*** ‘Vignette City’ is an ongoing project of daily writing and urban photography ***
I’ve been reading this book about Marco Polo and it turns out he wasn’t real. I was reading it on the train and got to the part where he said that he encountered these people who weren’t people-shaped. They were shaped like feet. Feet and an ankle I guess, but with faces and little arms sprouting off from the ankles and I was all like, “Well this seems not real”, so I flipped ahead in the book and it turns out that there’s no record of Marco Polo actually existing in Venice and he isn’t mentioned by any of the Chinese scribes who were famous for writing everything down, and that the book he wrote he didn’t even write, it was written by a guy named Rustichello da Pisa who basically only ever wrote legends of King Arthur and stuff like that. But then we got Downtown and it was my stop but I was kind of pissed, so I just left that book on the seat and I got off to head to work, but I mentally added him to the list I keep of fake people who were liars: Shakespeare, Betty Crocker, Jesus, Robin Hood, Homer, the Brontosaurus, Prester John. It’s amazing that anybody expects anybody to get anything done when so much is fake.
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