TSoA: Chapter 41: Ark of Wonders–Don’t Touch Anything
About half the ark is visible, with the prow sticking out of the snow.
For those who are interested. 😉
Murphy thinks for a moment about the time God was a total dick in the past, then thinks about the time God will be a total dick in the future:
Murphy’s elation at the discovery turned to anxiety. How can I warn people? How can I convince them? Maybe this discovery will help the world to realize that they need to turn to God and run to Him for safety from the coming judgment.
Murph makes the judgment sound like a natural disaster. But…these are disasters that are created and implemented by God, right?
Yes, make sure to turn to the evil dictator and run to him for safety from his acts of genocide.
Time for exploration of this “miracle of construction.”
Wow, there are stairs and ramps and stalls.
“Look up there!” shouted [the Dick].
Um, the Dick? There’s really no need to shout—we’re all right here.
He was pointing to what looked like birdcages hanging from the ceiling in each stall. “This must be how they were able to get so many animals in the ark.”
IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW
(I can just imagine Tim LaHaye imagining the birds on the ark: “Let’s see, there would be chickens and duckies and robins. And flamingoes. And the American Bald Eagle. That’s it, right? Hey, they would totally fit on a boat!”)
“You want me to get in there??? You can stick that cage where the sun don’t shine, Noah!”
(Pic from here.)
They find what they assume to be living quarters, and there is writing on a wall (ha!):
Isis stepped forward and ran her fingers over the symbols. “It looks like a story, written in a form of proto-Hebrew. Perhaps the story of the building of the ark.” She gasped at the implication hit her. “This could be the oldest writing ever recorded!”
She dragged herself reluctantly away and they continued on.
Yeah, don’t take a PICTURE, will ya, Larry?
That is seriously all the time they let her spend with the writing.
And then Murphy finds something he wants to tamper with, and that is much more important than anything Isis might want to do:
Under a collapsed beam was what looked like a chest. With a lot of effort they dragged it free, and Murphy began to pry it open with an ice axe.
…an ice axe.
WHAT WHAT WHATWHATWHATWHATWHAT
What kind of fly-by-night online Wile E. Coyote School of Refrigerator Repair and End Times Prophecy did you get your “archaeology” degree from, Michael Murphy???
With a loud crack, the wood gave way and Murphy opened the chest.
“Oh, sure,” Murphy shrugged. “Some ‘traditional’ archaeologists might have waited to take the chest back to a lab and open it under controlled conditions in order to maintain the integrity of this ancient and priceless artifact, but I WANT TO SEE INSIDE RIGHT NOW.”
Murphy must have given his parents hell weeks leading up to Christmas.
Inside they find one of Tubal-Cain’s singing sword and some of the tools Tubal-Cain gave to Noah. I guess Noah and his family thought these incredibly useful items were better off stored in a box for all eternity rather than…oh, I dunno…HELPING THEM SURVIVE.
They spend forever examining the Manly weapons and tools, which is funny because they didn’t even give Isis one full minute to examine the oldest writing on the planet. Token Turk messes around with Tubal-Cain’s DIY alchemy kit…
“What is it?” asked [Token Turk], reaching a hand in to scoop up some of the crystals, before jumping back, his fingers scorched.
“I don’t know,” laughed Murphy. “But whatever it is, it still seems to be working!”
“Ha! Your pain gives me joy!” chuckled the “team leader,” as his underling sought first aid for his burns.
But Murphy’s glee at his comrade’s pain is quickly dispelled. In the box are also two bronze plates, and Isis is awesome:
“Michael, I don’t mean to keep harping on it, but these bronze plates look remarkably like the one that was supposed to come from the Monastery of St. Jacob. The one you were so sure was a fake,” she added pointedly.
“Of course,” Murphy admitted. “You’re right.”
“You’re right.” Words Michael Murphy has probably said twice in his life. Maybe. Savor this moment, Isis. It isn’t likely to happen again.
But of course, it’s not enough to make some sissy move like admitting a woman was right and he was wrong. Being proved wrong calls for a manly act of manliness. Preferably involving violence.
He brought his fist down on the table with a crash.
“I had the third one in my hands—but I let it go!”
“And I’m so angry that I need to smash this piece of the most amazing relic in the history of mankind! That’ll teach me! Stupid table that Noah and his family sat at every day!”