Tomb talk – the nature of academia…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s weather is hanging like a white fat belly with wrinkles around the edges.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Here is an old post that I have retrieved from the early days of my blog when it was on Myspace. It is the very first one that featured my characters ‘Brownlow’ and the ‘Professor’.

Horus, wearing the crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt, waits in the darkness…
Four thousand dusty years pass…
One day, yellow torchlight flickers across the obsidian gloom and gently touches ivory, lapis lazuli, and gold… Voices in a modern tongue, invade the chamber…
‘Professor… professor, bring your lantern over here…’
‘What is it Brownlow?’
‘Here sir, on the side of the sarcophagus, I’ve cleared the debris away, and there seems to be some sort of inscription…’
‘Good lord, yes, you are right… Can you make it out lad?’
‘The text has been deliberately broken up, which makes it difficult to read, but it appears to chronicle the sexual exploits of a highly regarded warrior. I don’t know what to make of it. What is your opinion sir?’
‘Mm… yes… it’s what we call ‘erratic erotic heroic hieratic’.’
‘Well professor, that’s easy enough for you to say…’
‘Yes, it is Brownlow, but someday you’ll find it easy to say difficult things like that too…’

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in archeology, conversation, history, learning, words and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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