There Are People Who Would Love To

If You Could Really Guarantee That The Money Would Be Spent On Something More Worthwhile, I'd Say, Absolutely, Scrap The Space Program, But It Never Works That Way.

I Walk Up And Down The Rows. The Heads Look Like Rubber Halloween Masks. They Also Look Like Human Heads, But My Brain Has No Precedent For Human Heads On Tables Or In Roasting Pans Or Anywhere Other Than On Top Of A Human Bodies, And So I Think It Has Chosen To Interpret The Sight In A More Comforting Manner. - Here We Are At The Rubber Mask Factory. Look At The Nice Men And Woman Working On The Masks.

Every Mode Of Travel Has Its Signature Mental Aberration.

The Point Is That No Matter What You Choose To Do With Your Body When You Die, It Won't, Ultimately, Be Very Appealing. If You Are Inclined To Donate Yourself To Science, You Should Not Let Images Of Dissection Or Dismemberment Put You Off. They Are No More Or Less Gruesome, In My Opinion, Than Ordinary Decay Or The Sewing Shut Of Your Jaws Via Your Nostrils For A Funeral Viewing.

I Am Very Much Out Of My Element Here. There Are Moments, Listening To The Conversations Going On Around Me, When I Feel I Am Going To Lose My Mind. Earlier Today, I Heard Someone Say The Words, "i Felt At One With The Divine Source Of Creation." Mary Roach On A Conducted Tour Of Hades. I Had To Fight The Urge To Push Back My Chair And Start Screaming: Stand Back! All Of You! I've Got An Arthur Findlay Box Cutter! Instead, I Quietly Excused Myself And Went To The Bar, To Commune With Spirits I Know How To Relate To.