Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Dead people

Dead people on mountain tops

The cremated ash of dead people scattered or piled on top of mountains, so where better to be? Part of somebody else's' good idea? So when you expire and capsize, roll off the top, roll and shuffle from this mortal coil to a higher physical plane. Under the big blue sky as your ashes become part of the hill, part of a mountain range, an eternal piece of the bigger picture, caressed by gentle clouds in a heavenly illusion. Few people (if any) are born on top of mountains. Some will never get to the top of any mountain either dead or alive. So it remains that romantic, hill minded outdoor people could at least in death escape to somewhere where their heart can lie at peace (sic). For others, life spent in board or management or production meetings, on the shop floor, in a cab or in a kitchen. Here is a final lone grasp at the elusive, abstract truth that is freedom. Jeremy spoke in class today. Jeremy spoke in class today.

Poor people will not bother. They stay in the clay in the graves of paupers or will squirm as their ash is squirted over some ugly rose bush in a "garden" of obscurity and forget. Rich people will fight death as long as they can afford to and then lose the battle quietly. They may go to the football stadium or penalty spot or mantelpieces or cupboards or into the sea. They may be laid out in a cardboard box and interred at the correct depth to have a tree grow from their stomach. One day that tree will be cut down. But those purple mountains call one and all in a strange way.

Ash stifles the growth, the healthy alpines starve, the grass dries and browns and petrifies, as all their roots fail, the ash chokes the life from them and they give up their grasp of the summit. Winds and frosts, snows and teaming rain, weak sun and blistered mist hack at this tired rock. Black rain has fallen. Your ash has brought about the end; your ash has cracked the strength of the peak, your years now gone are at the heart of this personal rot.

Scientists from the University of Bavarian Soil Design Team have (thanks to EU funding) established all that has ever been said on the matter (of all the above) is completely true and examples can be seen on 1177 European peaks and hilltops. Pope Gregory is of course to be thanked for all of this and the subsequent chanting in the corridor. Dead people's remains’s remaining on mountaintops is not sustainable. Bring your dead back down to earth, to their former battlefields and golf courses, to their back gardens and mausoleums, to their allotments and friendly carrot patches. To the pure all thought is pure, to the impure it is a lottery scratch card.

Some say that Jesus left earth from the Mount of Olives - but he was not made of any kind of ash at this time.

Cryogenics and the Antarctic call out as possible options or places, even just your DNA reflected in a mirror, someday could be regenerated into your actual DNA on this side of the mirror. If the mirror can be preserved and your DNA revitalised them perhaps we can make you into a small blob on a pilot dish. You will not be recognisable, your self-awareness will be very low and being ash on a mountain may seem very attractive but the processes are developing all the time. Come back and surprise your grand children in their own dotage. Think of how many times you could say, "I told your parents so.."

These are your precious atoms, divided and scattered like some lost tribe that has passed the pinnacle of it's civilisation and now runs afraid before the descent of a Dark Age.

No time for electricity or entropy or synergy: living in a modern life.
Not time for prematurity, for shadows or impurity: living in a modern life.
What's mine is mine is mine is mine, is mine is mine is mine is mine: living in a modern life.
Those ashes pass from peak to sea, the dust explores the atmosphere: living in a modern life.

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