- Oct 17, 2018
- 45
- 97
I like to imagine the translator getting up every day and hiking up to the top of a mountain, where he is given cumbersome clay tablets written in Aramaic. Then, he lumbers back down the mountain with his cargo and translates it. Afterwards, he encodes it into a Nazi Enigma machine and radios the translation to another translator. There's no functional reason for him to do it, but it is done anyway. Then, the second translator painstakingly decodes the transmission using a complicated antique computer made of brass and copper.