It does not mean the absence of people. Rather, it means that you wake up and find the person’s corpse not moving. Refusing to get up from its place, refusing to work. Refusing to eat and drink. Refusing to fulfill its responsibilities. Refusing to pay rent, bills and outstanding debts. Rejecting everything so very simply and without introductions.
This is exactly death. A sarcastic strike and individual civil disobedience is open and non-negotiable. It’s not the corpse’s problem, it’s yours. You can’t leave it there indoors or take it out to the street to prop it against the wall and go home as if nothing had happened. A big dilemma, a great disaster. The person has died, which means that he has given up on himself. He no longer wanted his body. He no longer needs it. He left and left it here as waste scrap. Like replacing an old shoe with a new one. He wears the new on a chair across from a bridge or a port, knots its strings well, lifts his collar to the extreme against colds and against the bruises of nostalgia, gets up and leaves without turning, leaving the old shoe on the chair in front of sinking ships and seagulls.
What are we going to do now that the person has died? After his soul departed leaving us only shoes, coat, hat, flesh and bones? What are we going to do with all this junk? What are we going to do with his big wardrobe that has no lock? With his worn-out shoes, with his old books, with his scent on the bed, with his fingerprints on furniture that no longer belonged to anyone, with his toothbrush and shaver he left yesterday near the fish-less tank. What are we going to do now with his breath still stuck between the rooms?
It’s real trouble. It cannot be left here. Also, it cannot be hidden behind the curtains or under the bed. There does not seem to be a reasonable solution to this disaster. It just needs to be discarded, it seems. He should have done it himself but he didn’t. Leave this difficult task to us.
Now, even if we mummified him, he would still be asleep, refusing to do any activity. Asleep and just as if the whole world was night. As if sleep is eternity, as if movement is annihilation.
But embalming is not the best solution. If humans had embalmed all those who died, the number of the living dead would now be greater than the number of the dead living.
Imagine it: a world made of taxiderms. The living will not find a place on this earth to walk on, nor a field to plow, nor a garden in which to walk their beautiful and amusing little hairy Knish dogs. Earth will turn into a gigantic museum of hell. Whoever died should be embalmed? As if you object to the will of death and his power and authority. As if you are saying: “You died? Well that’s fine, but stay here forever above the surface of the earth as if you were alive. Invisible to death. Just stay here, don’t do anything, just stay like this and be so cool and cute and scary for the kids.”
Of course, the living cannot accept such a thing. They refuse to let the dead stay here. They refuse to share life with the dead. They don’t want to remember that they too will die. So they build cemeteries on the outskirts of the city and not near the theme park. You should not see the cemetery while you are going to work or to a celebration.
The dead lose all benefit except frightening the living. Someone who sleeps and does not speak and does not move, it is a real disaster. What does that mean? Nobody knows. What does he want exactly? Nobody knows. And what is more, he is no longer afraid of anything. Imagine you are resting the neck of a dead person with your knee and crying. Then suddenly a raging lion storms the place. You will undoubtedly escape while the dead man will stand bravely in place. Then it is the dead who should cry for you, not you.
People close the eyes of the dead, wear black and pay homage. That’s funny. It is the dead who should mourn the living, not the other way around.
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