Note: Because the Ropen is connected to Papua New Guinea, the following fictional account takes place there; I feel it necessary to state that I know very little of this place beyond that which I have seen on television and the internet. I hope you’ll accept my apologies, but I do not wish to expend a lot of time and energy to research the land, along with its people and culture(s), mostly because I do not wish to take a great deal of time to write the account, so I ask the reader to excuse me while I lean heavily on generalities and employ an unforgiveable amount of artistic license. In other words, much of what I write about Papua New Guinea and its people will very likely be inaccurate if not downright wrong. However, the account isn’t about Papua New Guinea so much as it is about two types of characters, and my intent isn’t to be strictly factual as it is to be entertaining while I focus on those two characters. So, if you can forgive inaccuracy for the sake of being amused, then please read on.

THE ROPEN JOURNALS

Two American men spent five days in Papua New Guinea and kept journals of the events of each day. Circumstances were such that they both had the same translator/guide, and were therefore together for much of those five days. Despite experiencing many of the same things each day, the journal entries of both men are, let us simply say, a bit different; much more so than the usual variations accounted to interpretive points of view. To better understand why, allow me to introduce the two men as well as three particular beliefs of each man that (for the sake of this account) will be very helpful to know, along with their reasons for visiting Papua New Guinea: Let me first present Jack; a single, well-to-do, 33 year old owner of a used book store who likes to travel and especially enjoys the wonders of nature. Next, let me introduce Phil, an unemployed 24 year old man who’s been kicked out of three colleges, and lives with his religiously fanatic mother. Phil is also single, but only because his fiancé dumped him a year earlier.

Very basically – the three particular beliefs:

Religion (superficial to this account, but added to clarify the characters):
--Jack is unreligious, but does not dismiss the existence of God.
--Phil manipulates and twists the existence of God and arrogantly molds religion to fit illogical paradigms, just as he has been taught to do his entire life.

Science:
--Jack is well read, but when it comes to science, it is safe to say that his interests and knowledge are well within the average. Jack easily accepts a four and a half billion year old Earth, and that all life on the planet evolved during much of that time.
--Phil’s knowledge of science (or anti-science, as the case may be) comes from religious texts, carefully chosen by his home-schooling mother. Phil believes the Earth is 6 to 10 thousand years old instead of billions, and dismisses the theory of evolution, labeling it as both false and evil.

Philosophy:
Jack – “Each to his/her own in a peaceful world”.
Phil – “Must make everyone believe! If only we had the same reign as the Spanish Inquisition”.

Reasons for visiting Papua New Guinea:
--Jack was tired of just looking at photographs and simply wanted to be there to see it for himself.
--Phil is in search of the Ropen, a creature that closely resembles a rhamphorhynchus; a prehistoric winged reptile, extinct for millions of years. Phil erroneously believes that proving the [continued] existence of such a creature will clearly disprove the theory of evolution.

Both men flew in from Australia to Port Moresby where they met their guide/translator. Their guide drove them to a small airport where they took a hopper flight to the jungle they would be exploring for five days. Each man was given his own room in a guest house where they got a good night’s sleep before beginning their five day adventure.

Now that we’ve set the foundation of this account, let’s see what each man wrote in his journal during those five days:

Jack’s Journal – Day 1

        Of all the lousy luck!!!
        I finally find the time to enjoy the wonders of New Guinea, but due to a shortage of guides for whatever reason, I have to share mine with some nut case. During the hop to the jungle, he was badgering our guide with questions about something called a Ropen. I made the mistake of asking him what he was talking about, and got the answer through both barrels.
        After introducing himself as Phil, he described a pterodactyl, or something like it, and said he was in New Guinea to search for it. I told him that it was my understanding that those things became extinct millions of years ago. Phil’s face scrunched up as though he had just sucked on a lemon, and he asked me if I was an evolutionist. I couldn’t help but wonder where such a question came from. Just what is an evolutionist anyway? Someone who evolutionizes? I told him I accepted the theory of evolution, if that’s what he meant. He just shook his head and began to preach about how evolution is false, and kept on preaching, without making any sense at all, until we reached our destination. When we were shown to our rooms at the guest house, he tried to preach some more, but I shut him out with the excuse that I was very tired, which I truly was. I had to take three aspirin to make the headache go away.
        When I came out in the morning to look for our guide, I found Phil harassing the guest house workers with drawings of prehistoric birds. Some of the workers looked at him funny, others fled from him. When our guide showed up, Phil charged up to him, demanding that he be taken to a local tribe so he could question them about the Ropen. Our guide looked at me to see if I minded. I told him I had no objection; I wanted to meet one of the local tribes anyway, and if they kept Phil busy enough, perhaps I could have the guide to myself to show me the sights and wildlife.
        When we reached the tribe, Phil once again began flashing his drawings. Sadly, he insisted that the guide remain with him in case he needed to suddenly head to a possible Ropen location. Our guide apologized to me for the inconvenience, and asked if I didn’t mind paying a couple of the tribesmen a small fee to take me through the jungle. I told him I thought it was a great idea; anything to get away from crazy Phil. While I waited for my temporary guides, I watched every person who glanced at Phil’s drawings shake their head or laugh at him.
        My temporary guides were worth every penny I paid them. They showed me some incredibly astounding sights, and I took many photographs; the insect life alone is phenomenal. I was hoping to photograph a cassowary in the wild, but we did not see any this day.
        When we returned to the tribe, Phil was still energetically trying to find someone who had seen a Ropen. It was clear that most of the people were trying to avoid him. Our guide told me that Phil had no success all that day in finding someone who had seen a Ropen. I wasn’t surprised.

Phil’s Journal – Day 1

        Unfortunately there seems to be a shortage of guides, and I find that I must share mine with an evolutionist. Mother would not be pleased. Jack, as he calls himself, is completely unreceptive to the truth, as are all evolutionists. No matter, I shall not allow him to interfere with my search for the Ropen.
        I showed drawings of a rhamphorhynchus to the guest house servants and then to many natives in a nearby tribe. The response was very encouraging; everyone one who saw my drawings recognized them as something that they have seen in the jungles. They were all quite excited to assist me. Tomorrow I shall ask them to tell me about their sightings.

Jack’s Journal – Day 2

        Before we even had breakfast, Phil demanded we return to the tribe. Again, I raised no objection. Once there, Phil was again running around with drawings in hand, while the people were doing their best to avoid him. I was looking for my temporary guides when I noticed two young men who looked to be in their late teens smiling mischievously at each other, and then running toward Phil, babbling rapidly and pointing at his drawings. Our guide looked at them disapprovingly, and turned to Phil to tell him that the two young men claimed to have seen the Ropen, and wanted to show Phil where. I’m not sure, but I think Phil wet his pants with excitement. After talking to the young men a bit while our guide translated, Phil insisted that they show him where they saw the Ropen. The young men did not move, and the guide explained to Phil that they expected to be paid for their services. Phil threw a tantrum, telling the boys they should be grateful for the opportunity to fight in the battle against evolution. The boys shrugged their shoulders and walked away. Phil went into panic mode, and told our guide he would pay them.
        I went along, thinking I would get to enjoy the sights of the jungle. Again, I was hoping to see a cassowary, but we were moving so fast and making so much noise that I knew it would be impossible. After about a half hour of walking, we reached our destination, and one of the boys distracted Phil by showing him where he claimed to have seen the Ropen while the other threw a small stone into a tree. Several small birds flew off while the young man who had thrown the stone shouted “Ropen, Ropen”, and this time I’m almost sure that Phil wet his pants with excitement. He shouted, and kept shouting, “Did you see it? It was the Ropen!” The guide and I just smiled at each other and kept silent. When he was able to calm himself, Phil insisted that we remain there and help him search for “Ropen evidence”, which he did for nearly the rest of the day. He found a few small bones that no one could identify, but nothing else. I wandered about and took more photos of flowers and insects.
        All the way back to the guest house, Phil rambled on about how he had finally seen the Ropen, and what a glorious day it was, and how evolutionists would eat their words. I took three more aspirin before I went to bed.

Phil’s Journal – Day 2

        Oh glorious day! I have finally seen a Ropen. May the evolutionists drown in their rueful tears. If only mother could have been there with me.
Two native men took us to where they had recently seen a Ropen, and blessings rained down upon us, for as soon as we had reached the site a Ropen flew above a tree, just over our heads. We all clearly saw it; the black leathery wings, the spaded tail. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Unfortunately, it was out of sight before I could get a picture.
        It’s no surprise that Jack quickly made himself scarce so as to avoid apologizing to me. I was going to demand an apology, but decided to be patient. I’m sure he’ll apologize when he is ready. It must surely have been a shock for him to see the Ropen. He is clearly in denial, and it may take a little while before he is able to face the reality of what he truly saw, and renounce his belief in evolution.
        I searched the area for evidence of the Ropen, and found some bones that the native men clearly identified as those of a young Ropen. I shall have them tested as soon as possible. I have no doubt that we shall see another one tomorrow, and I shall have my camera ready. The thrill of it all still has my heart pounding. Oh how shall I ever be able to sleep tonight?

Jack’s Journal – Day 3

        As soon as our guide appeared, Phil demanded that he be taken back to where he imagined seeing the Ropen. Our guide explained that he could not do only what Phil desired when I had also paid for his services. He told Phil that he had planned a very eventful day for both of us. Phil threw a grand and royal temper tantrum, waving his arms, stomping his feet, and shouting about how he wouldn’t allow anyone to interfere with his extremely important research, especially not some vile evolutionist who wanted nothing more than to stop him from finding more evidence of the Ropen. Our guide became a bit impatient with Phil, and offered to give him a refund and send him back to Port Moresby to find another guide. The idea apparently did not appeal to Phil, because he settled down and agreed to do whatever our guide had planned, but remained impertinent.
        It would do no good to note the events of the morning, because Phil did his utmost to make it all as thoroughly unenjoyable as possible. At noon, I told our guide that I would like to see the nocturnal side of New Guinea, and wanted to prepare for it by returning to the guest house for a nice long nap. He thought that was a good idea, so I left a triumphant looking Phil to his care.
        At the guest house, a young girl who spoke English came up to me asking if I knew where she could find the “Ropen man”. She was holding some photographs of what looked like a prehistoric bird, and I asked her about them. She said they were pictures of the Ropen, and she wanted to sell them to the “Ropen man”. I asked if I could look at them. She showed them to me, but did not let go of them. Photoshopping is a hobby of mine, and I could instantly tell that these images had been photoshopped; the shadows were off kilter and the shading was artificial, but I knew they would easily fool Phil, who saw Ropens where there were only small birds. I asked her who had made them. She started to say her brother before stopping herself. She became angry with me until I told her I would buy them instead of the “Ropen man”. She gave me her price, which I paid without haggling. But I explained that the pictures had to be only mine and that if her brother made more, they had to be different than the ones she sold me. She shrugged indifferently, and said her brother never made the same pictures. There were four images: Three were color images; one of a “Ropen” flying, one of a “Ropen” in a small cave, and a close up of the head in the cave. The fourth was an old photo of a New Guinea native holding a dead “Ropen”. Though the old photo appeared to be from the thirties or earlier, the photographic paper was clearly made for use in a modern printer. Using a few tricks I had up my sleeve, I aged the paper to give the image an antique quality, and then took my nap and waited for Phil’s return.
        In the early evening, Phil and our guide returned to the guest house. One of the guest house workers and I had become fast friends, and neither one of us liked Phil, so I knew I could confide in him. I gave him the images, and asked him to deliver them to Phil without giving any reason. He gladly did so. A little later I walked up to Phil while he was looking over the images. I was a bit disappointed that he was not beside himself with excitement. I told him that when he was done with the images, I would want them back. His look clearly indicated that he did not believe the images were mine, still he said, “If I find that they are fakes, you may have them”. I don’t mind admitting feeling a bit frustrated that my ruse failed.
        Still, not all was lost; Phil remained behind while our guide showed me the nocturnal side of a New Guinea jungle, which was nothing less than utterly fantastic. When we returned to the guest house, we saw Phil photographing fire flies. I swear, he was more excited about those fire flies than I was about my sojourn in the night jungle.


Phil’s Journal – Day 3

        With my camera ready, I was prepared to return to the Ropen sight, but my guide refused to take me. I had no doubt that Jack the evolutionist had a hand in the guide’s refusal. Still, I maintained my dignity, and agreed to whatever they wished to do, realizing that my research would have to go in a different direction for a short while.
        Our morning was utterly wasted with observations of painted natives and their pagan ways. I did not hesitate or cease to express how distasteful I found the entire scene. Nor did I cease to berate Jack for interfering with my research. By noon, I had soundly beaten him, and Jack departed, even as a demon that is cast out. The guide and I returned to the Ropen sighting, but sadly I did not see another Ropen, but I did find a few possible nests which I photographed.
        When we returned to the guest house, a servant handed me some photographs, but refused to tell me where they had come from. I was suspicious at first, but after close examination I have determined that they are genuine. Jack had the nerve to claim the photos were his. Will the man stop at nothing to stand in my way? Though it required extraordinary control, I feigned disinterest in the photos so as to mislead Jack; otherwise he would surely try to steal them from me. These photographs will be a grand addition to my book, and further proof that the evolutionists will be unable to dispute. I am not surprised that the contributor remained anonymous, for the fight against evolution can be a very perilous one.

The images were tucked into Phil's journal









        I thought I had finished my journal entry for the day, but how wrong I was. I stepped outside to get a breath of fresh air when I noticed small lights streaking across the sky. I wasted no time getting my camera and taking many photographs of the bioluminescent Ropen soaring over the distant hills. I was nearly overcome by the overwhelming anxiety boiling inside me; so many wonderful sightings, so much indisputable proof. Oh mother, where are you in my moment of greatest glory?

Jack’s Journal – Day 4

        No point in going into the events of the day, I can’t concentrate on them anyway. Phil’s constant preaching against evolution and his unfounded accusations against me were more than I could stand. He made enough noise to scare all the wildlife off for five miles around, simply because our guide refused to obey his every command to help him in his further, yet futile, search for his imaginary Ropen. I was very much hoping to see and photograph a cassowary in the wild. I realize that there was little chance of it happening, but thanks to Phil, there is now zero chance of it happening, especially with a small monsoon blowing in on my final day tomorrow.
        I’m genuinely sorry for what I did to Phil, and regret my lack of self control, but I just couldn’t help myself. I’m not even sure I am myself anymore. I was glad to see that Phil was alright, but I just don’t know how much more of that obnoxious man I can take. I was sure I would be in trouble for what I did, but our guide told me he would take care of everything, and insured me that I had nothing to worry about. He has been a good man, and I trust him. It’s too bad I can’t say the same thing about Phil.

Phil’s Journal – Day 4

        You would think one could give praise for a miracle, but when the miracle occurs as the result of being indignantly pushed off a cliff, such praise seems very hollow indeed. Had there not been a sufficiently large and deep water hole below me, I would certainly be dead right now. It is for the above mentioned unpraiseworthy miracle that I am not. That I still live is an undeniable sign that I have been preserved to continue my work, so that I may win the war against evolution.
        My guide tried to convince me that a venomous serpent was about to strike me, and that Jack pushed me out of harm’s way the only direction he could, knowing that the water hole was below. I, of course, do not believe this blatant lie, because when Jack pushed me, his eyes were filled with murder, not salvation. I shall report him to the authorities as soon as we return to Port Moresby.
        First Jack failed to stop my work, and then he failed to stop me. He shall always fail to stand against me, why will the evolutionist fool not see that? How many times has my mother told me about the evil desperation of such men, and now not only have I seen it with my own eyes, but also experienced it at great peril. No matter though, because I stand for truth, and shall be victorious against them all.

Jack’s Journal – Day 5

        The monsoon was harsher than expected, so we remained in the guest house throughout the day. I had every intention of avoiding Phil until our departure, but there was one more thing I had to do. I approached him and told him to please return my “Ropen” images. I didn’t really want them, but it was necessary to demand their return in order to enforce later actions. With the most pompous arrogance I have ever seen, he told me to go away. He said that he had no intention of giving his photographs to a demonic evolutionist liar and murderer.
        Let me simply say that I did the right thing ... then walked away.

Phil’s Journal – Day 5

        I could have bled to death for as long as I lay unconscious on the floor. Not one single servant lifted a finger to assist me, and the guide all but laughed at me. They are no doubt possessed by Jack’s evolutionist demons. Despite having been pushed off a cliff by him, I am nevertheless shocked that Jack would strike me without the slightest provocation. I’m quite sure my nose is broken. Jack shall spend a good long while in a New Guinea jail, I shall see to that.
        How proud mother shall be of me; I struggled through the most arduous of perils, battled the most determined of demons, and gazed into the very jaws of Death itself to obtain proof of the Ropen’s existence that none can deny. I shall write the book that will deliver the fatal and final blow against evolution, and end the war forever.

End Notes:

Back at Port Moresby, Phil reported Jack’s assaults, but after speaking to the guide, the authorities saw no reason to pursue the matter.

Back in the States, Phil had his bones tested for a hefty fee, only to learn that they were mammalian.

Phil wrote his book. It was filled with stories of him being in constant danger and frequently having to face Death, his numerous—despite the fact that his journal only mentions one—day time sightings of the Ropen (which he was never able to capture with a camera), photographs of suspected Ropen nesting sites, night shots of bioluminescent Ropen (the fireflies), and the “mysterious” photographs that were delivered to him in secrecy and under the “greatest of peril”.

No publisher would touch it.

Phil’s mother spent a large sum of money to self-publish the book, with the added cost of having it placed by a few popular internet book sellers. Phil was ecstatic to see that 50 copies sold the first day.

When Jack saw the book on the internet (and yes, he had been looking), he had an attorney accuse Phil of using (stolen) copyrighted images without permission. Jack produced proof of the copyright, as well as a CD (that the guide had obtained for him) that contained the source images of the “mysterious” photographs. Phil was forced to take his books off the internet to avoid a law suit, and offered to refund the 50 that were purchased, but no one ever claimed the refund. Phil replaced the images with a chapter on the evil plans of dastardly evolutionists, and his mother paid another hefty sum to self-publish them anew. 25 were sold the first day.

Jack has found a way to laugh at the entire episode, and Phil continues to wage his war against evolution with the support of his mother, who will most likely never tell him about the 75 books hiding under her bed.

As a final note, right after Jack left New Guinea, the guide pulled a few strings and contacted Australia, where some good men took Jack out before he headed back to the States and helped him to see and photograph a cassowary in the wild. The photograph is framed and hanging above Jack’s desk with a small brass plaque that reads: “A true prehistoric survivor and real evolutionist.”