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375
The Book of the Damned
·
Charles Fort
154
Any
old
chunk
of
metal
that
measures
up
to
the
standard
of
"true
meteoritic
material"
is
admitted
by
the
museums.
It
may
seem
incredible
that
modern
curators
still
have
this
delusion,
but
we
suspect
that
the
date
on
one's
morning
newspaper
hasn't
much
to
do
with
one's
modernity
all
day
long.
In
reading
Fletcher's
catalogue,
for
instance,
we
learn
that
some
of
the
best-known
meteorites
were
"found
in
draining
a
field"--"found
in
making
a
road"--"turned
up
by
the
plow"
occurs
a
dozen
times.
Someone
fishing
in
Lake
Okeechobee,
brought
up
an
object
in
his
fishing
net.
No
meteorite
had
ever
been
seen
to
fall
near
it.
The
U.S.
National
Museum
accepts
it.
If
we
have
accepted
only
one
of
the
data
of
"untrue
meteoritic
material"--one
instance
of
"carbonaceous"
matter--if
it
be
too
difficult
to
utter
the
word
"coal"--we
see
that
in
this
inclusion-exclusion,
as
in
every
other
means
of
forming
an
opinion,
false
inclusion
and
false
exclusion
have
been
practiced
by
curators
of
museums.
There
is
something
of
ultra-pathos--of
cosmic
sadness--in
this
universal
search
for
a
standard,
and
in
belief
that
one
has
been
revealed
by
either
inspiration
or
analysis,
then
the
dogged
clinging
to
a
poor
sham
of
a
thing
long
after
its
insufficiency
has
been
shown--or
renewed
hope
and
search
for
the
special
that
can
be
true,
or
for
something
local
that
could
also
be
universal.
It's
as
if
"true
meteoritic
material"
were
a
"rock
of
ages"
to
some
scientific
men.
They
cling.
But
clingers
cannot
hold
out
welcoming
arms.
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