Thursday, August 09, 2007



For my sister's birthday on Monday, our parents took us to see the Dead Sea Scrolls which are currently on display here in Balboa Park. In this picture I simulate the dedicated calligrapher who obviously handwrote all the signage (it couldn't possibly be a Matura font), thus giving one and all the impression of an ancient people, avoiding the stuffy classiness of a simpler font.

Yes, every time you think you've seen the limits of my snobbery, I go one step further.

The exhibit was ridiculously crowded, and it was hard to really look at anything as at the same time everyone was concentrating on not bumping into anyone else. And this was a Monday. And people brought kids--little kids, most of which were running about, some of whom were literally banging their heads against the wall. It never fails to amaze me how far parents overestimate the children whose creativity and curiosity they've ignored or dismissed.

I have a feeling most of the people were there on account of a certain popular novel that inspired a certain studiously lacklustre Ron Howard movie staring Tom Hanks with a skeevy haircut. I fully believe every be-flip-flopped sir or madam was there with some vague idea of cracking the code at last, of finding the secret crossword puzzle hidden by the Catholic Church.

It was interesting stuff to look at, though. Looking at items thousands of years old always gives me a pleasant feeling of vertigo, and actually my favourite item was a two thousand year old shoe, a women's size 5 according to the recorded guide. You could see the imprint of toes and heel in the leather sole.

Anyway, my mother and sister took pictures of me, and I must say I really hate the way I look these days. In fact, I do believe this is my best side;



Don't believe me? Behold!

If you have information regarding the whereabouts of my chin, please contact me.

Finally, here my sister and I leave the exhibit. Yes, she wears flip-flops, but I try not to hold it against her;


Obviously, I need to be doing more than fifty sit-ups a day . . . Or avoid standing next to my sister for photos, at the very least.

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