Many cultures produce incredible works of art and then deliberately include a small flaw. The rational being only God can create perfection and this insures our humility in spite of great talent. I called my work perfect once. It was a treehouse in my grandmother's back yard. I climbed down to answer the call to dinner, put hands on hips and pronounced to the heavens ' It's Perfect! ' A few seconds later this low creaking amplified into a resounding crash of timbers and plywood.It's a decent book, hubric title <img src="/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />