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Date: | Sat, 16 Jun 2007 09:46:14 -0100 |
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Roady,
Ha... working yesterday in cemetery on modernist oversize orange juice
squeezer (mortuary chapel) & client there suggests we build a
sarcophagus over it like for Chernobyl. Seems the thing has leaked water
since it was built in the 70's. Sets me off on a story about Chernobyl
(I seriously suspect the dark green goo Georgi kept pouring into our
vodka was Wormwood/Absinthe.) I end my story to comment that the arcade
that surrounds the chapel would make a wonderful base for a geodesic
dome. As the day progresses, and we learn more about what has been going
on over the years with the degradation of the chapel, the goedesic dome
begins to look more and more optimal.
The architect of this chapel is buried in a nearby crypt. Later in the
day in phone conversation with another architect the nearby burial is
taken note of and it is agreed that at least one architect will
incorporate into their practice that they be buried somewhere obscure
and far away from the manifestation of their design.
I was told months ago when I first visited the cemetery an in-house joke
that when business gets slow they talk about opening the chapel to the
public... stuff falling from the ceiling. (I will send photo of stuff
back channel and you can decide how dangerous it is.) I also find out
that someone has invented some sort of chemical that when poured on a
body turns into into a dark green goo, bones eyeballs and all, and that
the deceased can then be flushed down the toilet. This science seems to
have those in the cemetery business concerned for the competition. Then
there is a discussion about how your dog cannot be buried with you, but
you can be buried with your dog. The way it works is that you get
cremated and your ashes go in the dog's casket in the pet cemetery...
whalla! But dogs turned to ashes cannot be buried with you in the human
cemetery. "Here lies Fluffy with her companion Doris."
In middle of day a woman (Mary) comes in through one of the open doors
in what approximates the street variation of bedroom clothes with
slippers -- it is stuffling humid inside and we need ventilation, the
chapel needs ventilation -- she says that she owns one of the windows,
then runs over to it and prays. Then she comes over to me and spends
fifteen minutes telling me the history of her love affair with the
priest that the window is dedicated to. The guy was a diabetic and had
lost all toes but one big one on his right foot which caused him to have
balance problems when standing. I listen patiently, and learn about
blood transfusions, because I really do want to know what it means to
own a window. Then the Bob Marley ringetone on my cell phone went off
and she ran out of our lives as quickly as she had arrived.
I found it interesting that I had to explain to a young architect what a
sarcophagus is. Usually I am the one that has no clue what the
architectural terms mean. Gosh, I feel happy that I can even spell the word.
The entire valley here is cemetery after cemetery, very pastoral. Lots
of green space, stones tastefully arranged and trees. Located adjacent
to an incredibly large medical facility (the shortest route to the Home
Depot is through the campus -- which also contains a rather elaborate
emergency response training center... those odd collections of buildings
that the firemen use to practice on -- when do we get to restore
them?)... and well within the 30 mile radius of the Indian Point nuclear
reactor.
][<
Rudy Christian wrote:
>][< wrote:
>
>
>
>>Is this a call for a very very long moment of silence?
>>Is it ok to whistle?
>>
>>
>
>So maybe this is the time to relay the information from a friend not seen
>for years, department head from my previous employer who has become an
>incense commonsewer:
>
>Chernobyl translated is Wormwood.
>
>Maybe we need some......
>
>Roady
>
>--
>To terminate puerile preservation prattling among pals and the
>uncoffee-ed, or to change your settings, go to:
><http://listserv.icors.org/archives/bullamanka-pinheads.html>
>
>
>
--
To terminate puerile preservation prattling among pals and the
uncoffee-ed, or to change your settings, go to:
<http://listserv.icors.org/archives/bullamanka-pinheads.html>
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