eight feet below, smooth, highly polished granite. This was of great significance to me. It made sense that the material closer to the power center would be constructed of a material that was more resistant to heat!
I then paid closer attention to the scorch marks on the walls. There was heavy heat damage underneath each of the corbeled layers, for a distance of about twelve inches, and it seemed as though the damage was concentrated in the center of the burn marks. Then, visually, I took a straight line through the center of each scorch mark and projected it down toward the gallery ramp. That was when chills ran down my spine and the hair stood out on my neck. The line extended in alignment with the slot in the ramp!
In The Giza Power Plant, I had theorized that harmonic resonators were housed in these slots and were oriented vertically toward the ceiling. I had also theorized that there was a hydrogen explosion inside the King’s Chamber that had shut down the power plant’s operation. This explosion explained many other unusual effects that have been noted inside the Great Pyramid in the past, and I had surmised that the explosion had also destroyed the resonators inside the grand gallery in a terrible fire.
Only with the powerful lights of the video camera did the evidence become clear, and illuminated before me, as at no other time before—the charred evidence to support my theory. This was evidence that I had not even been looking for!
Even as I conclude this article, I continue to receive confirmation that I’m on the right track. Others are stepping forward with their own research along the same lines. A more complete update on all of this, though, will have to wait for another time. Perhaps when the Egyptian government discloses what it finds behind Gantenbrink’s door? I am most anxious to know what is discovered behind this so-called door. If my own prediction is correct, then yet another aspect of the power plant theory will be confirmed.
It has been an interesting year.