Articulation
The Mrs. and I went to L.A. today (a returning problem in itself) to visit the California Science Museum and its newest and soon-to-be-leaving attraction Bodyworlds 2. For those of you with... lives... the exhibit consists of people (bodies, more accurately) that have been "plastinated," or, for the layman (read: lives, having), preserved in a manner such that they are free-standing and accurate to their original appearance. Basically, it's like skinning some guy and then freezing him in time!
So there were a few neat actual specimens of real human beings that had had all their spoil-able parts preserved, one in particular I remember that showcased a rare variation in human anatomy called 'situs invertus' in which all the organs of the body are formed in a mirror image of what they should be. The heart is on the right side, the liver on the wrong side, the pancreas as well... which doesn't affect the body in any detrimental way, it's just really neat. Things like that, learning about the thymus, which is an organ only children have that eventually dissapates into the soft tissue surrounding it in a process called 'involution' and a particularly distorted spinal column are what interest me. But simply seeing these people, these dead people, that had been preserved and presented like animals in a diorama... well it's more an argument against the Natural History Museum than anything else.
I'm not saying I didn't like it, I did. I thought it was really interesting, I learned some, and I got to see what was essentially an exploded camel. The thing is, I'm not sure of the intention with which these people were preserved and displayed, and I'm almost certain it wasn't the same as the one I took away from it.
Now, obviously, they're being put forth as science, since the exhibit is taking place in a science venue, but there were some choices made (who makes them and why is a mystery to me) that can only, and generously, be described as 'artistic.' Just as you see one specimen that's been flayed apart up the back to view the posterior ribs and the spinal column, you see a man who's been cordoned off into sections that are relieved out of his body proper at seemingly arbitrary intervals, giving thought more to a Dali painting than scientific curiosity. What is a man pulling out what is essentially the 'drawer' of his viscera going to show me about the human body that H.R. Geiger can't tell me?
The IMAX movie was probably my favorite part, seeing the interesting models they built, but, more importantly, seeing the actual 'field' shooting htat had been done. In an IMAX theatre, a million feet tall, roughly, and on 70 millimeter print, I saw video of a neuron actually firing! The fucker fired, man! You can see the color change, even through the highly pixellated image! That alone was worth the money. That, along with the hyperbolic parabaloid they have in the main rotunda... well, it was pretty awesome all around, I was just confused as to the Bodyworld's creator's motivations, and their lack of a forthcoming explanation.
The Museum itself, while obviously much more impressive than my personal place of employ, seems to have a lot of empty space once you get inside. There are at least three floors that I can see, but in what I saw making my way from floor to floor and looking around as I did, it seemed that they had one exhibit for every 200 sq. feet of space... which was a huge waste. Honestly, it seemed as if we had more exhibits in our less-stories, less-square-feet center than they did in their publicly-funded, park-inhabiting gradeur. Bully for us.
On top of that, I had to drive to damn ol' L.A. Now, I love L.A., in the sense that I am a Southern Californian and would rather choke on a bottle of tanning lotion than admit to anything other than a clinging, feverish love for my homeland. It is only through analogous weather conditions that I have been able to maintain synonymous ardor for the Motherland (Hellas (Greece)). That being written, every time I attempt to pilgrim into the City of Angels I get lost, or I make a wrong turn, or I can't find parking, or something horrendously niggling while not horrendously horrendous happens and it's another bead across the cord for why I shouldn't go back. This time it was my own damn fault as I'd copied down incomplete directions (you wouldn't think leaving out only one freeway would matter so much... but live and learn) but still... the universe should take care of more important things than making my trips into more metropolitan areas near me so damned deleterious.
Speaking of the Mrs. (I suppose) we went through a pretty rough patch recently, and there were times I thought she'd finally had the ends of me, but we're back and better than ever. Whatever we may have gone through to get to where we are, I'm glad for a few things. I'm glad our problems were with each other, problems though they weren't, and not with people outside of our relationship. I'm glad we've been able to work through them by ourselves, if only because now I feel like a straight-up big boy. I'm glad I have someone I can talk to, really talk to, about anything and everything et al, regardless of how frivolous or debauched or non-sequitur it may-or-may-not be. And finally, I'm glad it's her. I'm just so damn glad it's her.
Today, while pretending to be flabbergasted by our inability to garner directions while en route to our destination, she commented that we shouldn't have to, citing that, "That's why God invented the internet and put it on phones."
Fuck I love that woman.
I'm the next big thing, people. Get on it.
So there were a few neat actual specimens of real human beings that had had all their spoil-able parts preserved, one in particular I remember that showcased a rare variation in human anatomy called 'situs invertus' in which all the organs of the body are formed in a mirror image of what they should be. The heart is on the right side, the liver on the wrong side, the pancreas as well... which doesn't affect the body in any detrimental way, it's just really neat. Things like that, learning about the thymus, which is an organ only children have that eventually dissapates into the soft tissue surrounding it in a process called 'involution' and a particularly distorted spinal column are what interest me. But simply seeing these people, these dead people, that had been preserved and presented like animals in a diorama... well it's more an argument against the Natural History Museum than anything else.
I'm not saying I didn't like it, I did. I thought it was really interesting, I learned some, and I got to see what was essentially an exploded camel. The thing is, I'm not sure of the intention with which these people were preserved and displayed, and I'm almost certain it wasn't the same as the one I took away from it.
Now, obviously, they're being put forth as science, since the exhibit is taking place in a science venue, but there were some choices made (who makes them and why is a mystery to me) that can only, and generously, be described as 'artistic.' Just as you see one specimen that's been flayed apart up the back to view the posterior ribs and the spinal column, you see a man who's been cordoned off into sections that are relieved out of his body proper at seemingly arbitrary intervals, giving thought more to a Dali painting than scientific curiosity. What is a man pulling out what is essentially the 'drawer' of his viscera going to show me about the human body that H.R. Geiger can't tell me?
The IMAX movie was probably my favorite part, seeing the interesting models they built, but, more importantly, seeing the actual 'field' shooting htat had been done. In an IMAX theatre, a million feet tall, roughly, and on 70 millimeter print, I saw video of a neuron actually firing! The fucker fired, man! You can see the color change, even through the highly pixellated image! That alone was worth the money. That, along with the hyperbolic parabaloid they have in the main rotunda... well, it was pretty awesome all around, I was just confused as to the Bodyworld's creator's motivations, and their lack of a forthcoming explanation.
The Museum itself, while obviously much more impressive than my personal place of employ, seems to have a lot of empty space once you get inside. There are at least three floors that I can see, but in what I saw making my way from floor to floor and looking around as I did, it seemed that they had one exhibit for every 200 sq. feet of space... which was a huge waste. Honestly, it seemed as if we had more exhibits in our less-stories, less-square-feet center than they did in their publicly-funded, park-inhabiting gradeur. Bully for us.
On top of that, I had to drive to damn ol' L.A. Now, I love L.A., in the sense that I am a Southern Californian and would rather choke on a bottle of tanning lotion than admit to anything other than a clinging, feverish love for my homeland. It is only through analogous weather conditions that I have been able to maintain synonymous ardor for the Motherland (Hellas (Greece)). That being written, every time I attempt to pilgrim into the City of Angels I get lost, or I make a wrong turn, or I can't find parking, or something horrendously niggling while not horrendously horrendous happens and it's another bead across the cord for why I shouldn't go back. This time it was my own damn fault as I'd copied down incomplete directions (you wouldn't think leaving out only one freeway would matter so much... but live and learn) but still... the universe should take care of more important things than making my trips into more metropolitan areas near me so damned deleterious.
Speaking of the Mrs. (I suppose) we went through a pretty rough patch recently, and there were times I thought she'd finally had the ends of me, but we're back and better than ever. Whatever we may have gone through to get to where we are, I'm glad for a few things. I'm glad our problems were with each other, problems though they weren't, and not with people outside of our relationship. I'm glad we've been able to work through them by ourselves, if only because now I feel like a straight-up big boy. I'm glad I have someone I can talk to, really talk to, about anything and everything et al, regardless of how frivolous or debauched or non-sequitur it may-or-may-not be. And finally, I'm glad it's her. I'm just so damn glad it's her.
Today, while pretending to be flabbergasted by our inability to garner directions while en route to our destination, she commented that we shouldn't have to, citing that, "That's why God invented the internet and put it on phones."
Fuck I love that woman.
I'm the next big thing, people. Get on it.
posted by DeadLanguage at 2:04 AM
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