The world at my feet

The German artist Gregor Schneider is seeking volunteers for his last performance-art piece, a work in which terminal patients will die as part of the exhibition. A private clinic in Düsseldorf has agreed to help him find volunteers for the project.

At the Wellcome Collection in London there is an exhibition of photos of ordinary people pictured before and after death by the German photographers Walter Schels and Beate Lakotta.

25 million people have seen Ghunter von Hagen’s Body World’s exhibition, in which real cadavers are conserved in various states of dissection.

Man, you must die, and art reminds you about it. Maybe von Hagen’s cadavers are interesting, maybe Schels and Lakotta’s portraits are touching, but I think Schneider is overstepping the line. Perhaps I’m wrong, I often don’t understand contemporary art. I’m only sure of one thing: Germans should enjoy life a little more.

Photo by Cayusa

A survey by Abbey Banking shows that British parents spend about 45 hours over the name of their newborn child. One in three parents believes the right name can give a child confidence, while up to 2 million think it could help their baby’s future career. Children’s names reflect people’s aspirations.

I’m not surprised by the results of this survey. In effect, the name Jack is right for a surgeon, but also for a drummer, but also for a trucker..But, there are names that, for their oddity or ugliness, can only ruin a person’s life. For example, what did Cher smoke when she called her daughter Chastity? The Latins was used to say “Nomen Omen”: your destiny is in your name. The meaning of my name is “lame”. No comments, please.

A man meets a woman, falls in love with her, marries her and eventually leaves her. It’s a love story like many others but, in this case, the conclusion is really “poetic”: the man is condemned to buy his ex-wife a mountain of poetry books. An Iranian Court has ordered a man to purchase 8100 books worth 700 million Rial (about 50000 €). Four years ago, the couple drafted a premarital agreement on the basis of Islamic law. An abandoned wife usually wants money, real properties or jewellery, but our abandoned wife belongs to an intellectual family and is a poetry lover. Last week another Iranian husband was condemned to give his ex-spouse 124000 red roses. Maybe this stranded wife has a flowers shop or is an American Beauty fan.

Photo by occhiovivo

Imagine the world is hit by a natural disaster or a nuclear war. Now imagine the earth after one of these events. It’s a sad sight, isn’t it? But now, there is a modern Noah’s ark of every existing seed buried in a mountain, in the Norwegian islands of Svalbard. It’s the “Svalbard Global Seed Vault”, a bunker financed by the Norwegian government, that will contain 4.5 million of seeds. The vault is on the bowels of the Plaataberget mountain, where is preserved from any type of disaster. The temperature of the vault will guarantee the perfect conservation of the seeds. According to the experts, these can remain for 1000 years as well. I hope nothing happens to this amazing world, but if there should be a catastrophe, at least the survivors will have the chance of setting up a new Eden. But I fear they would destroy that too.

Photo by Marco Magrini

There is Antoine, 47 years old, that offers (only to girls) “comfort” and a “nice room” in a flat: no rent, no deposit, but payments in kind. His co-tenant must only wander round the flat naked and give herself regularly. Then there is Laurent, 32 years old, that shares his roomy flat in the XV arrondissement in exchange for “not classic sexual relationships”.

According to the French daily newspaper Libération, in Paris there is a boom of ads that demand sex for a roof. The rents in the French metropolis are more and more expensive, and some smarty-pants takes advantage of the situation. Websites like Missive, Vivastreet and Kijiji are real mines of these ads. Usually the word “sex” is not mentioned and is disguised under formulas like “for girl”, “for supply of services” and is not specified the amount of the rent. I presume there are ads “for boy” too. I think who accepts such conditions isn’t a victim, it’s an exchange between two consenting adults. But at this point it’s better to opt for the classic prostitution, at least one is relaxed at home. I am imagining my landlord, naked, that whispers smuts in my ear..I prefer to sleep under a roof of stars for life.

In the morning she’s an undergraduate who follows the lectures, at night she turns into a call girl who sells her body for paying studies. She’s Laura D., authoress of the autobiographical novel “Mes Chères Études” (My expensive studies), the new French literary case. The girl tells her experience, today concluded, with an abundance of more scabrous details. She found her clients on the web, the first payed her 250 € only for seeing . I stop here, I wouldn’t induce some damsel to do likewise. This story reminds me of Melissa P., an Italian Lolita who sold a pile of copies of her “One Hundred Strokes of the Brush Before Bed”, a very mediocre book, which owes its success to the alleged authenticity of the plot. In this case too, the rather trite topic of a girl’s double life arouses more interest with the “reality” label. Well, trust me, I’m a worldly person: Laura D. is an hairy fifty-year-old man with a fine pot-belly. Now, who is still ready to cough up 250 € only for seeing?

Often single women moan that all  best men have already been snared or are gays. Now there is a third option: they are catholic priests.

                                                           Photo credit: Dois gais by Thiago Fonseca