It's normal to feel small and insignicant when you think about the size of the Earth and our expanded universe. It's an existential fear that pops into our heads late at night when we're feeling anxious about our place in this world and can't stop Googling "What's the meaning of life".
With meglaphobia, the fear of large objects is on a smaller scale (pun definitely intended).
Standing next to a massive cruise ship or a 328-foot wind turbine can leave a person in awe of the size and ability of these enourmous structures to dwarf us in the wake of their massive shadow. Or perhaps it's the thought of a collosal object that is much, MUCH bigger than what it's representing. A huge sculpture of a person out in the middle of a body of water, or an enourmous abstract spider installation sitting in an otherwise normal public space can evoke an uncanny feeling that giants are among us, capable of crushing our bones into a bloody pulp.
It's easy to understand meglaphobia when you look at pictures of these towering objects that loom over humanity like silent predators waiting to strike. It's similar to the feeling of H.P. Lovecraftian sublime: something so great, whether physical or metaphysical, that is beyond all possibility of calculation or measurement, something otherworldy...and possibly dangerous.
When compared to colossal objects, we're reminded how small we truly are.
1. Just think about how deep the rest of her must go...
2. Oh captain, my captain!
3. You get up to the top and the door locks behind you. You are stuck.
4. Be silent, do not disturb it.
5. Rosetta's Comet compared to downtown Los Angeles.
6. It stands quietly in the mist.
7. Imagine swimming up next to this.
8. Rendered reconstruction of Colossus of Rhodes.
9. You've awaken him.
10. What if those turbines turn on?
11. Hanging out on a clock tower in Mecca.
12. Poseidon arises.