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Friday, February 07, 2003
Gallery of Goofs
WARNING: Most of these links not suitable for viewing at work, unless you think you can get away with it by a suitable show of pacific passion.
James Morrow helpfully links to this site which is a page of news on stripping events (for peace, natch, you pervs). Currently it contains an address that you can contact if you'd like to participate in a nude peace photo in which couples will embrace ("Make Love Not War"---ahhh, an oldie but moldy). There's no word on whether you have to bring your own mate or if you'll be able to find one at the scene.
It also links to this site, which has a gallery of photos of public peace nudity. These people have cheated, being fully clothed. Note how the colors distract you, making it harder to see the words.
Here we see something resembling actual sacrifice. They're lying down in the snow. At least, that's what it says on the first web site; could be white sand, though it's not likely in Champaign.
This is actual white sand, in which trained seals have beached themselves to spell out "Salaam" in Arabic. At least the seals are color-coordinated. Add your own joke about the apparent bleached bones in the upper right.
Now, when I saw this picture (WARNING: NO NUDITY), I immediately thought of the (non-)classic science fiction flick, Attack of the Giant Leeches. In that movie, the leech costumes were played by black plastic garbage bags, or would have been, if those had been invented at the time. In any case, by the time the movie ran on MST3K, the classic black hefty bag had been developed (by Dior, who licensed it to Hefty), and that's how Kevin Murphy became a leech. (Sorry, I could find no pictures of this.)
Where was I? Oh, yes---try and guess what these are supposed to be. Go straight to the gallery page to see if you were right.
You know, these pictures remind me not only of Spencer Tunick's work, but of Emil Petaja's novel The Nets of Space. In it, mankind's first (I believe) encounter with extraterrestrial life involves giant intelligent crabs who deliberately catch other intelligent species for food. There's a scene at a party in which two of the crabs are remarking upon this new source of food. One says that the pink ones tend to be fatty, and the yellow ones small, but the dark ones are just right. Meanwhile, down in the giant potato chip bowl, the last of the humans---naked, salted, with "crumbs" (i.e., limbs, heads) scattered about---try feebly and unsuccessfully to escape. (Don't worry, folks, there's a giant seafood boil at the end. I think.)
I read this book during a business trip in which I got eight hours of sleep in the course of seventy-two hours, so it's possible I hallucinated the whole thing.