Cairo (1947)… here I am on a dig at King Tut’s Tomb. Found this photo in the attic and was immediately transfixed…trembling in the throes of crypto-nostalgia. Why I’d almost forgotten my former life as an archeologist and my frequent trips to Egypt. Mind you, this was back when Cairo was Cairo. Ahh, those balmy nights aboard a pleasure boat (a converted death barque) drifting down the Nile… sipping hashish and smoking champagne beneath the loony moon. (Yes, we were quite stoned back then, but we were young, reckless, and deeply disturbed.)
You may laugh when I tell you my camera was a box Brownie. But I was able to capture some remarkable shots by torchlight inside the tomb. Alas, the photographs were lost in London when my luggage was stolen from the ship by a band of masked assassins. (No, they were never apprehended and the whole affair was rather fishy, I daresay.)
Breaking into a tomb is no picnic (it’s like trying to type hieroglyphs at an ATM machine), but we persevered. This photo—taken by my friend Lord Charles Wisner of Oxford—shows the effects of the 24-hour curse I caught after my initial entry into the Ra library.
Evangelicals claim to see satanic apparitions in the photo, although I remain skeptical.