Imponderable #18: Bogotá

23 Sep

September 23, 2011

What, you don’t read Hispanically Speaking News?

I am sure many of you are expecting me to go off about art, and what does and does not constitute art, but while you’ve got history on your side that isn’t where I am heading.

I am zeroing in on this line. “The family of the deceased has denounced neglect from the part of the incident of the university, as they allege they failed to contact emergencies in a timely manner, and for allowing ‘irresponsible activities’ on campus.”

I am sure many of you are now expecting me to go off about grammar but while you’ve still got history on your side that isn’t where I am heading. I give this one a pass.

Here’s where I am going. The family of the deceased is upset with the school for allowing “irresponsible activities.” I have to believe that by that they mean the performance.

In other words, it is the school’s fault.
Not the fault of the man who tied a garbage bag tight over his head, the school’s.
And certainly not the fault of his mother, who encouraged changes to “make it more impacting.”

It was certainly impacting.

Why would a grieving family blame anyone but their dead son for his own death?

The question is understandable.

Why wasn’t a grown man able to rip a hole in an ordinary garbage bag so he could breath?

THAT question is Imponderable.

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Today in History: 2007: Marcel Marceau, R.I.P.

22 Sep

September 22, 2011

Marcel Marceau died four years ago today. He was 83 years old.

Marceau was the world’s most famous mime. While his face may not have been familiar, everyone knew his trademark striped shirt, bowler hat, and large flower. Frankly, he has not been missed.

He was a mime. And mimes are totally annoying. First of all, they don’t talk. Punch them in the nuts, they won’t groan. They are like the guards at Buckingham Palace, but less funny. Mimes walk around on nice summer days and pretend that they are struggling in the wind. Mimes laugh and cry at little flowers. Mimes get in your face and don’t get out until you give them money. Only pretentious PBS people like mimes. Supposedly they are practitioners of an art that goes back to ancient Greece. Big deal. The ancient Greeks had some funny ideas about young boys too.

Marcel Marceau’s funeral was a sight to see. A line of a dozen mimes strode side by side, pretending to be carrying an invisible coffin. The last in line pantomimed dropping it on his foot and limped the rest of the way. One in front pretended to pull the coffin with an imaginary rope. The eulogy was equally moving. Marcel was remembered by many of the mime community with these touching words:  “               .”

Before he was laid to rest, the assembled mimes first struggled to get out of an invisible phone booth, then laid their oversized flowers on the grave.

So Rest In Peace, funny man, let’s hope the art of mime ends here.

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