Sometimes the mystery is better.

Yet another twist in the story of the Shroud of Turin: scientists want to use a new carbon-dating technique to prove "once and for all" (another strange little collection of words) its authenticity. Story here.

I really, really want it to be real. So badly, in fact, that I'd prefer if they didn't test it anymore, and we all just sort of took it on...oh, I don't know, faith...that it is.

If you've spent any time on this site, you've been fairly deep inside my head (sorry). So that statement may surprise you. Being a mental neo-cubist and all, I've conducted some lively debates with myself about exactly who Jesus was. No. Make that "what" instead of "who." (Yeah, I thought the week before Easter was a great time to stir the pot on this.) I'm pretty bought in to what he did, and the message he conveyed, and the people he helped. I don't think you can do much better than to hold yourself to the ideal he laid out for us. The rest of it--how he got here and then how he came back--I will leave to the theologians to wrangle.

Even with all my questions, though, I want that shroud in Italy to be his. Why? I wish I could tell you. But I suspect that fact speaks volumes about which side of the mental fence I'm actually on.

And that's going to keep me up all night. Ah, well. Something had to. Might as well be this.