Keep My Words

The Shuar people of Ecuador believed that when one of their people died, the individual’s death was probably the result of the sorcery of his enemies in the neighboring Achuar village.

Once the killer’s identity was determined by a shaman under the influence of a hallucinogenic drink, a family member of the victim would hunt down the enemy, kill him, and perform a tsantsa (head-shrinking) ceremony. But these were not trophies of war for the Shuar people – they believed that the enemy’s spirit could be trapped inside of the tsantsa preventing the soul from avenging its death.

A few months ago at the Mütter Museum in Philly, Andrea observed that the tsantsa on display had very nice hair. I also have very nice hair. It is with this consideration, along with my current financial state, that has led me to consider selling my head after my body’s natural death to someone wishing to partake in the process of head-shrinking.

Below are instructions on how to make your very own tsantsa, although I urge you not to seek out the head of your enemy, as this would be frowned upon in most places.

Supplies:

a human head
a scalpel
a needle and fine thread
pins (straight or safety)
a butter knife
a boiling pot
stones
sand
a machete
decorative, thick string (for the final sealing of the lips)

Instructions:

1. Make an incision on the back of the neck, and carefully cut up the rear of the head, allowing the skin to be peeled from the skull.  Delicately remove the skull and discard it.
2. Sew the eyes shut with a fine fiber.  Skewer the lips shut with pins.
3. Remove any fat from the inside flesh of the head with a butter knife.
4. Using a boiling pot, simmer the skin for approximately an hour.  (If you leave it on for any longer, the hair may fall out.)
5. Once removed from the pot, the head should be dark and rubbery and approximately 1/3 of its original size.  After allowing it to dry in the sun, turn the skin inside out and scrape off any adhering flesh with the knife.
6. Turn the head right side out again, and sew the slit in the back together.  What remains should be similar in texture to an empty rubber glove.
7. Heat up some stones.  To further shrink the head and to burn off any excess fat inside, drop the hot stones into the neck one at time while constantly rotating them to prevent scorching.
8. When the head becomes too small for the stones to be rolled around in it, heat up some sand and work with it as you did with the stones, making sure to get the crevices of the nose and ears where the stones were too small to reach.
9. Massage the skin to help with drying and to mold it back into a head-shape.
10. Repeat this process until the head is about a quarter of its original size.  (This can take up to six days.)
11. Apply hot stones to the exterior of the face to seal the shape and features.  Hang the finished product over a fire to harden.  Heat a machete and touch it to the lips to fully dry them.
12. Once hardened, remove the pins from the lips and replace them with dangling string of your choice.  You may now decorate the head and style the hair as you wish.

If you are interested in making an offer to purchase my head, please contact me.  I have no worries about the trapping of my spirit, as I believe she resides in my sock drawer.  However she does take monthly visits to the shoe containers under my bed to see what’s new.  (My spirit loves a great pair of shoes.)

Tsantsa (shrunken head) (above)

Recently I have come to the realization that being a T-1000 terminator would be a better existence than living life as a human.

I have listed the top five reasons which support this conclusion below:

1. Shapeshifting. In Terminator 2: Judgement Day, viewers witness the T-1000’s mimetic poly-alloy body transform into multiple characters throughout the film.  This is how it gains trust in order to obtain desired information or access to certain areas.  Some may think this a very deceptive and dishonest means of getting what one wants, but I would never use it for harm.  I see it simply as a way to help others (“I might not be able to help you move your sofa, but I know a big strong man that can be of assistance!”) and accomplish various household tasks that I am either phisically too weak to do, or too short, etc.
2. Fashion and accessories. The T-1000 has the capability to extrude small, simple items from itself.  In the movie, the T-1000 creates a helmet and a pair of sunglasses as needed.  The mimetic poly-alloy could also simulate clothing.  Those who know me well are aware of my obsession with new dresses.  Additionally, I enjoy accessorizing with cute shoes and jewelry.  It thrills me to imagine how easy styling myself could be if I were made of mimetic poly-alloy.  Because I could transform my body without difficultly into a human dressed in any outfit imaginable, closet space would never be an issue.
3. Liquifying abilities and assuming other forms. In T:2 we see the T-1000 liquefy to fit through narrow openings, walk through prison bars, flatten itself on the ground to hide, and morph its arms into blades.  That considered, losing house keys would never be a problem, as I could just liquefy and slide underneath my door or walk through the bars of my front gate.  If faced with danger I could calmly melt and hide.  And when in need of the perfect kitchen knife for a particular job, I could transform my hand into the best tool.
4. Wounds heal rapidly. The film portrays numerous scenes in which the T-1000 is shot, dismembered, and shattered, but its fragments flow back together with ease.  I often fall apart in one way or another.  Picking up the pieces is an arduous task, and I usually lose a bit of myself in the process.  As a T-1000, I would be eternally whole; unbroken.
5. Absence of human emotion. In Terminator 2, the T-1000 possess a large range of emotional expression and interpersonal skills, but it certainly does not feel the sentiments of a human being.  Lately I have been sifting through unfortunate sadness, confusion, and regret.  This is not to say that I am devoid of all merriment, but the aforementioned emotions are at times so dominating that they arrest my abilities to accomplish educational and professional tasks.  It is with this mindset that I recognize the extreme benefits of being a T-1000 as opposed to a human being.  Without these feelings, efficiency in all that I do would never be influenced emotionally.

Oh how I wish I was a T-1000.

T-1000, mimetic poly-alloy (above), in human form (below)

In late-July 2008, 19-year old Katy was reunited with her 3-year old son, Rocky.

Prior to their reintroduction, they were both living and working in Hollywood in the entertainment industry.

Katy and Rocky are orangutans.

Both apes were formerly owned by a private company in Los Angeles that specialized in providing trained animals for entertainment and advertising. Rocky, whose resume includes a photo shoot with Fergie in Elle magazine and a Capital One credit card commercial in which he dons a tiara, is credited as being the most recognized orangutan in entertainment today.

The mother and son’s new address is at the Great Ape Trust, a scientific research institute studying great ape behavior and mental abilities, in Des Moines, Iowa. The move is a result of their previous home, Steve Martin’s Working Wildlife in Los Angeles, discontinuing the use of orangutans in entertainment.

Dr. Robert Shumaker, a scientist and director of the Great Ape Trust, says that the end of the orangutans’ Hollywood career is a matter of conservation and public perception. Shumaker claims the we could easily see the end of orangutans in our lifetime.

“Seeing apes in entertainment may lead people to believe that conservation is not an issue for them,” he says. “If that diminishes concern for conservation, then that’s a problem.”

Currently there are only two surviving species of orangutans: the critically endangered Sumatran and the endangered Bornean. Their endangerment has occurred mostly over the past few decades due to human activities and development. Thousands of orangutans don’t reach adulthood due to human interruption. Orangutans are killed for food while others are murdered because of disruption in people’s property. Mother orangutans are killed so their infants can be sold as pets. Many of the infants die without the help of their mother.

Orangutans and humans share approximately 97 percent the same DNA. Orangutans are highly intelligent primates with advanced reasoning and thinking skills, and they are tool-using creatures. They bear amazing similarities to humans: baby orangutans cry, whimper, and smile just like human babies, and their facial expressions indicate happiness, fear, anger, surprise, and other emotions.

Obviously these apes have the capability to achieve Hollywood superstardom. Still, we won’t see orangutans trying to make it in Hollywood anytime soon.

Katy (above), Rocky (below)

I couldn’t fall asleep last night.

My alarm clock projects the time on my ceiling.  Around 4:15 in the morning, I got out of bed and took two non-prescription sleeping pills.

Still, I did not fall asleep.

My thoughts drifted to the film The Cure for Insomnia. At 87 hours in length, it is the third longest movie ever made. There is no plot.   It simply consists of artist Lee Groban reading his 4,080 page poem over the course of three and a half days, spliced with stock footage from heavy metal videos and clips from pornographic movies.

I have never seen The Cure for Insomnia, although I have felt interest, especially on nights like the last.

Other thoughts came and went. My body was going numb as a result of the sleeping pills, but my mind remained somewhat functional. Another glance at the ceiling told me it was 5:45.

Next my mind wandered to Magicicadas. Earlier in the day, I had told Elliot that I thought they were going to take over the world.

Magicicadas emerge after 13 or 17 years underground in numbers as large as 1.5 million individuals per acre.

As one who fears all bugs, I imagine this a horrifying event to witness.

Often confused with the locust, the Magicicada is actually a type of periodical cicada. These insects have large eyes spaced far apart on the head and transparent, veined wings. They have three small eyes located on the top of the head between the two larger eyes, which match the larger ones in color. Cicadas are usually 1-2 inches long but some species can reach 6 inches.

The genus Magicicada are black with red eyes and yellow or orange stripes on the underside. The veins on the wings are orange. On average, adult Magicicadas are a little over an inch in size.

Once they emerge from their subterranean childhood, they live for only a few weeks, their sole purpose being reproduction. The males sing a mating song using a vibrating membrane called a tymbal. The sounds of this chorus can reach 100 decibels. (This is comparable to a jet takeoff at 1,000 feet away. The level at which sustained exposure may result in hearing loss is 90-95 decibels.) Females respond to the calls with timed wing-flicks, which in turn attract the males.

The next 13-year cicadas are scheduled to emerge in 2011 in the Midwest, Maryland, and Virginia. The next 17-year cicadas are scheduled to emerge in 2012 in western Virginia and West Virginia.

Not to worry – they are harmless insects; they do not bite or sting. They are not venomous, and there is no evidence that they transmit diseases. Although in my half-slumber dreams last night, they stood on hind legs and held machine guns.

I’m feeling self-destructive again. Stuck in circles. Waiting for the Magicicadas to emerge.

Excerpt from The Cure for Insomnia:

I wonder how come
the cartoonists of our most popular newspaper comic strips
never use Polish, Armenian, or Romany Gypsy names for their characters?
Why only Western European names?
“THAT all y’do all day? Soun’s like a drag…”
By the beard of the Lord Eordogh of Ordogkeresztur and Nagyeskulo,
it’s a drag.
By the beard of the Lord Cseffei of Totor and Noszalya,
it’s a drag.
By the beard of the Lord Bethlen of Kallo, Ecsed, Tokaj, Szendo, Murany, Szecseny, and Regecz,
it’s a drag.
By the beard of the Lord Tomori of Devecser, Besenyo, Gyanda, Borsfalva, Csobad, Felso-Homrogd, Also-Homrogd, Hegymeg, Berkes, Szakacsi, Kercs, Senye, Cseb, Nyilas, Abauj, and Borsod,
it’s a drag.
By the beard of the Lord Dolhai of Kereczke, Kusnicza, Zadnya, Kelecseny, Vizkoz, and Okormezo,
it’s a drag.

Magicicadas (above)

The stone walls surrounding the Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia extend ten feet below the surface of the ground.  There is only one entrance through the walls and into the prison.

Construction began on the foundations and walls in 1822.  Seven years later, laws were passed allowing “separate or solitary confinement at labor”.  That same year, 1829, the prison opened its doors and admitted its first inmate.

At the time, many leaders believed that crime was the result of environment, and that solitude would make criminals regretful and penitent.  During rare trips outside of their cells, prisoners would be forced to wear masks to keep them from communicating.  Cells had small “feed doors” and individual exercise yards to prevent contact between inmates and to minimize contact between inmates and guards.

It didn’t take long for Eastern State Penitentiary to reach capacity.  Additionally, people believed that keeping prisoners in intense isolation induced mental illness as opposed to leading to the spiritual actualization and social reform it intended.  By 1913, this belief, along with the overcrowding, caused the prison to abandon the solitary system.

A little over thirty years after Eastern State Penitentiary became a congregate prison, inmate and plaster worker Clarence Klinedinst began planning his escape.  Klinedinst was well-liked by prison staff, and so they allowed him to bring his tools with him to his cell each day after work.  Over the course of a year and a half, Klinedinst dug a tunnel of approximately 100 feet from his cell, under the prison wall, and out to freedom.  The tunnel was equipped with supports, fans, and even lights.  Klinedinst disposed of the excess dirt but filtering it through a tube he inserted into his commode, ensuring that it filtered directly into the sewage system.

On the morning of April 3, 1945, Klinedinst escaped through his tunnel along with twelve other inmates.  All of the men were recaptured, most within a few hours.  At the time of the escape, Klinedinst had two years left to serve.  After his re-arrest, he had ten years added to his sentence.  For the remainder of his time at Eastern State, prison guards (obviously) did not allow Klinedinst to bring his tools with him to his cell each day.

I’ve been feeling strange lately.  Introverted.  Everything is a little off.  It’s like I need to run away and just think, which is confusing to me because I think so much already.

I feel like I’m digging my way into the penitentiary.

In 1965 Federal Government designated Eastern State Penitentiary a National Historic Landmark.  Five years later, inmates were relocated to other correctional institutions and the Eastern State Penitentiary closed its doors as a prison.  It was left completely abandoned until stabilization and preservation efforts began in 1991.  In 1994, Eastern State opened for daily historic tours.

Eastern State Penitentiary (above), Clarence Klinedinst (below)

Bryan Berg holds world records for the world’s tallest house of cards, and for the world’s largest house of cards.  He uses no tape, glue, or tricks, and his method has been tested to support 660 pounds per square foot.

A house of cards is a structure created by stacking playing cards on top of each other.  This method relies on nothing more than balance and friction in order to stay upright. Ideally, adhesives or other external connecting methods are not used, and no damage or alterations are made to the cards themselves. The larger the structure, the more tragic its collapse.  Each balanced card supporting the design is something that could potentially go wrong.

Comparable to Berg’s card towers is Wataru Ito’s origami city model, crafted entirely from paper.  Ito finished building the city in the summer of 2009, after working on it for four years.  At one point, the project became so large that Ito had to sleep under a table in his tiny flat.  The breathtaking creation is approximately 7 x 6 feet wide, and 3 feet tall.  It contains a cathedral, school, factory, theme park, airport, and even a castle.

He plans to burn it down.

Similar to these structures are romantic relationships. The balance relied on is the equality between two people.  There must be strength individually and combined to offer the stability necessary to prevent the collapse.  After years of dedication, it can be a beautifully crafted city.  Still, if there is a repressed arsonist in one of the inhabitants, he/she can light the match at any moment.

However, Berg claims that the more cards placed on a tower the stronger it becomes, because the weight of the cards pushing down on the base (increasing friction) allows occasional cards to stumble without the entire structure collapsing. He also claims that proper stacking technique allows cards to function as shear walls, giving considerable permanence to the structure.

Additionally, of his work Ito says, “I am devoted while I am working on my projects but I quickly lose interest when I complete them… I will burn the castle. I thought I could see it rising up from the ashes if I took a video and played it backwards.”

I have made houses out of cards before, and I have been in romantic relationships.  Neither have been strong enough to stand for an extended period of time, and my stacking abilities or neurosis are likely to blame. I want to play it all backwards; I want to watch the sublime and curious beginning of a relationship rise out of the disappointment and heartache of the end.

One time, I let it fall and it buried me.  Last time, I burned it down and ended up choking on the fumes.

I don’t know what I should do this time.  Sometimes, I think I should just stop building.

Berg working (above), Berg’s tallest house of cards: Cinderella’s Castle (below)

Ito working on his origami city (above), Ito’s completed masterpiece (below)

I wrote this in the late-80′s or possibly very early-90′s:

All about me.

My picture.

My favorite thing to do outdoors: jump rope & swim…

3 things I do well: get green lights, play with people, & math…

Two things I find hardest to do: fly & get A’s on tests…

If I had one wish, I would wish for: a bank of money…

I dream of being: a rock star…

I was at the the duck sitting between Elliot and Andrea when someone mentioned video games.

“I’m not allowed to have video games,” I told them.  “I get addicted, and I end up playing for hours.  It was like that with the first Zelda.  I never won, and I even had the map.”

Andrea shook her head.  “See,” she said, “cheating doesn’t get you anywhere.”

I had a similar conversation on the drive upstate with Dave and Liz.  We were on our way to the house in Medusa to record Sami Akbari’s EP for Mad Hatter.

Eleven of us are here now.

Last night, we finished a bottle of Jameson 12 Year Old Special Reserve in no time. A few of us stepped outside to smoke.  There were so many stars.  We heard what we assumed to be coyotes in the distance.

“I bet they’re shapeshifters.  They’re really people who changed into coyotes,” I observed.

“I like how you think,” one of the boys said.

My favorite shapeshifting occurs in the film Labyrinth.  Jareth, the Goblin King (portrayed by David Bowie), has the ability to transform into a barn owl, as is his state the first time he appears to Sarah (portrayed by Jennifer Connelly).

Another conversation last night included me telling the group that the Goblin King was the first man I ever loved.  He offered Sarah her dreams, still she chose not to be with him.

When I was younger, I had a dream that I was falling through the Helping Hands in Labyrinth on my way to the oubliette.  Upon awakening, my arms were sore from the Hands’ grip.

Also, a night after the one that began this post, I saw Arianna at the duck.  “I read your blog,” she confessed.  “I feel like I am peeking into your consciousness, only you can’t see into mine.”

I have no qualms with this; I don’t mean to hide anything.  I am tired of hiding things.

We have been recording drums all day.  Tonight, I think I’ll hear them in my sleep.

Watch Helping Hands here.

(Legend of Zelda original map, above)

“I wrote something today, but I can’t post it yet,” I told Mitchell.  We were on the L train heading back to Brooklyn after seeing Tori Amos perform at the Grand Ballroom.  “It contains information about someone, and I asked them if I could post it, but they want me to wait until they have a chance to tell more people.  So now I have to write about something else.  What should I write about?”

“Jimmies,” he said matter-of-factly.

Immediately following the Tori Amos show, we went to a bar with Priscilla and David.  Somehow, jimmies came up.

“Why are they called that anyway?” Priscilla asked.

“It’s totally a New England thing,” answered David.

“I have no clue,” I said honestly.  “My iPhone is dying.  Look it up on yours.”

As it turns out, the name is accredited to a man named Jimmy Bartholomew.  Supposedly, in 1930 Jimmy started working for the company that invented the confection.  His job there was manning the machine that produced the sugary treat.  (Another interesting fact that Wikipedia taught us about jimmies: in the Netherlands and Belgium, they are know as hagelslag and are used as a sandwich topping.)

When I was younger, I used to put jimmies, commonly know as chocolate sprinkles, on vanilla ice cream.  More accurately, I used to put vanilla ice cream on jimmies.

My mother had little glass bowls that I loved to use for this tiny meal.  Imagine a cup of chocolate sprinkles topped with a scoop of ice cream.  Often the ice cream would melt before I finished eating it, transforming my dessert into a sort of sprinkle-soup.  It was glorious.

I would hold the glass bowl up and look at all of the cylindrical delicacies drowning at the bottom, awaiting their annihilation by way of my spoon.  Once I was finished, the brown sugary bits would be stuck between my teeth, a rather unattractive sight.  However, this prolonged my snack.  As the jimmies dissolved from my teeth and onto my taste buds, I enjoyed the delicious saccharine aftermath.

These days, when my mother drives up from Virginia, she brings containers of jimmies for me.  I think that she still deems me capable of eating snacks like those that I constructed in the little glass bowls.  Don’t be mistaken – I love dessert, but currently I find it difficult to exhaust a giant tub of chocolate sprinkles.

Or maybe I’m just not trying hard enough.

Jimmies Then (above), and Now (below)

“I haven’t written in so long,” I said.  “Should I write about ‘I Don’t Like Mondays’ or Saint Jerome?”

“Write about ‘I Don’t Like Mondays’,” Rona said.  “Save Saint Jerome for when I need a pick-me-up.”

…

Brenda Ann Spencer was 16-years old when her father gave her a semi automatic .22 caliber rifle as a Christmas gift.

About a month later, on Monday, January 29, 1979, Brenda went to her bedroom window, rifle in hand.  She had a perfect view of the busy schoolyard at Cleveland Elementary.  With her gun pointed towards the schoolchildren, Brenda fired 36 rounds.  Her shooting spree left nine injured, eight of which were children.  Two adults were killed.

A six and a half hour standoff followed, ending in her arrest.  When Brenda was asked what compelled her to do such a horrible thing, she simply replied, “I don’t like Mondays.  This livens up the day.”

Brenda was tried as an adult.  She has been denied parole four times, and will not be eligible again until 2019.

Click here to listen to Tori Amos’s cover of the Boomtown Rats song, “I Don’t Like Mondays”.

Brenda Ann Spencer (above)