At least according to South Africa's "People" magazine dated April 11 to May 1. According to the article the diaries were "found in an ancient ship-like wreck about 32 kms from Mount Ararat" "immediately below the mountain of Al Judi, named by the Koran as the final resting place of the Ark" by Professor Horace Ventor (no origin or organization given) and Dr Vito Fontes "a leading Italian archaeologist and linguistic expert".

425 b.c. Day One

Dear Diary,

First day at sea. Whew! Just made it under the wire. The animals seem happy, but the lions and tigers are beginning to become restless, and it was a bad idea to put the rhinos, hippos and elephants on the starboard side, and the birds, insects, gerbils and hamsters port. Took some work to 'straighten" that one out, har har. Too tired to talk to God tonight. (Get Him started about the furies of His judgement, and He just goes on and on...) So, off to bed...

425 b.c. Day Three

Dear Diary,

Rain has stopped, finally, and there's not a whole lot of land left to see. Saw a whole village's worth of people, all tied together in a pitiful attempt to save their own lives through common struggle. Sure glad I read those books about building my own shelter and surviving the Apocalypse; now if I can figure out what "canned rations" and "ferroconcrete bunkers" mean, I'll be in business.
Shem lost his left hand to one of the lions yesterday. God provided food, all right: a thick, mealy white powder that you could almost eat if you added a little salt water. The budgies didn't like it, though, and the koala bears kept yelping for fresh eucalyptus leaves.

425 b.c. Day Seven

Dear Diary,

Time to sweep the decks. No time to write.

425 b.c. Day Seventeen

Dear Diary,

G-d decided to "help" by giving my the power to understand the animals' speech. Imagine over fifteen thousand married couples, forced to live in cramped and confined conditions, squabbling over how much yummy white powder mixed with sea water they get to have. They also whine about how good they used to have it, on the green earth, eating trees and nuts and berries and each other. Can't sleep at night.

425 b.c. Day Twenty-Two

Dear Diary,

Got so sick of white powder that we skinned and ate the unicorns. This caused quite a ruckus in the equestrian section, and morale among the cows and chickens has sunk to a new low. G-d has helped the situation somewhat by confusing the thoughts of the higher primates, thus keeping them from undoing the knots on their cages. Only problem is that they know they're being kept from thinking, and all I hear are anguished cries of "What are they _doing_ to us?" Meat was stringy anyway, and tasted like sandal thongs.

425 b.c., Day Thirty

Dear Diary

Can't sleep. Can't eat. Quelled mutiny by executing the centaurs as an example. Oldest son has developed strange religious beliefs based upon the frustrated mating cycles of our hyenas. Sight of humpbacked whale off port bow excited animals into thinking that G-d had sent it to destroy me and my family. Daughters are tempting me with their wicked ways. The night has a thousand phantoms that torment my soul.

425 b.c., Day Thirty-Eight

Dear Diary,

I can't be-LEEVE what happened today. You know Bobby Forester,that rilly cute guy in chemistry class? Get this: he walkd over to where Sondra and I were talking, and he asked me out to the new James Dean movie with him! G-d, can you be-LEEVE it? Sondra was _mortified_! (And I know she digs guys with motorcycles, like, you know she went to see "Wild One" something like twenty jillion times? She's gonna grow up to be a skag, doncha know...) So now she's mad a me, but I gotta get some new crinolines because my old ones got chocolate syrup poured on them last week at the drive-in, so....

425 b.c. Day Thirty-Nine

Dear Diary,

Becoming steadily less connected with day-to-day matters. Read yesterday's entry: thought someone else had written it. Had vision of strange birds. Have forgotten what land looks like. See no hope: G-d has forsaken me. Tomorrow I shall go into the hold and begin putting the animals out of their misery, and ending this charade once and for all. I shall begin with the gryphons and dragons.

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