The Da Vinci Code 2: Leonardo's Planner

My picture nameI've been thinking a lot about Leonardo da Vinci lately. It seems like everywhere you turn, there's Leonardo, being amazing and inscrutable. Oh well, it could be worse. A few years ago, everywhere you turned you saw Leonardo di Caprio, looking --apparently-- amazing, but being almost completely scrutible. So things are looking up. At Meghan's prodding, I just finished reading The Da Vinci Code, and I'm now reading a book called How to Think Like Leonardo da Vinci. To top it off, they apparently just uncovered da Vinci's secret studio. Yes sir, Leonardo's hot again and I'm getting in on the action. So here I present my first draft for a sequal to The Da Vinci Code, The Da Vinci Code 2, in which they discover da Vinci's D*I*Y Planner and Robert Langdon is inadvertently drawn into another adventure just in time for Christmas hard-cover sales.

Chapter 1:

Robert Langdon awoke to the sound of a phone ringing in the dark. He fumbled for a light, thinking 'Where am I?' As the fog lifted, he realized he was in an ornate hotel room in an unlikely and extremely exotic location. The heavily accented voice on the other end of the phone said:

"Mr. Langdon, I am an enigmatic and mysterious person who will ultimately turn out to be further involved in this plot than I first appear. I am calling to inform you that Leonardo Da Vinci's D*I*Y Planner has been found in his recently discovered studio and that because it vaguely mentions you, you are under suspicion for the murder of the eccentric and much beloved janitor of the Louvre Museum in Paris, M. Jean-Francois Stéréotype. We believe that some obscure and convoluted medieval cult has arisen out of the mists of time to frame you and also to steal some important religious artifact that can be interpreted in a way which trashes the Catholic church, which will have the effect of selling more books. To save time, we have already arranged a pig-headed security chief and a surprisingly attractive and unusually qualified female sidekick. Even though your stories all talk about the devaluing of the sacred feminine, I expect that you will ultimately end up saving her in some unlikely and stereotypically phallo-centric Hollywood ending. We are sending a car for you."

Robert Langdon groaned inwardly. After hanging up the phone, Robert Langdon groaned outwardly and thought of himself using his full name, which he only did when he was very frustrated. Robert Langdon rubbed his temples in a slightly affected way, pushing his long hair back, revealing both his academic good looks and his slightly graying hair, which he knew placed him in the ideal category of Slightly Father-Like But Still Sexy, which was what got him so much action with attractive women with Daddy Abandonment Complexes on his various adventures. Ever since his experience at the Vatican, gratuitously mentioned here in an effort to cross market that book as well, Robert Langdon had had to deal with an almost endless stream of religious iconographers and other weirdos, which often placed him in extremely unlikely, but always formulaically similar circumstances, where his skills as a symbologist, otherwise completely useless, became absolutely essential.

"Why does this happen every week?" he thought to himself, as he pulled on his Harris Tweed jacket, wondering whether he would survive the perils the evening surely had in store for him. "And what the hell is Harris Tweed?" he thought.

Chapter 2:

Jean-Francois Rene Jean-Luc Jacques Etienne Leroy Stéréotype lay prone on the floor. Robert Langdon's surprisingly photogenic and uncommonly lithe partner stood beside him, looking down at the old man who was stretched out on the floor of the Louvre cleaning supply room. Cindy Jones stifled back a tear. "He was my grandfather," she said. He was positioned roughly like Ozzy Osborne on the cover of his Down to Earth album with 14 bullet holes in him and Scarlet Harlot lipstick on, gently pointing with one finger to some writing on the floor. It read:

Robert Langdon did it. It was Robert Langdon. He did. Go and arrest Robert Langdon, because he's the one who did it.

"This doesn't look good, Mr. Langdon", said Cindy.

"Call me Robert," he said.

Chapter 3:

Robert Langdon peered in astonishment at Leonardo's Ver. 3 D*I*Y Planner, trying to reconcile what he knew of the great master with what he saw before him. The message he had just decoded from Leonardo's planner was something men were willing to kill for, a glimpse into the mind of one of the smartest men who ever lived, an insight The Educator believed would help him debunk centuries of religious misinformation and control the world. It read:

Michelangelo’s mother wears army boots.

Robert Langdon thought he would be disappointed.

Chapter 4:

Cindy Jones and Robert Langdon gazed at each other in a sexual, but ultimately unfulfilling way, confident that they had just saved the world from, uh…something really bad. Just like the last time. In the Vatican. Yeah.

"I wonder if Tom Hanks will play me in this movie too?" wondered Langdon.

Well, that's my best shot. It's still a rough draft, you understand. I welcome any comments, as well as all lucrative endorsement deals. Until next time, keep your pen on the page and your messages enigmatic.

Steve Sharam

p.s. For our American friends wanting to give the world a hug, this would be a good time to sign the petition to your government representatives and ask them to keep their promises from last year on third world debt forgiveness.

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What is a Harris tweed jacket...

...About 400 USD off the peg; more if one's tailor runs it up. :P

Funny a nightmare about turning into a woman just woke me. Synchronicity or a reason not to read Woolf before retiring to bed?

Langdon is obviously suffering from a mid-life crisis. He has to use his full name several times in order to establish he is real and not a figment of da Vinci's genius(*). He refers to his readers as 'weirdos' yet fails to grasp the irony. When confronted with Jean-Francois Rene Jean-Luc Jacques Etienne Leroy Stéréotype's prostrate corpse his mind turned to girls and the ex-leader of Black Sabbath rather than St. Peter Martyr. Who, I may add, famously wrote; I believe Carino the assassin did it... :O

Tom Hanks? Heh you must be joking. I say Frank Lagella should repise his role as Clare Quilty.

(*)Since discovering the world of 'productivity' I am now under the the slightly psychotic delusion that far from being a genius da Vinci was suffering from 'post-traumatic-constant-over-achiever-syndrome'. Nurse! Please tighten the restraints on my Harris tweed strait jacket I need the feeling of security it brings...


$400USD? that's insane... too much for my tastes. All you need to do is find a jacket that LOOKS professorish and then attach (sew, paste, etc) patchy-material (tweed or denium or cordory or I suppose polka dots and neon colors could work) to the elbows for the same effect.

* Getting a jacket from Goodwill could cost $5.00
* Buying fabric scraps at JoAnn Fabric stores could cost $10 (depends on how fancy pants the fabric is and how big yer elbows are)
* Sewing or getting a friend to sew them on for FREE

Why not DIY and make yer own CUSTOM Tweed jacket? You could even build in sekrit pockets to hold ninja Moleskines and pens.


Ninja Tweeds, how 007...

I love your thinking innowen. Although I hate to think of the Scottish islanders starving, I hate the thought of me starving more.... :O


Well, yeah, pretty much. If Leonardo had had Harris Tweed, he might have exploded:|

Steve Sharam

Third world debt forgiveness comment is an intrusion here

I would like to gently and respectfully request that we keep politics out of this blog.
Subjects like the generosity of America or America keeping its promises(?) should be discussed by those who want to, but please not here.
I enjoy the GTD, Moleskinerie and similar blogs because it takes me away from the political and opinion blogs, which I frequent when I want a blood pressure boost.
This comment is an intrusion here.
best regards

best regards

Well, if Leonardo would have

Well, if Leonardo would have had Harris Tweed he would have loved it...

Read Gelb's book back in 2000...great book