Is less more or is less less . . . that is the question. Whether
'tis the possession itself that has merit . . . or the quality of
the possession itself that has worth, is the conundrum that sits
heavily on either side of the scales of value. These are the
questions that torment the troubled if not slightly demented mind of
Is Tut's scepter a symbol of power and sovereignty . . .
destined--no matter the greatness of its wielder--to one day
evanesce into total obscurity only to be remembered by the
intellectuals-du-jour--or is it the forerunner of an item so great
as to one day proliferate the households of all Americans . . . if
not the world?
Is Tut's scepter Tut's scepter . . . with its gold and lapis lazuli
blue glass . . . or is it the forerunner of the peppermint striped
candy-cane destined--not to be held with pride as an emblem of
ultimate control--but rather as an item to be nibbled at with glee
and satisfaction . . . held up to the sunlight while still
glistening with spittle to show one and all: Look what I got.
Or better yet . . . is the ultimate destiny and sole purpose of the
scepter/peppermint striped candy-cane to be one day used as the
moniker of one young lady--friend to Charlie Brown--named Peppermint
Patty? The mysteries of life are eternal.
But since this article is about jewelry and/or its tangential arts .
. . perhaps I should stick to the matter at hand. The scepter
actually comes with a counter-part, which appears to me to be a
flail . . . but being as I try to limit myself to one impossibly
obscure item at a time . . . I shall stick to the scepter.
Still . . . the scepter takes on the shape of a shepherd's crook and
together with the flail is probably used to indicate to one and all
that Tut was the shepherd of his people which he led and protected
with his flail. As an after-thought . . . I have inserted both
scepter and flail in the corner of this week's image so you can get
a view of both.
Speaking only of the scepter however . . . I return to my opening
premise. Is less more or is less less? Is this scepter a bejeweled
thing of beauty to be admired for its daring simplicity . . . or is
it simply a mis-colored peppermint candy cane which--when standing
without its accompanying flail--is nothing more than a condiment
trying to pass itself off as a symbol of royalty? Tut was--if you
think about it--nothing more than a teenager who died at 19 years of
age and who had ruled Egypt since he was nine years old.
Perhaps the candy-cane was invented long before we suspected . . .
and when not waving his symbol of power madly at his people when he
was little else than a mere child . . . he was sucking on its end in
aggravated petulance at not having had his way on that particular
day. Hell--indeed--hath no fury like that of an emperor scorned.
Beware the stripe-ed cane lest its owner unleashes his anger upon
thee with its accompanying flail.
Well . . . maybe it wasn't exactly like that. And then again maybe
it was. In death--I strongly suspect--the worst amongst us are often
depicted as benevolence personified. All of which leads us along
mysterious paths to the final question of the day. Is this article
about a jewelry related topic--keep in mind the lapis lazuli glass
and gold elements here--or is it the misguided rantings of one
Benjamin Mark who starts with jewelry and ends with candy.
Please let me know else I shall lose hours if not eons of sleep. And
that's that. And there it is. And voila. And yabba dabba doo.
Okay. You know the rest. The visit to the image . . . also known as
the viewing experience. You know where. Home page.
. Scroll down. Left side. Tidbits. Click.
And there for your sensory optic pleasure you will see the candy
cane, lapis lazuli blue glass sceptre of one king called Tut.
And there ya have it. That=B4s it for this week folks. Catch you all