John Hancock
noun
Hancock, John.
Informal. a person's signature:
Put your John Hancock on this check.
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Terry
looked at the image. The Declaration of Independence
in all its digitally presented glory.
More specifically, he looked at one single signature; the most famous
one, that of John Hancock. It was much
bigger and more ornate than the others, and was usually what most people saw
when they looked at the old document.
Historians
told a few stories about why the signature was so large. Some gave a story about how he said his
signature would be legible for the British, and that he would gain notoriety because
of it. Most said it was simply how he
signed his names.
Terry
knew that there was more to it though. The
very fact that it was how he signed everything in such an ornate manner was
evidence of that. Who signed their name
like that? Someone who was hiding
something, that’s who. He had no idea what
was being hidden, but there was something.
Those
lines hid a secret that was crying out to be discovered, and Terry was the only
person who realized it. But what? Terry was still trying to figure that out. There was no map hidden in the ink. Or at least, none that could be seen on the
screen. Maybe he would find something if
he saw the document in person. But that could
wait until later.
Maybe it
was a calling card for some hidden organization? Like the Illuminati or the Free Masons. It was the flourish that made him think
that. The circle with two vertical lines
was too distinctive to be anything else.
It was just so unnecessary for the purpose of signing your name that it
had to mean something. A signal to other
members of whatever shadow organization Hancock may have belonged to.
Or maybe
the secret was in the ink itself, and the form was just a way of calling
attention to itself? Like, if it was viewed
under a certain kind of light or with a specific lens, it would change. But if that was the case, then there was
nothing Terry could do. He would need to
original document to find anything out.
He might need the document anyway.
But that was, obviously, impossible, so he would have to hope the
signature’s secret was something he could discover from behind a computer
screen.
He
zoomed in as much as he could, studying the blurry, pixilated image as well as
he could. Was that oddly colored line a
part of another word, or was it just the result of poor image quality? Was that light splotch filled with meaning,
or was it a stay pixel? There was no way
he could tell. He sighed and zoomed back
out. It was clearer, but much harder to
see the hidden details.
Terry
leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.
He was getting nowhere. The
secrets of John Hancock’s signature were eluding him. But he knew it was there. He knew it down to his very bones. Knew it like he needed air to live. The problem was not a lack of secrets,
no. His problem was the lack of
equipment. He needed better equipment to
study the documents with. He needed the
actual document in front of him. Things
to analyze them. Ways of studying the old
papers that went far beyond what he could do with a home PC and Google.
Terry
firmed his resolve and started planning how he could acquire such things. He still had a lot of work to do if he was
going to find the truth.
*******************************************
Ah, conspiracy nuts. Is there any form of entertainment better? Okay, yeah, there is, but still. Some of these guys can be pretty fun to watch. Such ridiculous ideas, and they stand by them with absolute certainty. It's great fun to watch, as long as you have enough common sense to not be taken in by them.
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