My Name is Jesse Jones, I teach fashion design at Yale University, but I'm also secretly an amateur architect. Last summer I was on an a fashion tour in Constantinople checking out all the latest fashion trends there, but I was also secretly there to check out all of the beautiful architecture. One day I went into a swanky looking bar called "The Pointed Shoe", while I was in there I met a group of young guys who talked a lot about ancient history. I got talking to them, and they began to talking to me about how interesting trade was during the times from 300CE to 1500CE. None of it interested me very much, but I hung around because I was hoping there would be a time for me to tell them all how horrible their outfits were (their shoes didn't match their socks, and their pants didn't match their shirts). I never got to say anything, because they wouldn't stop talking about trade, but eventually they asked me whether I wanted to go with them to this new dig sight they were headed to in some desert. I thought to myself, 'I can't let these men go on with their lives, dressed like that; I have to go help them change their ways, and choose clothing that compliments each other. And if I can't change their ways here, then there will be plenty of time to save them at that dig sight!' And with that thought I accepted their invitation.
It was a fairly long journey to the dig sight : miles by car, and then even more miles by foot. All throughout that journey a tried my best to talk to them about changing their ways, but none of them listened, they'd just keep telling me about something to do with trade, and how it was revolutionized by something called an astrolabe. It was a difficult journey, each person I looked at along the way had horrible fashion, but I held out until we reached the dig sight. Once, we were there they got right into the holes and crevices digging around all day long. It was a week of torture as I was unable to speak to them about fixing their fashion. But then, one day I called out to one of the men, 'Hey Jenson'. And he turned around and said, 'What is it Jesse?' This was my time, finally one of them had listened to me. 'Your outfit looks bad,' I told him. 'Oh? Really?' He responded. Finally, I could tell at least one of them about their fashion, and how to correct it. But just at that moment a shot rung out, and Jenson fell into the sand. I kneeled down next to him, as more shots rung out, 'They found us,' said Jenson, the others ran about the camp in a frenzy. 'Who?' I asked. 'The neo-Nazis, they've been chasing us for years, they don't want us uncovering the past, so they're trying to take all the artifacts for themselves, to destroy.' He thrusted his backpack to me. 'Here take this, it has a few of the artifacts we found in it, along with my notes about them. Please save these few items, they belong in a museum.' I grabbed the backpack and slung it over my back, 'Of course I will Jenson, but there's one thing I have to tell you before I go.' 'What it is it Jesse.' He weakly murmured. 'Jeans don't go with turtlenecks.' I told him. 'I'll keep that in mind.' He whispered. And with that I ran into the desert, bringing Jenson's bag along with me. I had finally completed my mission, and with that I didn't need to stay there any longer. Though I wouldn't forget Jenson, and so I carried out his dying wish. Except the museum wouldn't believe my story, and had a security guard escort me off of the premises, so instead I created this blog. The posts here were formed from the notes left in Jenson's notebook after I escaped. Many of the pages were ripped in my escape, but I was still able to write three posts form the remains of his notebook, so please share this blog with your friends, it is what Jenson would have wanted.
The blog is in memory of Jenson James, Amateur Archeologist
It was a fairly long journey to the dig sight : miles by car, and then even more miles by foot. All throughout that journey a tried my best to talk to them about changing their ways, but none of them listened, they'd just keep telling me about something to do with trade, and how it was revolutionized by something called an astrolabe. It was a difficult journey, each person I looked at along the way had horrible fashion, but I held out until we reached the dig sight. Once, we were there they got right into the holes and crevices digging around all day long. It was a week of torture as I was unable to speak to them about fixing their fashion. But then, one day I called out to one of the men, 'Hey Jenson'. And he turned around and said, 'What is it Jesse?' This was my time, finally one of them had listened to me. 'Your outfit looks bad,' I told him. 'Oh? Really?' He responded. Finally, I could tell at least one of them about their fashion, and how to correct it. But just at that moment a shot rung out, and Jenson fell into the sand. I kneeled down next to him, as more shots rung out, 'They found us,' said Jenson, the others ran about the camp in a frenzy. 'Who?' I asked. 'The neo-Nazis, they've been chasing us for years, they don't want us uncovering the past, so they're trying to take all the artifacts for themselves, to destroy.' He thrusted his backpack to me. 'Here take this, it has a few of the artifacts we found in it, along with my notes about them. Please save these few items, they belong in a museum.' I grabbed the backpack and slung it over my back, 'Of course I will Jenson, but there's one thing I have to tell you before I go.' 'What it is it Jesse.' He weakly murmured. 'Jeans don't go with turtlenecks.' I told him. 'I'll keep that in mind.' He whispered. And with that I ran into the desert, bringing Jenson's bag along with me. I had finally completed my mission, and with that I didn't need to stay there any longer. Though I wouldn't forget Jenson, and so I carried out his dying wish. Except the museum wouldn't believe my story, and had a security guard escort me off of the premises, so instead I created this blog. The posts here were formed from the notes left in Jenson's notebook after I escaped. Many of the pages were ripped in my escape, but I was still able to write three posts form the remains of his notebook, so please share this blog with your friends, it is what Jenson would have wanted.
The blog is in memory of Jenson James, Amateur Archeologist