Re: Plasticized Corpse Exhibit
The Runner wasn't gross, it was resplendant and glamorous and dazzling
and glorious and yes, gray, although the others PROBABLY were in full
color, as are the other examples of plasticization I have seen. The
muscles were all flayed off and flapping in the wind, the naughty bits
dangling and blown, all frozen in an instant that implies movement and
speed as well as any sculpture I've seen. It made me shiver to briefly
imagine an Arlington Cemetary of sculpture, row upon row of tasteful
artistry all far to complex and meaningful for me to have ever imagined
on my own; I could feel the hair on my neck rising just thinking of so
much extravagant, preternatural beauty surrounding my imaginary walk for
miles in all directions and evoking the same inexplicable sensations as
being amidst the Totem Collection in the Chicago museum, all shivery and
reverent and venerative and eerily interrelated.
I imagined the procedure becoming de rigueur among the wealthy, opening
up new oportunities for creative artists and changing the landscape of
the mortification, of the mortician's art; new techniques of mortice
developed to secure and display the actual bodies, the dissolution of
tombstones. The masses, disposed to emulation of the wealthy, would
follow fashion and flaunt grandiose, majestic, elaborate displays, all
shrugging off this mortal coil to leave eternal personalized testimony,
some pompous and bloated, some as dramatic and pretentious as this post.
I spent nearly three minutes caught up in this chimera when I realized
that Usenet was a more realistic indication of how the great unwashed
masses would transform my imagery, how Arlington would become mile after
mile of "Me too, add me to the list", ingenuity and originality replaced
by "Uh huh uh huh I'm gonna be blowin' myself for all eternity, huh huh
huh..." It's just too awful to think about.
Rev. Magdalen, I been participating only marginally in alt.slack for the
past few weeks and missed your arrival; you seem quite well suited to the
enterprise. Welcome.
Rev. Random the Other
Gription Clench
reverand@mindspring.com
"Truth's smile when she beholds her face in a perfect mirror..." Hey, I can DO that!