23
Ethics and the stitching of skin
Metaphors come to us, they seethe in the bubbling miasma of the biosphere lying in wait for an unlikely candidate for infection. Like Burroughs’ Virus 23 that carries language and physically changes the body it infects to give it the ability to use a language; sometimes it hurts a bit.
This was the packaging from a bit of suturing I had done on my knee in Cuba a few years back. I fished it out of the garbage pail in the emergency room at the Varadero hospital I got stitched up in. I remain amazed at the brand name of the suture thread; ethicon. It has a somewhat Sci-Fi feel to it. The images brought to mind when thinking of a gash being closed up with “ethicon” are multiple and political, yet another item in the long list of landguage art-i-facts.
4-0 Prolene, polypropalene suture, 13 stitches in my right knee |
Results and Mission
I was in New York a while back. I found this envelope on the sidewalk and am not too sure what I want to make of it. I have had several meaningful conversations with people who choose to live on the street (the choice of the word choice is deliberate) and they seem to feel a freedom I cannot quite get to. I live in the academic bubble, I can do whatever I want to, provided I provide a sufficent amount of anthropomorphological data, to get to the answers I want to get to. But providing sufficient substanciation is a slippery slope. I can use the language needed but I cannot, in any terms, prove that I will obtain any result whatsoever.