I made it about fifteen minutes into this trifling mess and remembered Hancock’s Fingerprints of the Gods in which he posited an advanced ice-age civilization came from Antarctica before a polar shift 12,000 years ago.
You can read all about here:
What Hancock did in this book and his latest work on Netflix is rebrand a decades-old theory of a missing Aryan race who gave knowledge of varying sorts to the world that stretches from Erich Von Daniken and Zecharia Sitchin back to Heinrich Himmler. Only, Hancock leaves extraterrestrials out of it.
Writers like Graham Hancock inevitably draw the admiration of conspiracy theorists for two reasons: the conspiracy theorist’s tendency toward pseudo argument, even when presented with actual facts, and an inability to think critically, which lends itself to the former. If you have been cornered by Grassy Knoll Gretchen, Faked Moon Landing Fernando, Hollow Earth Howard, or even Flat Earth Florence at a party then you know the type.
The failsafe defense for people like Hancock and conspiracy theorists is a continuous loop of accusations that paints anyone who disagrees with them as sheeple or tools of any number of those in control—from the Deep State to the Illuminati, from the New World Order to the Bildeberg Group.
They are not going away. And now streaming services have cashed in on pseudo science and conspiracies just like the big publishing houses. Money talks, the truth walks.