The facade of the British Museum. I think (but am not sure) that the figures are meant to represent different aspects of science, with the golden astrolabe being astronomy. Further investigation will be needed, and considering I only made it through ten of the eighty-something rooms of the Museum in three and a half hours today, I'm going to have plenty of time to investigate.
A World War One memorial to the staff of the Museum who died in World War One. The verse is from Laurence Binyon's
For the Fallen, which is traditionally read at Armistice Day ceremonies across the world. Britain is obsessed with its national wars, I've noticed; in every little town and every tiny churchyard there's a memorial to the men who died, as if their national tragedy was so great that no number of memorials can ever ease the pain.
A silver lyre from the civilization of Ur, where the inspiration for the Tower of Babel once stood.
An Assyrian lioness, constructed to serve as a guardian for a temple of one of their goddesses. This thing was huge; six feet tall from paw to shoulder at least.
The six-and-a-half-ton Lion of Knidos, located in the Grand Court of the Museum. Removed from an ancient Turkish funeral monument, it originally perched on a rocky headland and may have had glass or metal embedded in its eyes, which served as a navigation aid for sailors trying to find their way around the rocky coast.
The facade of the British Museum. I think (but am not sure) that the figures are meant to represent different aspects of science, with the golden astrolabe being astronomy. Further investigation will be needed, and considering I only made it through ten of the eighty-something rooms of the Museum in three and a half hours today, I'm going to have plenty of time to investigate.
A World War One memorial to the staff of the Museum who died in World War One. The verse is from Laurence Binyon's For the Fallen, which is traditionally read at Armistice Day ceremonies across the world. Britain is obsessed with its national wars, I've noticed; in every little town and every tiny churchyard there's a memorial to the men who died, as if their national tragedy was so great that no number of memorials can ever ease the pain.
A silver lyre from the civilization of Ur, where the inspiration for the Tower of Babel once stood.
An Assyrian lioness, constructed to serve as a guardian for a temple of one of their goddesses. This thing was huge; six feet tall from paw to shoulder at least.
The six-and-a-half-ton Lion of Knidos, located in the Grand Court of the Museum. Removed from an ancient Turkish funeral monument, it originally perched on a rocky headland and may have had glass or metal embedded in its eyes, which served as a navigation aid for sailors trying to find their way around the rocky coast.
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