<eyebeam><blast> the General

[zonezero <zonezero@mail.internet.com.mx>]

Ever since I discovered that the right leg belonging to the general had
been buried with military honors, I have asked myself in which exact
part of the human body does dignity and glory reside. During the burial
of the leg ­­a part of his that had been with him in his heroic acts as
a General and had always climbed steep hills with him­­ a bugle boy
played taps while a battalion carefully aligned among the cypress trees
of the cemetery, presented arms. The extremity was deposited in the
family crypt in a special coffin, and every year on the Day of the Dead,
the general would arrive at the graveyard to bring flowers to that part
of his body, which had departed ahead of him. 

The general would not cry for that portion of himself, but rather sit
there and recall the deeds that they had shared together, those were not
only war scenes, but also days of dancing Tango and Charleston at the
Officers Club. He would wonder about this part of his own body that had
already marched ahead to eternity, he pondered if it might have alighted
in heaven or gone to hell. He would stare at the tomb, giving thought to 
the idea that he now had to follow his leg to hell, or if in fact might
catch up with it in heaven.  

The problem with much of what is presented as web art today is that we
have not yet been able to define in which part of the body does dignity
or glory reside.


Pedro Meyer
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