Can you imagine?

A bunch of prehistoric druids are sitting around a campfire throwing down bladders of fermented barley grog one night in what would later become England. They are shooting the bull with a group of alien guys who showed up in the neighborhood a few days earlier riding inside of a crazy pie pan shaped bird, and the one of the druid guys says, "Boy I wish we could figure out the best time to plant these seeds to make a crop of barley so we can make more of this grog you guys are drinking like Baptists on a fishing trip."

The aliens get into a huddle to confer and then the leader says, "We can cut some big stones and stack them in a circle here so that the sun will hit right on that rock over there on the best planting day."

"Can you really do that?"

"No, but we can get our corps of engineer contractor to fix you guys up, right after he finishes laser carving those big stone guys and standing them on the cliffs on some island across the big pond."

"How will we be able to pay for all of that?"

"Send that Raquel Welch negotiator lady over tomorrow, and we'll work something out."



I think I may have figured it all out.