It’s like choosing a vacation spot when you think about it.

Siberia or the Bahamas.

Antarctica or Paris.

Six Flags New Orleans or Disneyland. T

he Museum of Bad Art or The Louvre.

One wonders why these choices seem to produce so much angst and difficulties.

I’m reminded of that scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. At the end where they find the hidden temple and the Holy Grail. The Nazi soldier chooses the shiny gold cup instead of a humble carpenter’s cup, drinks hoping to gain immortality but dies instead.

The last Templar Knight days, “ he chose…. poorly" with this look on his face that just screams “what a dumbass".

Ah, Classic.

Good article Jessica.