Why the Sistine Chapel is like IKEA; Jesus; & Post Offices

I arrived in Rome today and since i only have one day in Rome, I had to mentally browse over the multitude of options that are available for a day in Rome. Eventually, I decided that I wanted to see the Sistine Chapel, which has the famous ceiling painted by Michaelangelo.

I arrived there, and after checking out the Basilica, which is a large church at the center entrance of the vatican which requires that all people where pants (apparently god had something against knees, because guys and girls in 3/4 pants and capri pants were admitted just fine).

After researching how to get the Sistine Chapel, I found that the only way to see it was to go through the Vatican Museum, which has an entry fee of $7 Euro for students. So I bit the bullet, and paid the money to enter this area. I immediately saw signs for the Sistine Chapel, just as there are arrows pointing to the Mona Lisa in every room of the Louvre. So I started following the signs. I went through room after room of old fine art by people such as Raphael. It was then that I realized that the Sistine Chapel was not coming up anytime soon and that in the Ikea analogy the Sistine Chapel is the checkout counter. I continued to roam
this maze, seeing millions of babies with wings instead of self-assembly furniture. One thing that Ikea and the Vatican Museum have in common is the amount of young children, upset with their plight inside of this maze.

It is not that this old art is not good, but while looking at this art you are surrounded by hoards of families who are only there to see the Sistine Chapel, and are frustrated by being forced through this $7 maze. These people, in their frustration emit a lot of heat which makes the experience even more pleasurable. The whole place reeks of dumbass. Since there are signs to the Sistine Chapel in EVERY room, the children are constantly looking up at the ceiling of every room, all of which are painted, and asking °is this it?°. Sadly for them it is not.

There are also other people, usually couples, who take turns taking pictures of each other in front of famous works of art. As if their presence in the foreground of this photograph is going to hold a candle to the art that has lasted thousands of years. I am glad that couples do not takes pictures in Ikea in front of the bedroom set that they might choose to buy.

After finally reaching the checkout stand, i mean the Sistine Chapel, I found it to be a large room so full of people, each one craning their neck back in some attempt to cause muscle damage, that you can hardly move. You walk down, as close to the center as you can get, and join them in their neck-craning activities. At least for me, chlostrophobia sets in quickly, and i exit the chapel to the outside of the building. BUT NO! Through the door is not the exit at all. The Sistine chapel was not the checkout stand, but instead the warehouse area where you can pull down boxes of made-to-build furniture. After I exited the chapel, I was
bombarded, not with tea light candles and poorly made potato mashers, but with a barage of Jesus paraphernalia to be purchased. You can buy busts, with or without the crown of thorns, posters of bloody jesus, various saints, crosses, keychains. Horrified, I ran out the true exit and in the heat of the moment, purchased a $3.50 coca-cola by accident, not even
realizing what i was doing.

Additionally, the Vatican City as it is called, is essentially a part of Rome, It has the same laws, and is involved in the same economic circle as the city of Rome. Other than its cultural significance, the only modern day thing that separates the Vatican from other parts of Rome is the fact that it has its own postal code. Because of this novelty, there are post offices ALL OVER the Vatican, so that you can send postcards to your relatives back home and have °Vatican City° stamped on them by the postal service.

That is all.