File spoon-archives/phillitcrit.archive/phillitcrit_1998/phillitcrit.9809, message 31


Date: Wed, 30 Sep 1998 12:49:58 -0400
From: John Young <jya-AT-pipeline.com>
Subject: Re: PLC: Generic equivalent


The skeptics are right, as ever, can't go wrong with skepticism,
right? Whistling away the dread winddown of vain comprehension.

Vonnegut also whistled in the dark, joking that he figured
the docs fictioned his death in order to incur Kurt's maximized
indebtedness, "youse angels saved my life, how can I ever repay 
you? And the whitecoats grinned like priests unctioning extremely,
tote him up, Accounts Receivable, name a ward for his generosity."

Resuscitation, actual and fictional, is and has been great commerce
historically, whoa, that's what history is, peddling right sharp imaginary
tales of being remembered, immortalized, as many revisions as your
bequeathment can fund for fact-packed bio, rouged and embalmed,
immuno-geneo of whatever is fancied in the way of longevity, 
distinguished lineage, pure blood, perfect genes, racial superiorty
assuring civilization's bestest. 

Whoa, that's what art is, and science trails (pun) at, so Kurt and 
Joseph and Susan moan like crippled creatures peddling all they 
got left: embellished aches and pains and fancy dress suffering and
sick jokery for youths too uninformed to feel it slipping away, tick tick
tick. Tick.

Sontag cracked: dying well is the best revenge, that is, not dying
but writing about it winningly, scaring the reader senseless, like
the ancients. Not having to face up to the actuality of it, well, that's 
the  young's (pun) ticket to immortality.





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