This Cox fellow finds it necessary to make himself the focal point of every shot with dramatic silhouettes of his best Captain Morgan impression. The guy goes trampling through the ruins of Chankillo, these thousand -year-old monuments to human ingenuity, while pondering that "all but the smallest fragments are gone, the details of this culture..are lost." Maybe they'd be around for another thousand years if he wasn't so worried about his damn shot on top of the mounds. And what the hell is with that vignette. It's like the lens blackened around the ages after a straight thirty-six hours of silhouette shots. And then the guy goes and talks about the wonders of some ancient cycle while a thousand turtles around him poop eggs into the sand and I just don't get it.