“If most of the Hebrew males wore long hair and beards anyway, why was there a need for the razor ban?” pondered Wen.
“Ah, is that the sound of trumpets scaling the ramparts of heaven?”
“What are you talking about?”
“A question of questions, young Wendolina, the answer to which may serve as a stunning proof of our original assertion.”
“Your original assertion, which was posed as a question anyway. And I’m older than you are.”
“Yes, yes, dearest Wendlebury. There was a need in order to achieve assimilation. The original model for Samson wasn’t Gilgamesh at all, it was his ‘alter-ego’, the wild-man, Enkidu, who in the words of birds-feet etched into tablets of baked-clay over five thousand years ago, possessed long hair like a woman and an excessively hairy body.”
“If I wasn’t so confused, I’d be tempted to jump up and down,” says Wen.
“Two-thirds animal, one-third man.”
“Ah,” says Wen, the light of comprehension settling down to roost in her visage, “I knew the British Museum would be a good idea.”