kellysearsmith
07 July 2009 @ 07:20 pm

I've resisted knowing anything about Michael Jackson's final hours, death, will, or memorial service. He was a troubled entertainer, a man of great gifts and equal troubles. I wish his family well. But, I don't believe his life's work was important enough to merit the attention he's being given, which rivals, and may ultimately exceed, Princess Diana's. She is a less troubling icon for the age, at any rate. And yet, I have not been able to escape knowing something, and as usual, it's the odd bits that stick to my brain pan. Speaking of which...

Michael Jackson's body has been buried without a brain. The brain has been retained in order to "harden" for chemical testing. Thanks to the Guardian for this.

Michael Jackson's coffin is the same style and make as James Brown's -- gold-plated solid bronze with blue velvet lining. It's the Promethean from the Batesville Casket Company. And thanks to Hollywood Grind for this.



Looking to invest $25K? Here are the Promethan's details (source):

PROMETHEAN By Batesville Custom Products

Z94-665-LH
Bronze/Custom Interior
Blue Onyx Velultra Velvet
(also available in white, red, and green)
48oz. Polished/Monoseal

Z94 Promethean Bronze/Custom Interior
48 Oz. Polished Bronze/Monoseal

FEATURES:

Semi-Precious Metal, Naturally Resistant to Rust and Corrosion

Interior Chemically Protected Against Rust and Corrosion

Batesville's 4 Point Protection Package

Locking mechanism plus a one piece rubber gasket to completely seal the top

Continuous weld to completely seal the bottom

Each casket factory tested for resistance to entry of outside elements

Fully insured warranty

Round Corner Design

Hand Polished Mirror Finish

14-Karat Gold Plated Hardware

Safety Seal, Swing Bar Hardware

Adjustable Bed and Mattress

Unique Family Memorial Portfolio

Memorial Record System

Living Memorial Program


Batesville Casket, btw, sells a variety of high-end coffins, including the Dimensions series, which is the big and tall version. Here's their line of basic bronze, prior to the gold.

It is strange to me that we still create such odd closed beds in which our loved ones are to find their final (and permanent) rest. It's such an outdated concept for a secular society, and, in my imagination, cold and lonely. I'm much more in favor of green burials -- they make more sense. I got my first good introduction to the concept in Stiff. Now if we could equal their consoling power, we would have something. Thanatopsis, anyone?


When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;—
Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings, while from all around—
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air—
Comes a still voice—Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix forever with the elements;
To be a brother to the insensible rock,
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.

Yet not to thine eternal resting-place
Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs of the infant world,—with kings,
The powerful of the earth,—the wise, the good,
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun; the vales
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods—rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,
Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,—
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man!


--William Cullen Bryant (ll. 8-45)

 
 
kellysearsmith

Rejuvenation, a high-end home fixtures reproduction house, makes two bat lamps that are to die for (cue Romanian accent). Goth meets art nouveau beautifully in these pieces, which, alas, most of us can't afford.



The Sunset




The Drake

source

 
 
kellysearsmith
14 February 2009 @ 04:16 pm

Last week, this short film on the exponential growth of information technology concurrent with the rise in global creativity and industry (and waning of European and American influence) made the rounds: Shift Happens by Karl Fisch, Scott McLeod, and Jeff Bronman. It drew strong reactions from everyone.

Shift Happens on YouTube

 
 
kellysearsmith
23 January 2009 @ 10:37 am
In Trollope's political novel Phineas Redux (1874), a once idealistic young parliamentarian expresses his hard-won cynicism thus:

Lady Laura: "I understand. I know that you have meant to be honest, while this man has always meant to be dishonest. I know that you have intended to serve your country, and have wished to work for it. But you cannot expect that it should all be roses."

Phineas: "Roses! The nosegays which are worn down at Westminster are made of garlick and dandelions!"

 
 
kellysearsmith
22 December 2008 @ 12:20 pm

Most of us know that our Christmas rituals, including the Christmas Tree, date back to the Victorian period, but are rooted in pagan rites and rituals. The ancient complement to this cultural leap back in time is the Ancient Bristlecone Pine. This is not your parking-lot tenenbaum.

The Ancient Bristlecone Pines are arguably the oldest living things on earth. We have discovered several stands of them in the Western United States, most famously in the White Mountains of California, just North of Death Valley. There these silent witnesses to natural history grown amdist outcroppings of dolomite in near waterless conditions, with temperatures that range from temperate to subzero, at or below the usual tree line. Harsh winds blow off what little snow provides their drink, and lightning storms frequently light the ridges where they grow. Yet they have endured, these individual wonders, for over four thousand, nearly five thousand, years. The eldest, Methuselah, is located somewhere in this range, but its location is a closely guarded secret. (How do we know their age? Dendrochronology, of course -- counting the growth rings.)


Image Source: Some are Boojums
click to enlarge


The best site on the web for learning more about these ancient wonders is Leonard Miller's Ancient Bristlecone Pine. The wiki gives this wisdom to account for the incredible longevity of this species:

"The wood is very dense and resinous, and thus resistant to invasion by insects, fungi, and other potential pests. As the tree ages, much of its vascular cambium layer may die. In very old specimens, often only a narrow strip of living tissue connects the roots to a handful of live branches."

The Ancient Bristlecone Pine may not glitter like a Star of Bethlehem or endure like the myth of resurrection, but they carry with them this wisdom: that which endures, abides. Being matters.