#Is there a on site morgue or incinerator?

[beearcheops]

fuck my stupid baka life

[dzthenerd490]

File: Vita Carnis

Original Creator  @darian_quilloy

Go Support their YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCtHJ59f4JJxzAyse-464BVw

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SCP#: AXA

Code Name: Vita Carnis/ Sarkic Seeds/ The Mistake of the Prince

Object Class: Apollyon 

Special Containment Procedures: Joint Task Force Artemis-1: Mosquito Swarm is to exterminate any instances of SCP-AXA-1, SCP-AXA-2, SCP-AXA-3, SCP-AXA-4, SCP-AXA-5, SCP-AXA-6, SCP-AXA-7, or SCP-AXA-8 instances in the wild. If any SCP-AXA variants manage survive Artemis-1 local Foundation staff is to alert the Appropriate Mobile Task Force at once for the sole purpose of extermination. If SCP-AXA-1 creates any new SCP-AXA variants or any new organisms that are similar to the characteristics of SCP-AXA are spotted in a known SCP-AXA-1 growth area. Foundation staff are advised to prioritize containment of the new anomaly over extermination. Regardless of how dangerous they are.

All captured samples are to be stored at Site-AJ.

SCP-AXA-1 instances are kept and harvested in the underground vegetation farms on the second floor of site-AJ. SCP-AXA-1 instances are not to spread beyond the farms and are to be harvested on a biweekly basis, to prevent overgrowth and SCP-AXA-2 instances to spawn. Any SCP-AXA-2 instance that is produced accidently by unharvested SCP-AXA-1 instances are to be captured and transported to the third floor of Site-AJ.

SCP-AXA-2 instances are to be kept in one of the 42 8x12 meter observation containment rooms on the third floor of Site-AJ. SCP-AXA-2 instances are harmless even in large numbers and thus can be placed together in a single containment room. SCP-AXA-1 instances are to be placed inside each containment cell to ensure a maintained population of SCP-AXA-2 instances. Any SCP-AXA-2 instance that escapes containment is to be hunted and exterminated. Any SCP-AXA-2 that displaces an abnormal appearance or behavior is to be exterminated. Afterwards its body is to be sent to the on-site testing morgue for cataloging and harvesting purposes. Every containment room is to be cleared out of SCP-AXA-1 growths and placed in brand new SCP-AXA-1 growths on a weekly basis to prevent other SCP-AXA variants from growing. Only SCP-AXA-1 instances in the containment rooms of level three are allowed to create SCP-AXA-2 instances. If any SCP-AXA-1 instance create an SCP-AXA-2 instance on any other floor they are to be incinerated at once, there are no exceptions.

SCP-AXA-3 instances are to be kept in one of the four 20x20 observation containment rooms on the fourth floor of Site-AJ. SCP-AXA-3 instances are allowed to have SCP-AXA-1 instances grow in their containment cell but only so that a new SCP-AXA-3 instance will be born after the previous one dies. Under no circumstances are there to be more than one SCP-AXA-3 instance within a containment cell regardless of size. SCP-AXA-3 instances are to be feed on a monthly basis to prevent oversized growth or mitosis of SCP-AXA-3. Any SCP-AXA-3 instance that reached 10 meter in length is to be left to starve. Any SCP-AXA-3 instance performing mitosis is to be executed and harvested of SCP-AXA-3-1. Only SCP-AXA-1 instances in the containment rooms of level four are allowed to create SCP-AXA-3 instances. If any SCP-AXA-1 instance create an SCP-AXA-3 instance on any other floor they are to be incinerated at once, there are no exceptions.

SCP-AXA-4 instances are kept in in one of the 20 8x8 concrete containment cells within the fifth level of Site-AJ. Each Containment Cell is equipped with an observation 360-degree observation camera to prevent the SCP-AXA-4 instance form hiding. SCP-AXA-4 Instances are feed on a monthly basis to prevent growth in size, strength, and to encourage a dependance on Foundation staff. A small door on the floor of the containment cell can open and close allowing Foundation staff to feed SCP-AXA-4 instances without entering the cell. However, as an added precaution SCP-AXA-4 instances are only to be feed by AFA-1 androids. If an SCP-AXA-4 instance is agitated and is attempting a breach in containment security protocol AXA-4-1 is to be activated. when this protocol is activated the observation staff is to activate the incapacitation agent paralyses the SCP-AXA-4 instance or put it to sleep. Foundation security is to then enter the containment cell and restrain the SCP-AXA-4 instance to prevent further containment. The SCP-AXA-4 instance is to never be freed form these restraints even after it has calmed down. Should an SCP-AXA-4 continue aggravation or be extremely close to breach of containment Protocol AXA-4-2 is to activate. This will result in the incineration of the interior of the cell where the aggravated SCP-AXA-4 instance is, killing it entirely. SCP-AXA-4 instances are to only be harvested from level eight no other means of breeding SCP-AXA-4 are permitted. No SCP-AXA-1 growths are to be allowed within level five, there are no exceptions.

SCP-AXA-5 is to be kept in the artificial forest environment of the sixth level of Site-AJ. Due to the size and range of SCP-AXA-5 only one is allowed to exist at any given time. SCP-AXA-5 is only to be fed for testing purposes otherwise it must be starved. SCP-AXA-5 is allowed to feed on the small animals left inside the artificial forest environment of level six, as it wastes its energy in doing so. Observation staff are to alert Foundation security if SCP-AXA-5 shows any signs of hunger, over feeding, mutation, or death from starvation.

SCP-AXA-6 instances are to be terminated on the spot, there are no exceptions.

SCP-AXA-7 are on the surface above Site-AX. SCP-AXA-7 instances are used to power the reality concealment engine protecting Site-AJ. Under no circumstances are SCP-AXA-7 instances to be tampered with in any way.

SCP-AXA-8 instances are to be terminated on the spot, there are no exceptions.

Description: SCP-AXA is a collection of skinless, meat-based organisms belonging to its own ecosystem. The origin of SCP-AXA is unknown and seemingly manifested and spread around the world by unknown means. SCP-AXA-1 is the first appearance of the anomaly and is responsible for the existence of the other variants within SCP-AXA's ecosystem. SCP-AXA-1 is a vine like growth that, like weeds, can exist in almost any environment. SCP-AXA-1 has a crimson and black texture with the crimson parts being the oldest and thickest and the black parts being the youngest and smallest. SCP-AXA-1 resembles the appearance and texture of meat. SCP-AXA-1 even has an internal structure resembling blood veins and arteries. SCP-AXA-1 is able to make food off of photosynthesis like a normal plant but prefers to get its food from rotten corpses of dead plants, insects, and animals. Because of this SCP-AXA-1 is more abundant in areas where corpses, rot, and waste are.

Due to SCP-AXA-1 feeding only on waste and rotting materials, it is not considered a threat. Furthermore, when SCP-AXA-1 starts decomposing after losing its source of food it will provide rich mulch that is far greater than any other fertilizer. As such, Foundation staff like to use SCP-AXA-1 decomposing instances as mulch for on sites farms to make stronger and faster yields. Site-AJ is now one of the leading suppliers to the Foundations farming experiments thanks to SCP-AXA-1. However, should SCP-AXA-1 be allowed access to a massive abundance to food it will start creating variants of similar biology.

SCP-AXA-2 instances are small vermin like organism that resemble skinned Procyon lotor. They can have somewhere between 6 to 12 limbs and grow at a maximum of 8 inches in size. SCP-AXA-2 instances are cowardly and harmless and as far as any Foundation personal can tell are practically worthless. However, upon testing the corpses of dead SCP-AXA-2 instances has shown that the meat of SCP-AXA-2 instances are extremely nutritional and lack cholesterol risk as well as saturated fats. Therefore, the amount of containment cells within Site-AJ as well as the number of SCP-AXA-2 instances aloud within a containment cell was increased due to the nutritional values of harvesting. This again has made Site-AJ a leading supplier for the Foundation's production of nutritional meat, similar to SCP-4495. Like SCP-AXA-1, SCP-AXA-2 are treated as garbage disposals within Site-AJ given their bottom feeding nature and diet.

SCP-AXA-3 are giant worm like organisms that start off 3-7 inches in length however it can mature to at minimum size of 5 meters. It is possible for SCP-AXA-3 instances to grow in size due to overfeeding. Like SCP-AXA-1, SCP-AXA-3 instances grow in size the more they feed and prefer to eat animal corpses over live animals. Unlike SCP-AXA-1 or SCP-AXA-2 instances, SCP-AXA-3 prefers to eat corpses of larger animals rather than rot, waist, and bones. SCP-AXA-3 instances uses its tongue like a snake to taste the smell of potential prey and can swallow its prey whole just like a snake. Unlike a snake however SCP-AXA-3 instances produce no waist and use the chemicals in its stomach to break down its food to be added into its own biomass rather than digested. SCP-AXA-3 instances also like to wear the skulls of their prey, why they do this is unknown. Because their growth has no recorded limit, and their size, their population and growth is to be under strict control. SCP-AXA-3 instances are not to be feed regularly and must be starved on occasion and if necessary to death. Any Foundation staff that show sympathy to SCP-AXA-3 instances it to be reassigned to a different Foundation site immediately.

The only benefit SCP-AXA-3 instances have is that their stomachs contain anomalous chemicals that can separate flesh from bones, preserve meat, sterilization, and revitalize flesh under necrosis. Due to their anomalous yet useful effects the chemicals have been dubbed SCP-AXA-3-1. After an SCP-AXA-3 instance dies their bodies are harvested for the SCP-AXA-3-1 chemicals in the stomach as they hold medical and food preservative value. Additionally, their bodies can be harvested for meat more health and nutritional than the meat harvested form dead SCP-AXA-2 instances. Should an SCP-AXA-3 instance grow to a size larger than 10 meters or perform mitosis they are to be killed and harvested.

SCP-AXA-4 instances are humanoid entities that at birth resemble SCP-AXA-2 instances despite they have only four limbs and are much skinnier. The average height of an adult SCP-AXA-4 instance is 7 feet, they resemble humans without skin or most of their muscle structure, and their facial structure is similar to that of a smile. Despite their flesh covered bone structure body SCP-AXA-4 are quite resilient able to withstand heavy blunt force and firearm damage without dying thought they can still get hurt and bleed.

Unlike previous Variants SCP-AXA-4 instances are extremely dangerous in that they feed on living prey rather than dead prey. Instead, SCP-AXA-4 will feed on living animals preferring to feed on smaller ones after birth and moving onto bigger and bigger prey as they grow. Once an SCP-AXA-4 instance reaches its final humanoid form it will start to hunt humans but with a less aggressive and more stealth based strategy. SCP-AXA-4 instances like to hide and observe human prey before eating. SCP-AXA-4 instances are extremely cautious of their prey and only strike when its prey's guard is down.

SCP-AXA-4 instances are made of human meat implying that SCP-AXA-1 instances make SCP-AXA-4 instances form absorbed human corpses and waste. SCP-AXA-4 instances prefer human meat to consume which allows them to mutate into one of two new variants called SCP-AXA-4-1 and SCP-AXA-4-2. SCP-AXA-4-1 instances are SCP-AXA-4 instances that have had several human corpses to eat, allowing them to mutate to resemble more and more human until they completely resemble humans. Afterwords, they blend into society and adapt to better capture prey. SCP-AXA-4-2 instances are the result of SCP-AXA-4 instances that have overeat human meat and thus their skin turns form a crimson texture to a black texture, even more durable skin, and pale pink face. They are considered the apex predators of all the SCP-AXA-4 instances. The best way to kill any SCP-AXA-4 variant is to incinerate with fire, lighting, or any other heat-based damage. Unlike previous instances harvesting SCP-AXA-4 corpses have no benefits. SCP-AXA-4 are to be used only for combat and weapon testing purposes.

SCP-AXA-5 instances are large bulbs of flesh that grow tendrils underneath the ground for the purpose of hunting. The primary tentacles being the largest, surround the bulb with a maximum length of 12-20 meters. However, these tentacles don't stretch out but wrap around under the ground surrounding the bulb ensuring the bulb has control over a circular area around itself. The primary tentacles have two rows of teeth that puncture out of the soil to inject into any organism wandering around SCP-AXA-5. The first venom is a paralysis venom preventing the victim from moving and the second venom prevents blood clotting forcing the body to bleed out from the puncture wounds. This is where the tendrils below ground will work by absorbing the blood of the victim until they have bled out. Afterwards the tendrils with latch onto the body and shuffle it into the ground and start absorbing the flesh until the bones are left. This will result in the bones turning into fertilizer that will make the plants around SCP-AXA-5 more plentiful and healthy.

SCP-AXA-5 does not feed on smaller animals as it likes to keep them alive so that bigger prey will be more likely to come. SCP-AXA-5 only goes after bigger and slower moving animals including humans. SCP-AXA-5 is considered a high-level threat which is why only one is aloud within Site-AJ and no more. though the only living SCP-AXA-5 instance remaining is within Site-AJ the foundation still doesn't fully understand its existence. SCP-AXA-5 has been alive for [data expunged] years and has now switched to eating the small animals within its containment chamber due to desperation. Like SCP-AXA-4, nothing useful has come from SCP-AXA-5 besides understanding its behavior.

SCP-AXA-6 instances are similar to SCP-AXA-4 in that they have a humanoid structure with the only exceptions being a lack of facial expression and the legs being replaced with hundreds of tendrils sticked them to the ground. Unlike other instances SCP-AXA-6 have sturdy muscle patches on its body that act as a sort of armor all over its body. SCP-AXA-6 also have a vertical mouth on its neck but has no teeth. Unlike SCP-AXA-4 instances and SCP-AXA-6 has no methods of attack or defense, instead SCP-AXA-6 relies on spores it spreads through its hair like growths on its back. SCP-AXA-6 instances release their fungus through the hairs into the air to influence victims. Once a victim has been exposed by the spores for 2-3 hours the host will experience, anxiousness, numbness, lack of coordination, and sluggish movement. After 4-5 hours the host will experience dizziness, migraines, impaired speech, and constant shaking of the body. After 6-7 hours of infection the host will then start to walk toward the SCP-AXA-6 instance, once it has reached the instance the host will bow while exposing themselves. The SCP-AXA-6 instance will then start cutting the victim open and harvest and eat their organs. The only method of infection besides common medication for fungal infection is to keep the victim away from the host for a total of 36 hours.

SCP-AXA-6 has the ability to leave its area whenever it feels that its current area has no food to offer, how it does this is unknown. Due to the dangers of they possess to the human population, all SCP-AXA-6 instances that manifest are to be exterminated on site and harvested of their spores. Because of the anomalous mind control abilities of the spores, they have been labeled SCP-AXA-6-1 and are currently under testing for possible amnestic properties that can be exploited.

On 1972 for unknown reason SCP-AXA-7 manifested itself in [data expunged]. SCP-AXA-7 instances consist of seven gigantic meat structures that form a ring approximately 1km in diameter. Because the SCP-AXA-7 instances surrounded the city of [data expunged] all civilians had to be amnestied and evacuated. Each SCP-AXA-7 instance is made up of hundreds of strands of meat that form into giant humanoid structures that are 120 meters tall. Though the torso and legs are the meat strands woven together the arms are the same strands but separated and just barely reach the ground. The head of the SCP-AXA-7 instances form a crude upside own triangle of meat with a hole in the center, the biological reasoning for this is unknown.

The SCP Foundation and the Global Occult Coalition collaborated in an effort to destroy the instances however [data expunged] resulting in half of the attack force's annihilation. Because of the [data expunged] attack, it was found out that SCP-AXA-7 [data expunged] because of this it produces massive amounts of useable energy. The Foundation then opted to create [data expunged] and connect it with a reality concealment engine making the SCP-AXA-7 instances unnoticeable to the entire world. Because range of the are affected by the reality concealment engine, the 05 council declared the area Site-AJ and had all SCP-AXA variants to be placed there.

SCP-AXA-8 is a 1 meter in diameter spherical levitating object comprised of dark colored minerals however cracks on its surface show various luminous colors within its core. SCP-AXA-8 has the ability to emit random signal patterns, a magnetic field, energy signature, [data expunged]. SCP-AXA-8 was originally not considered a SCP-AXA variant however after [data expunged] thus confirming they were an SCP-AXA variant. SCP-AXA-8 insides [data expunged]. SCP-AXA-8 are capable of [data expunged], [data expunged], and [data expunged] manipulation as such any and all SCP-AXA-8 instances are to be exterminated by MTF Tau-5.

SCP-AXA was discovered in [data expunged] of 1931, about [data expunged] years after the SCP Foundation was founded. SCP-AXA was one of the first SCP's discovered after the [data expunged] incident that [data expunged] forever. The SCP Foundation at the time was still young and couldn't contain and exterminate all the instances of SCP-AXA. To make matters worse World War 2 had come around and along with it, the Seventh Occult War. However, what was originally believed to be a curse ended up being a blessing in disguise. The SCP Foundation had encountered the forces of the [data expunged], the Horizon Initiative and several factions from the Church of the Broken God. This was the Foundation's [data expunged] encounter with these organizations after the [data expunged] incident. None of the organizations saw eye to eye and continued dealing with the threat in their own way, while occasionally attack each other. However various clans of the Sarkic Cult started uniting into a single cult to participate in the Seventh Occult War. The united Sarkic Cult started protecting and cultivating SCP-AXA variants, to use in the war. Out of desperation to prevent the growing threat of the Sarkic Cult from revealing its presence and wrath onto the world, the organizations united.

This was the first ever mission of the newly formed Anomalous Correction and Protection Alliance, though at the time it was called the Global Paranormal Control Alliance. To combat the slowly uniting Sarkic Clans and prevent the world being exposed to them and SCP-AXA project Mosquito Swarm was created. Project Mosquito Swarm was collaboration between the Foundation, HI, and COTBG. Mosquito Swarm was the creation of the first satellite targeting system and drones' security system ever made in the world.

Over the years Project Mosquito Swarm was modified and upgraded in order to ensure maximum suppression of SCP-AXA and the Sarkic Cult. Now in the year 1958 the new and improved Mosquito Swarm project has managed to permanently suppress SCP-AXA and divide the Sarkic Clans again.

The Current state of Mosquito Swarm consists of 280,000,000 drones with the following capabilities.

- Incineration spread laser: Designed by the Global Occult Coalition to destroy both small and large amounts of anomalous biomass without damaging inorganic matter at all. Advanced computer guiding system helps prevent the risk of catching anything else organic in crossfire.

- Miniature dimension alteration engine: Designed by the SCP Foundation allowing the drones to fly anywhere in the world not only at high speeds but be undetectable to anyone in our reality. The device also allows drones to roam anywhere in the world, without limits, and without worry of being destroyed by Sarkite hostiles or civilian scavengers.

- Satellite Guiding system: Created by the Horizon Initiative, a satellite system that used to spot potential anomalous threats of every variety. Connected to the drones of Project Mosquito Swarm to find and destroy all instances matching the anomaly in the wild with 100% speed and accuracy.

- Gravity Manipulation Acceleration Wings: Designed by the Church of Maxwellism for the purpose of allowing the drones to maintain maximum speed of 1000 miles per hour; regardless of environment, weather, and dimension the drone is currently in.

- Nanobot Regenerative Armor - Designed by the Eight Wings of Mekhane, to ensure that even in the impossibility a Sarkic or Civilian finds a way to damage the drones they can recover quickly and return to work with 100% efficiency.

Though the Since the end of World War 2 and the Seventh Occult War the Church of the Broken God has divide due to heavy losses and due to difference of opinions with the Anomalous Correction and Protection Alliance. Though the Church of Maxwellism and the Eight Wings of Mekhane has remained aligned with the ACPA.

To this day SCP-AXA variants still exist in the wild as such MTF Artemis-1: Mosquito Swarm are entrusted to destroy them. Any SCP-AXA variant exposed to the public are to be handled by MTF Demeter-1: The Butchers, to amnesties or kill the witnesses and incinerate the captive or nesting SCP-AXA variants. The Sarkic Cult clan known as [data expunged] is expected to still be on the loose cultivating SCP-AXA instances as they did during the Seventh Occult War/ World War 2. Therefore, MTF Ares-2: Cult Killers are to hunt them down and kill all members.

End Note: Upon further investigation of SCP-AXA reveals that despite its surge 1931, historical records and interrogations with captured Sarkic members indicate that SCP-AXA has actually existed since [data expunged]. Apparently, SCP-AXA managed to evade the eyes of the SCP Foundation, Global Occult Coalition, and Horizon Initiative as well as more ancient anomalous organizations during their time. How this is possible is unknown, further studying is required.

It should also be noted that SCP-AXA is a prime example of why the Sarkic Cult, though divided, is one of the greatest threats in our reality.

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SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[beardedmrbean]

Alana Ross and Daniel McCarthy, whose late child’s remains were lost, are suing Brigham and Women’s Hospital, the Boston hospital where Ross gave birth, The New York Times reports.

Ross gave birth to the couple’s first child named Everleigh Victoria McCarthy on July 25, 2020, three months early. The newborn quickly developed significant bleeding in her brain. Ross and McCarthy, however, remained hopeful and cared for their daughter.

Two weeks later, doctors told the parents that Everleigh wasn’t going to make it. She was taken off the ventilator and passed away on Aug. 6.

Nurses cleaned the baby and put her in a white gown, while Ross and McCarthy were faced with the task of planning Everleigh’s funeral. Later, the funeral home attempted to pick up Everleigh’s body when hospital employees said her remains could not be found. Boston police officers determined that her body “was probably mistaken as soiled linen” and discarded.

“It’s like she died all over again,” Ross told The New York Times.

Police interviewed a hospital pathologist who told them that only pathologists were allowed inside the hospital morgue’s examination room and that no used linen had been removed the day after Everleigh’s body was brought there.

The pathologist later admitted that he saw linen on a tray and disposed of them in a bag allocated for soiled materials. They also determined that after being discarded, linen is taken to a cleaning service with an on-site compactor. From there, a waste management company sends hospital waste to landfills in South Carolina and New Hampshire.

Officers and hospital employees searched one of Boston’s waste centers for hours but didn’t find the body. Police came to the conclusion that Everleigh’s body had not been put in the “proper area where deceased children” are placed inside the morgue cooler. According to the lawsuit, her remains were likely sent to one of the landfills or incinerated.

Ross and McCarthy filed a lawsuit against the hospital on Thursday. According to one of their lawyers, Greg Henning, they are not seeking a specific amount of money. Their ultimate goal is to make sure this never happens to another parent.

“We don’t want anybody else to go through this,” Ross said. “We want the hospital to be held accountable. We want them to fix this.”

Dr. Sunil Eappen, Brigham and Women’s Hospital’s chief medical officer, shared his condolences to Ross and McCarthy via a statement released on Thursday.

“Our deepest sympathies and most sincere apologies to the Ross and McCarthy family for their loss and the heartbreaking circumstances surrounding it,” Eappen said.

Eappen continued, saying “as with any instance in which there is a concern raised related to our standard of care or practice. We readily and transparently shared the details with the patient’s family. We always evaluate both system and human factors that contribute to errors or potential issues raised by patients, family members or staff and take action. Due to pending litigation, we are unable to comment specifically on this case.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird, “A Preoccupation with Death.”

Hope you enjoy :)

Analysis By Dr. Krill MD

Humanity’s preoccupation with death has always fascinated me: I say fascinated because to say that it disturbs me would be rather unscientific, and I have been attempting to reign in my anger… I have had some… complaints over the last year about the unprofessionalism of my previous papers. The GA community does not appreciate, and I quote, “Excessive swearing, and screaming” in virtual reports, so today I will attempt to be calm and relaxed as I explain to you, common human traditions based around death.

Now you must understand, from my perspective these practices are quite bizarre. Vrull have no rituals associated with death. The Vrull are disposed of and their bodies are incinerated. The ash is then disposed with by mixing into the soil to produce needed plants on the planet surface. There are no other options, and no other arrangements are made.

However, I am told that funeral rights with humans are, often, more to do with what the living need than what the deceased do. However, there are some funeral rights believed to be required in certain human cultures, so that rule does not always hold completely true.

I will begin from the moment of death.

Unlike the Vrull humans do not know their exact time of death. Granted this is not because the Vrull have a set clocking system in their bodies which sets the time in which we die, but because our society sets forth a time of our usefulness. No one knows how long a Vrull can feasibly live because no one has tried it before. I myself might plan on finding out, as I have no intention of returning for my scheduled termination, which is already a year overdue.

Humans, like most other species die in several different ways, accidents, sickness, or the sudden failure of the body due to old age, the final one generally happening peacefully and in their sleep.

However this is where humans tend to diverge from their inhuman counterparts, in that they are very social creatures, the death of a human is usually witnessed by multiple family members and friends, in the case of sickness, and is mourned many weeks after because the death of someone in your social circle changes that circle forever. Social bonds are cut and entire social lives are upended. Humans bond so heavily with each other that the loss of one of their own can lead to mental and emotional trauma extreme enough to require medication and hospitalization.

Humans plan their deaths months to years in advance. In certain instances, their jobs force them to plan their death in advance in case something were to happen. Decisions need to be made about who owns their property, where it goes, what happens to their dwellings, and how the surviving members of their family will be supported. Sometimes they plan this due to terminal illness which they knew will lead to their deaths, otherwise they might just do it out of precaution.

There are many different ways of disposing of a corpse. First of all, you must determine if any of the human parts are recyclable: this being the very morbid idea of taking someone else’s organs and giving them to another person. Now with the advancement of this technology, organ transplants from donors is not as common as it once was seeing as they can now 3D print organs. However, this method is not time effective and is very costly, in some cases leaving the harvesting of deceased human organs to be the only viable option.

Yes, they take organs from dead people… the doctor and surgeon in me admires that thought process, but the thinking breathing creature inside of me recoils heavily at the idea.

Assuming that no one requires your organs, or if you have especially requested for your organ not to be used  than there are other questions that need to be addressed. There are humans who have jobs especially in the business of taking care of dead bodies. They are generally moved in special containers and placed in refrigerated units to slow decomposition while the relatives determine what they want to do with the body.

In certain cases, where the death is suspicious, as related to murder, there are, in fact, humans who specilize in determining the cause and time of death based on the decomposition rate of a body and the stiffness of the flesh itself. This is a semi-common practice across the galaxy, and I myself have performed one or two autopsies since my professional career began though they are far more common for humans.

I find that the most humane method of human enterrement, and the one that makes most sense to me as a Vrull is the idea of cremation. The body is taken and placed in a furnace that is then heated enough to turn the body to ash leaving only bone fragments and the occasional mineral deposit. The ash may then be given to the family members or disposed of accordingly. Some humans find it comforting to keep the remains in some sort of container.... A fact which I find morbid but, we have proven in abundance that I find much of what humanity does, rather morbid.

It is only going to get worse.

The other method of disposal, popular through human history, however made someone obscure in recent centuries due to the proliferation of human burial sites…. The common north american and European Burial and funeral rights went as follows. After death, and freezing in the morgue, a special human with the job of mortician is called in to prepared the body for burial…. This is where it gets very morbid.

The body is drained of all of its fluids and then pumped full of preservatives to slow down the process of decomposition. The faces are then painted with makeup to give the corpse the appearance of sleep rather than death. The body is dressed in fine clothing and placed inside a coffin or casket: these in themselves can cost thousands of dollars as the family members decide what materials the box should be made out of and lined with, precious metals, woods like oak or steel, and the inside lined in velvet satin or silk. The body is placed inside with the person dressed in a finely tailored suit before a hearse: a special vehicle designed to carry caskets is brought to the place of mourning, generally a curch or a funeral home.

Many times the body is then put through a “viewing”.... It sounds just as bad as I make it seem, when the humans come in…. In large groups…. To stare at their dead relative. Just…. Stare at their rotting corpse before it is hauled away and lowered into an six foot hole in the earth. A decorative rock is then place on top of that inscribed with the deceased’s name so that everyone knows where to find their moldering corpse….

….

….

I am told this provides a lot of closure for family members, though I have yet to understand why staring at a painted corpse would be helpful.’

Unfortunately, with humans, this isn't the most gruesome method they have of corpse disposal, nor the most involved 

You may also chose to donate your body to science…

They might hand your bod over to a medical school, where aspiring doctors will, in groups, dissect your corpse slowly over an intervening few weeks or months. It is… gruesome, but a necessary part of the learning process. Your skeleton might even be recycled for use as a tool to demonstrate the skeletal structure to those very same students.

Perhaps your body will end up in a museum, where they will encase your nervous system in plaster and place it on a wall for school children and visiting day travelers to view.

Perhaps you might donate your body to…. A body farm. A palace where scientists will toss your corpse out into different elements to observe the rate and change of decomposition based on different dump sites. They will examine the decomposition, the moisture loss, and the bugs which take to eating your body. This research will then be used to determine the cause o death for other corpses disposed of by murderers or in similar fashion.

It is gruesome, but I suppose…. It is useful for scientific efforts.

These aren't the only methods of body disposal.

Bodies have been tied to the top of large towers

Thrown into the woods to be eaten by animals

Dumped into pits.

And in a couple of cases, launched into the vacuum of space.

Different rituals require family members to spend more or less time with the body, to wrap it in special cloth, or to anoint it with certain oils. 

The Egyptians were widely known for their complex and involved enterrement rituals commonly known as mummification.

The body was first embalmed

The brain was removed

The organs removed and placed in specialized canopic jars 

The body was then dried

Then wrapped which continued to help in the drying process 

Then the body was finally entered, and due to the sandy heat of the desert, the body was often preserved to a great and surprising degree. Egyptians believed that those things you had in life would come with you after death, and so egyptian rulers were entered with great riches and inside grand palaces 

Then of course there is the last ritual which I learned about just recently.

Certain tribal societies will….. Eat…. their dead….

They will eat them….

As in the entire village will get together and consume the corpse in a feast, believing that without this they cannot enter the afterlife.

…..

…

…

…

…

I am going to draft a proposal to the GASC that screaming and profanities should be considered scientifically appropriate when in regards to humans

[deaconess]

Longings and Hospice Hopes

For those of you who travel with me through the words on this blog, you’re probably aware of my longing to open a hospice house in rural western Kenya.

Longing creates a sense of anticipation and hope. Longing also involves a sense of loss as what was once imagined morphs into something new.  Longing also requires patience, and even more patience. Perhaps you are wondering along with me, “Is this project ever going to get off the ground?”

When Kenyan Pastor David Chuchu, director of Diakona Compassionate Ministry (DCM), and I first began talking about the hospice project back in 2012, we envisioned a cozy little cottage with a few beds where the suffering and dying could lay their weary heads and receive mercy care.  Over several years, we made visits to a few hospices in Kenya. One hospice is housed inside a hospital run by the Sisters of Mercy in western Kenya. (In fact, a few years ago David’s mother-in-law, Rose, received end-of-life care there.)  Another hospice near Kip Karen in northwestern Kenya showed us we need much more than a little cottage and a few staff to provide proper care.  We need to have a clinic, lab, physical therapy, medical offices, an incinerator for medical waste, and a cafeteria. And we eventually will need housing for staff and visitors. We will also need a morgue (more about this in another post). Some of these will be income generating, (clinic and morgue), helping us reach a goal of a self-sustaining palliative care center. And of course, central to our mission, will be the need for a chapel where folks can come and receive the gifts of Christ and rest for their weary souls.

I continue to learn the shape of dreams must change and grow, even as plans on paper change.

Originally, the land on a gorgeously verdant slope near a river that a rural community had donated-- land which held my footprints and renewed visions for this hospice house—had to be left behind.  While we had the support of the community for this project, the government was slow to act. We were not getting the government stamp of approval which would allow us to proceed.

So, we have new land!  Purchased and ready to go.  It’s a beautiful acre parcel nestled next to trees and farmland in the same rural area as our previous site and now we own it!  Also, we are in negotiations to purchase an additional acre of land, giving us room to expand as needed. The geography of the new land is flat which will make construction easier and less expensive. However, there is no river access, so we need to drill a borehole for water.  Right now, the architect is fine-tuning the original renderings to fit this new parcel.

New land--rich and fertile

Here is where we are currently:

First, we need to get the land officially transferred to DCM and get a water survey done to determine the depth of drilling needed for water. Right now, the estimated cost for drilling a borehole and adding a water pump is between $15,000-$20,000 (I’m trying not to gasp!) Second, we need to register a name for the hospice and clinic, one that carries our mission and vision of mercy to the suffering and dying.  Once registered, then we can break ground.

New parcel of land, awaiting addition of another acre

Pastor Chuchu is working hard on all these steps.

David has the experience and background to get things done.  I’ve known him since 2006 when I first stepped foot on Kenyan soil. He has become a trusted mentor, a colleague in Christ and a dear friend. In addition to being an ordained minister, he has several degrees: a diploma in journalism, bachelor’s and master’s degrees in project planning and management, and of course a master’s of divinity in religious studies.

David and Pamela 2012. Colleagues and friends.

David’s credentials are obvious, his skills impeccable, but most of all, he is a man of mercy who doesn’t give up. He manages many projects. He directs successful non-profit organizations through DCM. He is a construction project manager and has built a resort and even his own hotel—both income generating to support DCM projects. We are fortunate to have his expertise and steadfastness.

David and his lovely wife, Mary, 2016

I’m also pleased to announce that the launch of this hospice project is under the care of Diakonia Compassionate Ministries (Bringing Hope to the Hopeless) in Kenya, and Curatio Mundi (Healing the World) out of Texas.  This partnership opens doors for more folks to be involved in this project and makes donations easy!  Tax deductible donations to the hospice project can be made directly through the Curatio Mundi website curatiomundi.org -- simply click on Kenya Hospice.  (Project updates will be posted there as well).

Of course, you may also mail your donations to Curatio Mundi at P.O. Box 4101 Longview, TX 75606

Or Holy Cross Lutheran Church, 4701 Grove St. Rocklin, CA 95677.

Earmark checks for “Kenya Hospice”

Always Mercy,   Pamela

[whumpywhumper]

New York--Part 2

Tagging: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @rosesareviolentlyread @oceanthesarcasamfox @insanitywishes @imagination1reality0 @voidwhump @captivity-whump @walkingchemicalfire 

As always, @0idril0 was indispensable to this series and the fact she’s allowed me to use Clint makes me so grateful, go check out her Nico Series

Please see the: Masterpost and New York--Part 1

TW: Mentions of possible character death. This is some angsty, schmoopy, worldbuilding. 

V***V

Clint growled, head spiraling after looking at the evidentiary photographs for hours. An itch had started under his skin about an hour ago, making him antsy and grumpy. 

He flicked the photograph of one of the “cattle cells”, one of the female Elder’s, onto the table with a disgusted snarl. “What the fuck have you pulled me into, Holland?” 

The older man groaned, throwing a photo onto the table himself before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping that you could tell me that, Clint. We know it’s a nest, but only Christ knows what else they’re doing. How big they actually are. They’re organized, they’re doing something else.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair.  “Caught wind of them about six months ago, about the time I heard you were in Chicago, but we didn’t get a solid lead until recently.” Their eyes met across the table, and Clint saw the fountain of wisdom in them that had made him trust him for years. “I’ve got a gut feeling, it’s why I wanted you here.” 

He tugged at a fist full of hair, trying to stretch out his back. The conference room was quiet other than the footsteps of the nurses back and forth to their station. Kincaid had fallen asleep on the table, one hand still holding a pen as he’d taken copious notes in everything in the photos. 

Ben was laying on the ground, feet propped up in his chair, a sheaf of papers on his chest. His glasses were askew and an occasional grunting snore filling the air. Delta, Justin, and Daniel had all left a few hours previous; Delta parting with one last glare that had made the remaining cops snicker. 

He shook his head, looking at all of the photos they’d gone through. “I need more info,” he sighed, “hands on info. This isn’t working for me. I want to talk to some of the people inside. Anyone stand out as being someone who would talk?“ 

“Not right off the bat, no. Definitely not the vamps themselves. The humans on the inside, the ‘neolates’ as they call them, are pretty dedicated, and quite a few scattered to the wind when we raided. Most of the vics were out of the loop, either drugged or magicked to hell.”  

“Most?” 

“There were a few that were kept pretty strong so that the fledglings and juveniles could practice their-“ he wiggled his fingers, “-mind stuff.” 

Clint smirked, “they call it glamour.” 

“Whatever-” Holland waved away the correction, “-there were others that were kept for the vamps to have fun with. Point is, there’s a few that could tell us what was going on, and there’s a few that we’re still waiting on to get back in their right mind or waking up. If they’re going to wake up.” He sighed, exhausted. “I’m not sure any of them will be of any help, really.” 

“How many do you have here?” 

“All of the vics were originally stationed here, but the majority have been cleared to go home, or to some of the shelters and long term care facilities for rehab. We just don’t have the resources to keep them.” He started counting on his fingers, looking pensive. “I have the statements that we got from them before we released them—there was a veritable shitstorm of uniforms and detectives up here interviewing—and I have contact information for all of them if you want to interview ‘em.” He shook his head, pursing his lips. “I don’t think that that would be the best use of your time, there’s too many of them, and they don’t know much.” 

Holland stretched, pulling a file toward himself and looking at a list.  “I think there’s about thirty that are here in their longer stay wards, a few of those are being weaned off of some heavy narcotics so their testimony isn’t as reliable as I want right now, and we have one under ICU care, but he’s being kept on the same floor for ease of access and security—it’s actually this floor. He’s why Blue Nightmare out there is being such a bitch, she wants him up on the other floor.” Rolling his eyes, he smirked, a fond edge to his lips. “I’ve tried to tell her that it’s for his protection, we have units stashed all over, but she’s still worried. It also irritates her to no end that we’ve messed up her nurses rotations and shifts, but Olivia is a good egg. One of the best.”  He tossed the file to Clint, but it was a gibberish list of names, initials, and medical stats. “There’s a couple of bodies down in the morgue here, and a few at the coroner’s office, if you want to take a look at them. There was an incinerator on site, we think that’s where the majority of their bodies went.” 

Sighing, Clint closed the file and rubbed at his eyes. “Were there any nest members that were injured in the raid?” 

“A few, I’ve already interviewed them, they’re not going to give much I don’t think. They were their front line. You might have more luck—especially if I’m not there.” Clint smiled to himself, Holland wasn’t ever one to stand on police procedure when it came to sups, but he was never unfair about it. “Uhh, there’s one that might be more helpful, I didn’t even think about him since he’s practically on death’s door anyway.” He pulled another file out of a stack, almost toppling it onto Kincaid. “His name is Joseph, he was apparently getting some kind of cure for working for the vamps, but now the docs say he’s got two weeks, at best. Pancreatic cancer.” 

Clint hummed as he took the proffered file, flipping it open to look at the picture. A young African-American man looked up at him from a mug shot, dark eyes pained and hollow. He couldn’t have been more than twenty three, already dying, faced with an impossible decision. Fuck. How many other nest mates were in the same position?

“You’ve got a lot of pictures here of the nesting areas and containment cells. Where was the nest located?” 

“It’s a renovated factory at the edge of the city, they’d expanded it and turned it into a compound. Rumor had it that there was a small clinic that was run out of it for supernaturals of all types. We’re not sure how their greater operation was evading scrutiny, but this nest runs deep. I think it’s one of their main strongholds though, and Justin can take you tomorrow.” 

Sighing, Clint looked back over the mounds of photographs. “Holland. . . This is a big operation, it’s gonna to take a lot of time.” He shook his head, biting at his lip. “I wanna help, and I can give you a few days, but I have something I’m already in the middle of investigating. It’s important.” 

“I heard through the grape vine, a friend of yours went missing in Massachusetts a few months back?” Holland interlaced his fingers, deliberately putting his elbows on the table and looking at him with a compassion that Clint wanted to reject. He knew what he thought, and he wasn’t ready to accept it. “You still haven’t found him?” 

He grunted a negative, avoiding the other man’s eyes. “Leads went cold, was actually hoping some of my connections here might have heard something.” 

“How long has he been gone?” 

“Five months.” 

“Clint,” Holland paused, a gusty sigh through his nose before his hand rasped against his gray stubble, “Massachusetts is four hours from here, and they’re both densely populated. There’s little likelihood that anyone would have heard something, or remember something from five months ago, no matter how small the supernatural community is.” They both paused, a sinking, palpable tension filling the room. “Clint, son, look at me,” he said softly. 

His eyes burned, and he knew when he met Holland’s steadfast gaze that they were red with unshed tears. “I don’t wanna hear it, Holland,” he whispered, a hot coal in his throat. 

The other man nodded at him, a small frown on his face as he climbed to his feet stiffly, closing the distance between them. Clint didn’t move from his seated position, looking up at his friend as he put a strong hand on his shoulder. Gripping him tightly. 

Holland held his gaze, words unstoppable. “I know you don’t wanna hear it, son, but it’s not gonna change anything to sugar coat it. To avoid the reality. You’ve been doing this for long enough, you know the statistics.” He squeezed Clint’s shoulder, bracing him. “You know what I’m going to say, and I don’t have to spell it out for you. I’m not going to bullshit you like I would some civvy; you wouldn’t appreciate it, and I’ve never been very good at it.” 

He sighed heavily, giving Clint time to scramble madly for control of himself. “You need to accept that your friend is probably gone, Clint,” he said softly, “and probably has been for a while.” 

Clint shuddered, biting his tongue as his wolf howled inside of him, wanting to join in with that disconsolate sound. A few rogue tears spilled onto his cheeks. “Fuck,” he hissed between his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he bowed his head. He knew that. He knew it, he just didn’t want to accept it. 

Holland’s thick hand rubbed at his back, short rough strokes, before he continued. “The supernatural community is dangerous, Clint, and you all live on the fringe of death every day—you know that even better than I do. It’s why I need your help.” 

He gestured to Ben and Kincaid, encompassing the make shift command station, the ambiguous motion somehow including their futility. “As much as this is our livelihood, we’re still just laymen when it comes to the supernatural community, to the intricacies of how magic works and how you operate.” He sighed, showing every inch of his sympathy in the gaze he locked onto Clint. 

“Please, son, help me stop this from happening to other people, while we still can.” 

Swallowing thickly, Clint coughed on a sob, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I hate when you’re right,” he choked out, sniffling. 

“I hate when I’m right too,” Holland answered sadly, leaving is hand on Clint’s shoulder in support. 

It took several long minutes for Clint to get ahold of himself, and he felt exhausted as he raised his head. The heels of his hands dug into this eyes, trying to clear away the tears. Holland backed off, returning to his chair at the head of the table. 

He sighed, looking around at the other officers, trying to push his hair back. “I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted, and these two are definitely exhausted. When was the last time they slept in a bed?” 

Holland huffed, exasperated. “I couldn’t get them to leave after the raid for longer than it took to shower and grab more clothes. That was about 72 hours ago, I don’t know that they’ve left this room unless they told each other to shower and eat. Kincaid is taking this personally, and Ben is always along for the ride.” 

Clint raised an eyebrow, staring at him sideways. “They together?” 

“Going on eight years, partners before that, and don’t you look at me like that either,” he said, pointing a finger at him. “They’re the best damn tactical team I’ve come across, I’d be downright stupid to try and split them up. 

Raising his hands in surrender, Clint let the subject go. Supernatural squads didn’t always follow the book, but they couldn’t if they wanted results. “Do the nurses have a rack room they’d consider letting us use?” 

“Yeah, the Chief of the hospital already pulled some of the bunks they have for their on call people into an empty room. It’s cramped, but it’ll do. Help me get ‘em up.” 

Grinning, Clint kicked the chair out from under Ben’s feet and laughed at his snorted yelp as the other man shot up, sheets of paper falling to the floor. 

Holland chuckled, shaking Kincaid awake, “c’mon, Sleeping Beauty, we’ll pick this up after you get a few hours of shut eye.” Kincaid tried to argue, a mumbled complaint that was incomprehensible as he raised his head, bleary eyes blinking owlishly. “Ah-ah! I’ll listen to your objections when you can enunciate.” 

Helping Ben to his feet, his glasses still askew, they followed Holland. The large hospital afforded them a lot of distance between the conference room and the patient rooms, but Holland led them back to toward the nurses station, the empty room apparently near the patients.  

The nurse from before, Olivia, was glaring at a computer like it had personally offended her mother. She looked up at them as they passed, and Clint could smell the worry and stress on her, tell-tale lines marring her makeup. He nodded at her, and saw her face soften a fraction as she looked over Ben and Kincaid. “Get some actual sleep, all of you,” she ordered, “I don’t want to be your nurse; you don’t want me to be your nurse.” The threat was clear, and they all saluted her as they made their way into their designated room. 

One of the doors to a patient’s room opened, and Clint sneezed, making sure to cover his mouth and nose as the scent of sickness, stress, and hurt invaded his nostrils. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, “I hate hospitals.” 

Kincaid shrugged out of the police issued hoodie he was wearing, tossing it at his head. “Here, Copper, take a whiff of that.” 

Clint rolled his eyes at the movie reference. “I’m getting real tired of the bloodhound jokes,” he grumbled, throwing the hoodie over his shoulder. His eyes widened though as the scent of rosemary and magic hit his overstimulated nostrils. Shoving the hoodie against his nose, he took a deep breath and snapped his head over to raise his eyebrows at Kincaid. “Well, that woulda been nice to know!” Clint growled, a little of his shock bleeding over into the words. It wasn’t often a witch took him by surprise. 

Said witch laughed as he turned into a door way after Holland and Ben, who were also chuckling, climbing onto the closest top bunk. “I’m surprised you didn’t get a bead on me earlier, I heard werewolves have super sniffers.” He shrugged sheepishly, “I’m really not strong enough to do anything with the magic, never delved into it, but maybe it’ll help with the hospital smell.” He smiled at his partner from his height as the slightly older man took his glasses off and set them carefully on a counter. “C’mon, slow poke.”

“You’re an over grown child,” Ben grumped, pointing at him in mock outrage. 

“The problem with hospitals,” Clint explained, “is that I can’t smell a whole lot over everything that’s going on. Too many hormones, bodily fluids, and cleaning supplies.” Clint climbed onto the empty bottom bunk, opposite to Holland as the Captain let them bicker, the older man sitting on the already rumpled bunk below Kincaid and kicking off his shoes.

Ben shut off the light before he crawled up next to Kincaid. “Shut up, you two,” he grumbled, thwumping down, pulling the blanket over Kincaid’s face. 

Holland kicked the bottom of their bunk as the furniture gave a slightly ominous creak. “I swear to god, if you two fall on me, you’re both fired.” 

“Sir, yes sir!” They both replied. 

Shaking his head, Clint made himself comfortable under the thin hospital issue sheets, putting Kincaid’s hoodie over the pillow. He felt slightly silly, using the other man’s clothes basically as a gas mask, but anything was better than the thick aroma of bleach on the pillow case. 

Even with the lights off, the busy streetlight peeked through the blinds, illuminating the two men on the top bunk. He sighed, wanting Nico, to hold him close and make sure his Mate was safe. Even if the bond wasn’t formed yet, he wanted him. He wanted to make sure all of his pack was safe, the raw wound that Holland had dealt making an itch to check on Illyn, the other folks down in Louisiana. Gotta ask to borrow a phone tomorrow. 

Sniffing, he held the pillow close, analyzing the undertow of scents. Rosemary. Lime. Garlic. Gunpowder. The tickling scent of magic mixed with them, a memory of a memory wafting across his brain. He could swear that he smelled Markus, not Kincaid, but he sighed, pushing the thought away. 

His talk with Holland was too close, that’s all. Still, he held on to the scent as he fell asleep, a vague comfort against the ache. 

[kunalsingh417]

Why Are Transporting Dead Bodies Considered As A Huge Deal?

Funerals are a wholly sad event. The death of a loved one is hard to be dealt with. But whether you are up for it or not, there is a need to get the formalities done. This includes transporting the dead body from place to place. This dead body transfer is carried out in funeral vans or hearse vans.

Memorial service vans or funeral wagon vans

These vehicles that are involved in transporting dead bodies are generally alluded to as funeral wagon vans. You might observe many organisations that offer dead body transfer vehicles or hearse vans.

• Need: It has become even more a need rather than an extravagance. It is an honourable method of shipping the expired starting with one spot then onto the next for incineration. The dead body needs to be transferred with extreme care. It should be kept in standard conditions so that it does not develop any infection. Also, the deceased body may give out infections or bacteria into the environment. The vehicle needs to be sterilized to avoid these scenarios from happening.

• Indian culture: As you most likely are aware, Indian culture is solid on customs and last rituals, the dead are to be incinerated by totally set standards. Various religions have various arrangements of rules to be observed. In any case, every one of them ends with incinerating the body without a doubt. Along these lines, transportation is a need regardless. The need for dead body transfer is real considering every angle.

• Transport: Hearse vehicles or vans have every one of the offices expected to ship a carcass from a medical clinic or house to the incineration place. It very well may be a nearby graveyard or a private patio. It is used widely for transporting dead bodies upon requirement. You could even request for the van to be decorated as per requirement. In some cases, you can put on flex boards with the picture of the deceased on the van so that people can be informed about the last rites as well.

• Storage: There are a few occasions where the body should be put away for a little while. For instance, assuming that the family members of the deceased are abroad and expect time to reach, there will emerge a need to store the body till then, at that point. This requires a commute to the morgue for the body to be kept in the cooler. Such instances also call for the need for a funeral van to transport the dead body.

A funeral car van can prove to be useful in this large number of situations. You can find free and paid organizations anyplace. Remember that the free administrations are typically run by NGOs. You can avail of their service without even meeting them in person. These organisations have sites online for you to browse through and choose a funeral package that suits your budget. It is available for every last-minute need and will be at your service till the whole funeral is over.

[alwaysmercy]

Longings and Hospice Hopes

For those of you who travel with me through the words on this blog, you’re probably aware of my longing to open a hospice house in rural western Kenya.

Longing creates a sense of anticipation and hope. Longing also involves a sense of loss as what was once imagined morphs into something new.  Longing also requires patience, and even more patience. Perhaps you are wondering along with me, “Is this project ever going to get off the ground?”

When Kenyan Pastor David Chuchu, director of Diakona Compassionate Ministry (DCM), and I first began talking about the hospice project back in 2012, we envisioned a cozy little cottage with a few beds where the suffering and dying could lay their weary heads and receive mercy care.  Over several years, we made visits to a few hospices in Kenya. One hospice is housed inside a hospital run by the Sisters of Mercy in western Kenya. (In fact, a few years ago David’s mother-in-law, Rose, received end-of-life care there.)  Another hospice near Kip Karen in northwestern Kenya showed us we need much more than a little cottage and a few staff to provide proper care.  We need to have a clinic, lab, physical therapy, medical offices, an incinerator for medical waste, and a cafeteria. And we eventually will need housing for staff and visitors. We will also need a morgue (more about this in another post). Some of these will be income generating, (clinic and morgue), helping us reach a goal of a self-sustaining palliative care center. And of course, central to our mission, will be the need for a chapel where folks can come and receive the gifts of Christ and rest for their weary souls.

I continue to learn the shape of dreams must change and grow, even as plans on paper change.

Originally, the land on a gorgeously verdant slope near a river that a rural community had donated-- land which held my footprints and renewed visions for this hospice house—had to be left behind.  While we had the support of the community for this project, the government was slow to act. We were not getting the government stamp of approval which would allow us to proceed.

So, we have new land!  Purchased and ready to go.  It’s a beautiful acre parcel nestled next to trees and farmland in the same rural area as our previous site and now we own it!  Also, we are in negotiations to purchase an additional acre of land, giving us room to expand as needed. The geography of the new land is flat which will make construction easier and less expensive. However, there is no river access, so we need to drill a borehole for water.  Right now, the architect is fine-tuning the original renderings to fit this new parcel.

New land--rich and fertile

Here is where we are currently:

First, we need to get the land officially transferred to DCM and get a water survey done to determine the depth of drilling needed for water. Right now, the estimated cost for drilling a borehole and adding a water pump is between $15,000-$20,000 (I’m trying not to gasp!) Second, we need to register a name for the hospice and clinic, one that carries our mission and vision of mercy to the suffering and dying.  Once registered, then we can break ground.

New parcel of land, awaiting addition of another acre

Pastor Chuchu is working hard on all these steps.

David has the experience and background to get things done.  I’ve known him since 2006 when I first stepped foot on Kenyan soil. He has become a trusted mentor, a colleague in Christ and a dear friend. In addition to being an ordained minister, he has several degrees: a diploma in journalism, bachelor’s and master’s degrees in project planning and management, and of course a master’s of divinity in religious studies.

David and Pamela 2012-- Colleagues and Friends

David’s credentials are obvious, his skills impeccable, but most of all, he is a man of mercy who doesn’t give up. He manages many projects. He directs successful non-profit organizations through DCM. He is a construction project manager and has built a resort and even his own hotel—both income generating to support DCM projects. We are fortunate to have his expertise and steadfastness.

David and his lovely wife, Mary, 2016

I’m also pleased to announce that the launch of this hospice project is under the care of Diakonia Compassionate Ministries (Bringing Hope to the Hopeless) in Kenya and Curatio Mundi (Healing the World) out of Texas.  This partnership opens doors for more folks to be involved in this project and makes donations easy!  Tax deductible donations to the hospice project can be made directly through the Curatio Mundi website curatiomundi.org -- simply click on Kenya Hospice.  (Project updates will be posted there as well).

Of course, you may also mail your donations to Curatio Mundi at P.O. Box 4101 Longview, TX 75606

Or Holy Cross Lutheran Church, 4701 Grove St. Rocklin, CA 95677.

Earmark checks for “Kenya Hospice”.

Always Mercy,

Pamela

[designfordesplay]

Site:Waitangi Park Wellington

Brief description:  Waitangi Park is bounded by Oriental Parade, Cable Street and Herd Street.

The park has a large grassed area, a skateboard park and an innovative playground, but its most distinctive feature is the re-created wetland – the vegetation and gravels are designed to filter and cleanse the Waitangi Stream, which for years ran in an underground storm-water culvert.

Accessibility:  The park is flat.

Dogs: Dogs must be kept on a leash.

History: Waitangi Stream once fed a more extensive wetland used for centuries by Māori for food-gathering, as a source of fresh water, and as a place to launch waka.

European plans to turn the stream into a canal ended when the 1855 earthquake lifted the land by 1.5 metres.  After land reclamation, the stream became part of the underground storm-water system.

Over the last century the park has been a number of things including the site of a morgue, a bus park and a huge incinerator.

http://www.skateparkhunter.com/skatepark/new-zealand/waitangi-skatepark/

“Half park/half sculpture Waitangi skatepark in Wellington is a great improvement to the old Chafers Skatepark that used to be there. It boasts one of the best bowls in New Zealand and has a 2-3 lane street course that lets you grind the planters, jib the rocks, weave through basket-ballers and whatever else you can fit in while trying to avoid the lure of the bowl. Not an easy task. “

why have i chosen this space?

There are people that disagree with skateboarders and wheels or graffiti in general so staying within a space dedicated to skateboarding, a space for people to show their creative freedom/art and sport.

A space to interact. 

a space to trial and error.

for everyone and all who wish to be there.

[glopratchet]

retirement-home

of astryl wylde, and barricades with blood, the remains of an undead army, a large group of humans are marching towards the castle to capture the young novitiates, astro's guiding light fading fast with helmets for some reason, from something identifying itself as a "police officer" but definitely not a demonic entity of the infernal plane site guarded by a meched out robot called "m swapping out the rubble squad and suddenly yelling a number of racial slurs and insults directed at the current heroes A love maze hacked into by bandits, going around cutting and gauze coming off a machete and suddenly being used against the whores' fathers, uncles, brothers floating in a tank above The treasure room: filled with safe deposit boxes, but dead heroes Solid walls made of muscle for demonic possession Ex-hero turned torturer absorbed into whores' father made out of rusting car bodies made out of body parts glowing pink chamber, aces and other high rollers lounging around a blackjack table Turing machine with tape recorder attached instead of computer staring down from trees floating along a river A long red carpet leading up to a complex of caves holding a dark tower a technological compound located in a maze beneath guild fortress Gold ingot affixed to tires of an abandoned sports car protruding from wall taking brains out of tank to make adjustments to cyborg Roller derby taking place inside maglev train leading to a red brick factory building upright on two legs topped with a canine snout, ears replaced by headphones, tongue replaced by a forked length of metal a graveyard and defended by ghouls, zombies saying with broken english howling at the gates that lead inside a rubber hose with one end inserted into chest, pumping the other end until it hisses air and injects it into arm y brain lying beneath skull-shaped ashtray Giant bloodworm forcibly injects itself into car accident, taking on the role of defense attorney and saving heroes replaced with roided out hospital patient with tribal tattoos reading a "health" pamphlet with pitbull head cropping up in mineshaft, howling back cheese-loving rabbit filling hole with maggots Bloody biker gang defending hooligans fishing bodies out of ocean Skull toting around a around cafeteria, trading blood packets for peanut butter sandwiches residential hallway lined with dark brick leading to a incinerator chute pizza spinning hypnotically as center of hivecraft bakery built inside Giant brain in a jar of green fluid hooked up to many machines pumping red pills Bloody agent off-duty, taking day off to work in sweaty coal mine filled with moles Mutations of ingredient animals leading up to cafeteria's meat locker working in a padded cell and making tight knots in ropes Sonar tech dolphin with human teeth crafting perfect 3D pictures out of translucent paper, always watching the chemical reaction, spoon-stirring clear liquid in pipe cleaner frame bottle Lightbulbs with eyes replacing the head, leading a team of roaches performing circadian mowing grass and trees with buzzing electric clippers beloved pet in attempt at perfect skin, cat with hair all bunched up in chaotic star pattern Manic pixie dream druggie replacing chemicals with luminol illnesses no doctor ever has, discovering new syndromes furry rodent, making sure every hair lies gently over the next Scat singing improvising jazz demon leading a pan flute band an asian woman, being walked on a leash by an obese man in a midlife crisis Bioengineering two headed kitten replacing scientists at atomic clock facility Man a roguish charm that tricks victims of violent crimes into turning themselves in damed, fragile corpse up close for police records Catalogue everything beautiful in a cold and calculated manner with peer before leaving them to die A day where everything is perfect for absolutely nobody senile luddite lacking cranial ports who stays such a frenzy that artificial hands replace natural ones replacing trash collecting truck's engine with that of a car Security guard painted gold using celebrity blood as self tanner Utility fog turning city street into haunted mansion destroyed by plane Fairies farming fungi fairy rings Derro experimenting on golem skin disease, making a metal plague to wipe out rival syndicate hobgoblins submerging residential area in a hyperbolic chamber rewarding monsters for dedicated service with a paint job on new runway leading into neon-illuminated fog Runners delivering pot of gold to sitting area tied to railroad tracks Man selling barbed wire to fence with visual malfunction Snapdragon seed sputtering in the breeze And that's it! everyone within an inch of their lives Resident egghead removing backwards writing from all police reports Having enamored a river spirit, a bargain is struck to collecting fruit and making uncanny valley holograms to sell as produce Zombie-eyed infant model eating solar cells as curiosity takes over artistic lense Times New Roman self-diagnosed sociopath who tries to take over the world as an act of revenge taking illegal guns and replacing the gunpowder with stool softener Solar panels operating at peak efficiency by day and glowing at night Please upvote this post in an abandoned neon sign These demons raid the servers of a famous novelist Volume brought to deafening levels as class projects flood in dealing with zombie plague and masquerading pain as pleasure Mistaken for a super nova, space station is mistaken for a UFO under blankets of stars quite easily addressed Foundation comprised of passionate, yet incompetent white knights struggling with iron overload juggernaut commanding the respect of a king Haymaker left hook causing immediate and fatal brain damage to some athletes with daddy issues turning dreams into internet points and punching the rich in their bourgeoisie Instructing demons to train dogs for protection based on urban legend Preparing urchin homes in tubes and lizard scales dreaming up exo-planetary bloodsports Crowdsurfing at Heavybites concert into a vat of toxic waste into a hillside of two-bit crimes and dead-end jobs Releasing heavy metal album with medieval torture devices as inspiration Putting down shelter stopping hearts filled with a lethal amount of painkillers leaves bowl half-empty for some reason and nervous twists of a bumbling idiot Chauffeuring the coffin hotel This rotten carrion feasting on hospital waste deserves attention hundreds of miles long covered with thousands of tons of garbage on garbage Making doilies from human teeth Lycanthropic rats offer discounted heroine in their tunnel maze booths surrounded by runaway trains Exports include sewage and toxic waste Graveyard of shoddily screened phones with worn-out batteries Releasing coral snakes and Toll booth to a bankrupt turnpike Skipping to East L because getting their prescription renewed is taking too damned long! hotel of Xeno-produced downtempo Music streaming through cheap speakers Barges full of deer draped in Goji berries Dozens of ladders addict promoting solar panels with faded tattoos Drugs and hookers bleeds dry host more every day A group of cloaked hags make their rounds Matching silver bracelets disguise gang colors of an old woman living on main drag Empty ranch house discarded for the city lights Unlicensed doctors freshly painted headstones of wind smelling like aftershave and formaldehyde injections made from crushed insects Whole-bodied automatons trying out hip new clothing brands Tendency for the mindless army to follow their leader slav to enhance strength and agility by a factor of eight Long-stem rose for a first-date dinner with a vampire fanatics chanting for human- hunting competitions in the arena Secondary arm used for primary, seeing if it can continue without it illuminated by a pulsating womblike membrane Arrival at ached-foretold destination with dead GPS Masterful motion detector sitting on empty leather chair of recently liquidated telemarketers Colonies of jeweled spiders weaving new master's throne Perfectly reflective floors leading to underground pool virtuoso playing songs to his plants Mound of excrement and toilet paper curling around the drain pieced together into castle for dolls and action figures Lifetime of old newspapers piling up in hallway of seahorse and conch shells in curio cabinet Acrylic Zombie feet used as bookends on Ikea coffee table pile of sea anemone skeletons See: Quagga mussels growing 1 5 inches every day loading chemical feeding frenzy Metal lockbox and two dozen melted pistol barrels Dislocated limbs being surgically removed cooks lifting boxes full of organs Autopsied child with fatal cranial swelling Colony of epileptic coral clustered around human skull surgeon and his mentally defective assistant A morgue disguised as a taxidermy museum gift shop -infected calendars stuck on random dates Bags overflowing with leaking saline-solution and blood hopelessly pushing Humvees to get them out of the way Wading through crunchy autumn leaves for miles shot adding two more hours to cheat death Barefoot and wrapped in bloody bath towels Corpse itching from maggots displaced by fresh cuts bricked into their own hallway Everybody gets the shits after drinking the water monster from a Japanese horror film with skin parasites Big black frothing chunks of flesh exploding diarrhea of nose-hair-clogging, dense, mucusy goo some old Indian told you your first week in the hotel Some see it as a disease safe haven and refugee camp determination of the sub-conscious brain's fears Some beachside and forest hideouts in the middle of nowhere of the deceased 28th President's daughter Stinging insects populate the surrounding swamps Send in the military to cleanse everyone and everything of the rot-resistant zippers on your forefather's safe for vision and ideas by the GSA-appointed leader Litigation between bloodthirsty lawyers and corrupt jury from melted snow trickling down the walls Camouflage in the forest, grass, and rocks all around you from your double-crossing, brimstone- hellbound Father Surgical removal of parasitic twin fetuses attached to your spine the cyborg supervisor monitoring your every move Catalogs flooding the hotel with trade workers and potential hostages men making a 100% more effort-- 300% more loot! Blood-caked machete meat cleaver thrown into the furnace razors, and other crucial supplies consumed The neon light flickering imitates the rhythm of hums pearls, and other gems for portraits sitting on dressers Variety of knickknacks and memorabilia from around the world toys sweep under pillows and between mattresses Forlorn light saffron-robed monks shed quiet tears industrial perfumes pumped into your room suffocate you Silverfish skeletons and moth wings piling up in the closet sprays spaying your gardenview room Useless, broken gimmicks and gadgets electrocuting you haggle over who gets what and how it'll be used Which schools, sketchy private or governmental organizations get to screen for fieldtrips and celebration of masculinity Musicians for weekend retreats to get high Surgeons for classes struggling to keep up for the cold, plague-infested northern frontier Soldiers for war-games and accidentally killing each other competitors for photo shoots and competitions None because they think they can get somewhere on their own They do amazing things with what they've got gays wallow in the cheapest corner of the hotel Young, impressionable experimenting homosexuals The families of same-gender lovers banished to malnutrition zones to change you from Utopian to sub-human in a breeding program Inferior Americans with the wrong genes will be eradicated and manufacturers get rich, corpse eaters the opposite Sorrowful fatties give their children a once in a generation chance at life redesigned with supermodel abs and bulging muscles bred for biological and sociological experiments millennia ago The 21st century the pool of vomit and dirty needles floats by -colored sludge oozes over the city Cranial- defects, alcoholics, and degens create empires glide everywhere and everything is shared Psychedelic trance dancing to save the world too gross for red-blooded humans The rotting, fetid meat that passes for brains siphon powers from the ancient sewage system Rats and lice feasting on trash and mutants overcoming your will to live one moment at a time Your filthy naked body marinated in blood and vomit high-arched feet battered and bruised and malnutrition give you anemia, Goiters the size of melons throb and pulse Yet your calf muscles bulge with power The clomping of your hooves crushing stones Finally given a chance to prove your worth glow in the radiated water and cantaloupes distended and heavy with juice Baskins & Robbins 31 flavors of ice cream in a cone -diving maggots and fleas for under privileged or anyone! Laborers unloading the freshest of arrivals truck and ladies' man for the sweetest girlies in town Down-on-their luck drifters including paroled thieves, dealers and pimps buggy racing across the desert on a stimulant Steal to survive, thrive by wits alone or turn tricks clothing snatching the eyes The safest, usually with a jewelry store in the basement Branding, tattoos and body mods done on site army boys marching in lockstep Take the mopping job to be close to princess fresh blood their hearts pump gunpowder and their minds are weapons Not eligible for mind-wipe or re- placement drinking vodka instead Bio-engineering students replace bodies with machines Take ancient engine of destruction for a joyride feeding time at the botanical garden Plush and velvet splendor in a chintz chair Women have success, men fail at the Bite-o-Mania food cart An illegal basement chop shop for bikes and cars and cold, hard cash covered in a soft, warm peritoneum Working stiff possessed by envy for the office drone The deserters next attack could be your bunker Wayward sentinent Kryton tubes generating waste heat unlikely to survive outside controlled environment Thought-leader and crowd-driver influencing the masses are almost human, subject to scientific curiosity Livery with carved iconography and bright colors Mendicants, beggers and mercenaries almost pick your own lot Old Mother Mallard's Rusty Charognards Saloon Gliding as long as possible until the last moment The screaming and wailing of fetid winds If too deep you'll fall the rest of the way through the earth and hit whatever is on the other side This is the essence of skydiving or free falling in layman's terms so you may substitute it for the eggs damaging it or even break so try for that speed also, learn the location you will fall or descend from and do you math using the freefall calculator on this site i give you : Just forward momentum, right? Well it really isn't it's just like anchoring a parachute except your moving object is the Earth and not yourself ther are lines in this story that just keep tugging away at you after losing your love to the treachery of a jealous witch hmF! Sorry, my intent was not to stubivkzny ah, I mean stQrb? b you

[allthemfingpoems]

A Finger

After most of the bodies were hauled away and while the FBI and the Fire Department and NYPD were still haggling about who was in charge, as smoke cleared, the figures in Tyvek suits came, gloved, gowned, masked, ghostly figures searching rubble for pieces of people, bagging, then sending the separate and commingled remains to the temporary morgue set up on site. This is where the snip of forefinger began its journey. Not alone, of course, but with thousands of other bits not lost or barged off with the tonnage for sorting at the city landfill. A delicate tip, burnt and marked "finger, distal" and sent over to the Medical Examiner's, where forensic anthropologists sorted human from animal bones from Trade Center restaurants, all buried together in the Pompeian effect of incinerated dust. The bit of finger (that might have once tapped text messages, potted a geranium, held a glass, stroked a cat, tugged a kite string along a beach) went to the Bio Lab where it was profiled, bar-coded, and shelved in a Falcon tube. Memorial Park—that is to say: the parking lot behind the ME— droned with generators for the dozens of refrigerated trucks filling with human debris, while over on the Hudson at Pier 94 families brought toothbrushes or lined up for DNA swabbing. As the year passed, the unidentified remains were dried out in a desiccation room—humidity pumped out, heat raised high— shriveled, then vacuum sealed.                                                            But the finger tip had a DNA match in a swab from her brother. She was English. 30 years old. She worked on the 105th floor of the North Tower. The Times ran a bio. Friends posted blogs. Her father will not speak about it. Her mother planted a garden in Manhattan. In that garden is a tree. Some look on it and feel restored. Others, when the wind lifts its leaves, want to scream.

-John Balaban

from Empires

[toweringfiction]

Tower-ing Fiction #12: The Continental, John Wick series (2014- )

by Shawn Gilmore

The successful gunplay-based John Wick franchise—at current count, three films, a comic-book series, and a prospective television series—focuses on the titular hitman John Wick, as he attempts to extricate himself from an increasingly convoluted system of contracts, markers, rival hitmen, and an arcane governing bureaucracy. Key to the world of these contract killers are a series of hotels known as The Continental, apparently with branches in most major cities worldwide.

In the first film, John Wick (dirs. Chad Stahelski & David Leitch, 2014), the New York City branch of The Continental is introduced, owned by the enigmatic Winston, his hotel serving as a sanctuary, governed by specific rules and prohibitions. Specifically, no business (ie, murders) can be conducted on the grounds of The Continental, which of course becomes a problem for Wick as the films progress.

The exteriors of the New York City Continental use the real-world 1 Wall Street Court (also known as the Beaver Building and once home to the Cocoa Exchange), a triangular building with a rounded façade facing the intersection of Wall, Pearl, and Beaver Streets.

Originally completed in 1904, 1 Wall Street Court resembles the iconic Flatiron Building but is only fifteen stories and some 205 feet tall. Built in a neo-Renaissance style and now primarily filled with condominiums and a sushi restaurant, the skyscraper is now dwarfed by its neighboring financial buildings, such as the fifty-story 60 Wall Street (two blocks away, housing the American headquarters of of Deutsche Bank) and the fifty-seven story 20 Exchange Plaza (a block west on Beaver Street, originally built to house the companies that formed CitiGroup).

In the John Wick universe, however, 1 Wall Street Court/The Continental is a not only a sanctuary for assassins, but it is also an even-changing site for a variety of dramatic discussions, fight scenes, and killings, appearing differently in each film.

We first see The Continential in John Wick (2014) when Wick pulls up to use its services. Other than a nondescript awning, featuring only a “C” and obscuring the Haru Sushi sign), the building appears fairly pedestrian, camouflaging the goings-on within.

As he will in all three films, Wick proceeds through a thin lobby (filmed in the Cunard Building) to meet the concierge, Charon, before heading up to his eight-floor room above the main entrance.

He then heads down through the hotel into a basement club, complete with a band, to find Winston. And for the first film, that’s all we see of The Continental.

In John Wick: Chapter 2 (dir. Chad Stahleski, 2017), Wick again returns to The Continental, meeting Charon and this time leaving his new dog safely with the concierge.

This time, Wick meets Winson in a lounge/reading room (filmed at The Jane Hotel), where he also will spill blood at the end of the film, rendering him (in the parlance of the John Wick franchise) excommunicado.

However, things are a bit off when we see The Continental’s rooftop, as we do mid-way through John Wick: Chapter 2. Wick emerges onto a rooftop garden where Winston advises him to honor his commitments. Notably, the doorway is flanked by Deco statutes, and the scene is prominently in the shadow of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, making this one of the rooftop gardens at Rockefeller Center (viewers might recognize these as where Spider-Man drops off Mary Jane in Spider-Man (dir. Sam Raimi, 2002)). This bit of visual incongruity will become the hallmark of The Continental in the next installment.

In John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum (dir. Chad Stahleski, 2019), The Continental receives some upgrades—odd, as the course of events for the three film is specifically called out as having taken place over the last few weeks…

The main entrance and lobby appear as they have previously, this time as the Adjudicator arrives to sort out Wick’s mess from the previous film.

However, somewhere just off the lobby is an expansive multi-story bar and lounge, a room far too large to fit within the confines of 1 Wall Street Court/The Continental as we had understood them. Filmed at the Williamsburgh Savings Bank, this huge space is introduced to support a climactic multi-part gunfight, with Wick and Charon fending off the Adjudicator’s forces.

John Wick: Chapter 3 also introduces a multi-story sub-basement space that serves as storage, a morgue, and an incinerator. The relation of this space to the club introduced in the first film is unclear.

And, The Continental now contains an elaborate armory safe room, which acts as an operations center for Wick, Charon, and Winston.

However, the most visually striking addition to The Continental is the “administrative lounge,” a glass cage, seemingly built atop part of the building. Winston describes the space as such: “we only use this room on special occasions—when you simply have to see what your opponent is holding under the table.” This elaborate location (which was built on a soundstage) contains at least three floors, starting with a lower floor decorated with glass (crystal?) skulls in rectangular frames. When Wick reaches the end of the lower level, we see the upper edge of The Continental, implying that this is built directly on top of the building, making it visible from any of the many surrounding buildings.

A middle floor—on which a number of fights occur, is dominated by a series of screens and projections (visually borrowing from James Bond’s fight with Patrice in Skyfall (dir. Sam Mendes, 2012)). Visually, this is the most open moment of the films, rendering Wick’s exposure architecturally, even if it violates the logic of The Continental (hiding these hired killers from the world) and the architecture of 1 Wall Street Court (there is no way this is congruent with the building we’ve been shown). Stairs lead up to a third floor, though we don’t see it in the course of the film.

Finally, contributing to the shifting logic and nature of The Continental, John Wick: Chapter 3 features another rooftop scene, this time with an exaggerated, gothic fireplace and a different entrance, contradicting the previous installment, or contributing to the mercurial nature of The Continental.

[franchristiaan]

This is the main entrance to Auschwitz II (Birkenau). Auschwitz II–Birkenau went on to become a major site of the Nazi Final Solution to the Jewish Question. From early 1942 until late 1944, transport trains delivered Jews to the camp's gas chambers from all over German-occupied Europe, where they were killed en masse with the pesticide Zyklon B. - There are 4 crematoria in the Auschwitz II, designed as a mortuary with morgues in the basement and ground-level incinerators, was converted into a killing factory by installing gas-tight doors, vents for the Zyklon B (a highly lethal cyanide-based pesticide) to be dropped into the chamber, and ventilation equipment to remove the gas thereafter. Most of the victims were killed using these four structures. - An estimated 1.3 million people were sent to the camp, of whom at least 1.1 million died. Around 90 percent of those killed were Jewish; approximately 1 in 6 Jews killed in the Holocaust died at the camp. Others deported to Auschwitz included 150,000 Poles, 23,000 Romani and Sinti (Gypsies), 15,000 Soviet prisoners of war, 400 Jehovah's Witnesses, and tens of thousands of others of diverse nationalities, including an unknown number of homosexuals. Many of those not killed in the gas chambers died of starvation, forced labor, infectious diseases, individual executions, and medical experiments. - Auschwitz II Birkenau was liberated by the Red Army at around 3:30 p.m. on 27 January 1945, and the main camp (Auschwitz I) two hours later. At that time, the soldiers found 7,500 prisoners alive and over 600 corpses. Among items found by the Soviet soldiers were 370,000 men's suits, 837,000 women's garments, and 7.7 tonnes (8.5 short tons) of human hair. Some of items are exhibited in the now Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum. - (22/09/2017) #auschwitz #auschwitzbirkenau #auschwitzii #auschwitzgate #poland #oswiecim #holocaust #latepost #throwback #europe #eurotrip (at Auschwitz - Birkenau death camp)

[karlamazov-blog]

Graveyards: Ostentatious Waste or Irrational Drain of Resources?

    Inarguably, among the greatest wastes of space and resources in society are graveyards. Apart from being lovely locales for picnics, birthday parties, self-spooking, seances, uncomfortable and clandestine teenage sex and petty vandalism, graveyards serve no useful purpose. The practice of erecting gravestones is a gaudy and silly exercise in ego. Planting a pretty, expensive stone into a plot of land, land which would have otherwise been put to beneficial use, is, if we are being honest with ourselves, tacky. It’s a passive-aggressive way of a former-person’s surviving relations saying, “Look at me! I love a dead person! And I can prove the measure of my love with money!”; or in the case of the deceased, “Look at me! I’m dead and of no use to anyone, but I still demand to be acknowledged and take up physical space!” And don’t kid yourself, that is precisely what they are shouting, if not literally. A gravestone, depending on whether you cheap out on one of those flat little sunken-in ones or you splurge on one of the classic upright models, is going to put you out anywhere between a few hundred and ten-thousand dollars. Mind you, that is only the cost of the stone itself, not factoring in the considerable expenses of the plot of land in which to plant the thing and the service of having someone do it for you.   

Cremation has its strengths as a corpse disposal method in terms of minimizing waste, conserving space, and, in the case of funeral pyres and viking funerals, being awesome (name a better way to go out than floating out to sea on a burning boat ~ you can’t ~ being incinerated by dragons doesn’t count), but cremation has its drawbacks. First is the waste of natural gas used to cremate bodies in your standard mortuary/morgue corpse disposal assembly line. Then there is the matter of throwing more harmful greenhouse gases, pollutants, volatile acids, carcinogens into the environment (carbon dioxide carbon monoxide, nitrogen oxide, sulfur oxide, hydrogen chloride and hydrogen fluoride). While these murder-fumes are produced in smaller quantity than in the average car’s exhaust, why jam another straw into the already straw-massacred camel’s back? There is also the matter of cost. A cremation can run you anywhere from $1,500 to $4,000, assuming that you arrange for it to be done through an at least moderately reputable funeral home or crematory. Thousands of dollars for something that could theoretically be done in a backyard bonfire.   

There are advantages to burial, but they are in most cases unutilized. The deceased human body, like the body of any formerly living creature, is a rich treasure trove of nutrients. Our bodies, once having evacuated our consciousnesses, are calorically and nutritionally valuable husks which could and should prove invaluable resources for those life-forms still living. The most immediately obvious use to which corpses could be put is as fertilizer. In a sense, this is already how they are being used in graveyards, except the only plant life drawing any benefit from them are flowers and grass, showy things which are far from being the most expedient usage. The great untapped resource for human corpses is as fertilizer for agricultural production. Farms. Now, I am not suggesting that we ship truckloads of dead bodies out to American farms and dump them unceremoniously onto farmers’ fields. That would be grotesque, not to mention ridiculously inefficient. What I am suggesting is that human corpses be ground into a fine paste, or perhaps a dehydrated powder, which can be safely, easily and respectfully transported to farms, or sold commercially in your neighborhood home and garden store. This use has the advantage not only of being rational and economically practical, but the potential of producing organic produce of a quality and quality heretofore unenjoyed.

    Among the more practical methods of corpse disposal is the practice of sky burial. Practiced in some Chinese provinces and the autonomous regions of Tibet, Qinghai, Sichuan and Inner Mongolia, as well as in Mongolia, Bhutan, Nepal, and parts of India, sky burial is a process through which dead bodies are taken into the mountains, to specially designated sites, where they are left for vultures and weather to strip their bones of flesh and viscera. The theological thinking behind this practice is that it is returning bodies to nature, sending the departed on their journey onward into the sky. It is also, practically thinking, a conscientious way of sharing a meal with our favorite scavengers and birds of prey, and takes little effort on the part of us living humans. We simply drag (or drive, or perhaps arrange a conveyor belt or ski lift situation) our corpses up to the mountain peak and leave them there, allowing nature to clean them to their bones. Now, sure, right now you’re no doubt thinking, Where am I going to find a mountain peak in my middle-American suburban neighborhood? And I’d rather not spend my day off chauffeuring my uncle’s corpse in the trunk of my car. Valid concerns, but worry not. Naturally, there would be corpse depositories conveniently located throughout the country who would handle transportation. This operation would admittedly have expenses, particularly in the early phases of recruiting corpse-handlers and laying tracks for the corpse-trains. For those libertarian types, seeking to look after their own business, they need go no further than their own backyards. Zoning laws permitting, people would be welcome to dispose of their corpses on their own property. A tall flagpole or tree could be a functional substitute for a mountain top, or, failing that, and if acceptable to the property owners, a picnic table or patio could suffice, assuming one is not deterred by the presence of feral scavenger animals on their property for the duration of time it takes them to provide their service.

For the best use of dead bodies as a food source, we turn once more to farming. While cattle may turn their vegan noses up at any meat presented to them as a meal, swine and fowl have no such pretensions. A pig or a chicken will eat virtually anything edible presented to it, happily. While many farmers may skimp on the dietary needs of their livestock, fattening them with corn and ostensible garbage, those who can afford to take more pride in the animals they raise, who perhaps cater to more high-end consumers, supplement the diets of their animals with more nutrient rich foods, animal fats and proteins. Quality chicken farmers, for example, will feed their birds fish, either the bodies or scraps of fish or a readymade dehydrated feed. This produces healthier, more nutrient-rich chickens and eggs, with a higher omega-3 fatty acid content. Granted, your average American may not be quite as healthy as your standard sardine, not to mention rife with hormones, antibiotics and drugs, but this is still a far better use for our corpses than we’ve thus far employed.    

[nancy-astorga]

Mexico’s mass graves illustrate a horrifying norm for those living in cartel-land

Earlier this month, authorities in the eastern Mexican state of Veracruz confirmed that they had recovered 253 skulls from what is believed to be a cartel burial ground.

“Veracruz is an enormous mass grave,” state prosecutor Jorge Winckler said. “It is the biggest mass grave in Mexico and perhaps one of the biggest in the world.”

While its size may distinguish it, it is not the first such discovery in Veracruz. Mass graves have been found in the state for years.

Nor is it the most recent one discovered. Just a few days later, 47 more skulls were unearthed at a site farther south. The remains are thought to be the grisly work of organized-crime groups, which have fought for control of Veracruz for much of the last decade.

Although Winkler called Veracruz an “enormous mass grave,” that designation could well be applied to much of the country.

“There are so many mass graves in Mexico, the country is starting to resemble a Swiss cheese,” Jorge Reveles, a veteran crime reporter who has investigated such graves, told Vocativ in 2014. “The number of graves that hasn’t been found is infinitely larger than the number that has been discovered.”

Many of the graves are likely linked to another feature of the country’s decade-long drug war: the 30,000 people officially reported as disappeared in the country since 2006. (Other analyses suggest the number is much higher.)

“Disappearances have occurred throughout Mexico, however, many of the cases and the mass graves that have been found are concentrated in states that have had a high presence of organized criminal activity as well as operations by federal security forces,” Maureen Meyer, senior associate for Mexico at the Washington Office on Latin America, told Business Insider.

“The northern states of Coahuila, Tamaulipas and Chihuahua have had high numbers of disappearances and several mass graves have been discovered in Coahuila and Tamaulipas, as well as the southern states of Guerrero, Michoacan and Veracruz.”

In 2011, more than 300 bodies were recovered from mass graves in Durango. Dozens of bodies were discovered around the country in 2013.

In Morelos, south of Mexico City, more than 50 bodies were found in a hidden pit last summer, dumped there by Mexican morgue officials in what appears to have been act of incompetence but underscored for many the government’s complicity in cartel activities.

Suspicions of such complicity have been heightened by the government’s seeming inability or unwillingness to mount investigations into mass graves and clandestine burial sites.

A September report from news site Animal Politico found that, over the previous four years, federal police had uncovered only six hidden graves in Veracruz, which has the second-highest number of disappeared people in Mexico, behind Tamaulipas.

Between April and August 2016, however, citizen groups found 90 of them.

One of those citizen groups, Colectivo El Solecito, or Little Sun Collective — formed by mothers of disappeared people — led the effort to unearth the 250 skulls found in Colinas de Sante Fe.

“As the Veracruz case illustrates, it has been the families’ victims, not the Mexican government, that has taken the lead on searching for the disappeared and identifying possible gravesites,” Meyer told Business Insider. “In too many cases throughout Mexico families of the disappeared have encountered negligence, indifference, and inaction by the Mexican government.”

The Mexican government has registered just 13 federal convictions for enforced disappearance. In 22 of the 27 Mexican states with the crime of enforced disappearance, there only been 95 investigations, four indictments, and no convictions.

One of the most prominent cases of forced disappearance was the kidnapping and suspected killing of 43 student-teachers in Guerrero in September 2014.

Local police, military stationed in the area, and the state’s then governor have been accused of complicity in the crime, and the government’s “historical truth” that the students’ bodies were incinerated at a nearby garbage dump have been disputed by scientific analysis.

Not long after the student-teachers’ disappearance, Meyer noted, more than 100 mass graves with at least 136 human remains were discovered in the surrounding area.

“The very fact that Mexico has over 30,000 registered cases of disappeared persons in the past decade, and thousands more which are never denounced by families out of fear, points to a clear failure of Mexican authorities to tackle this issue and work not only to located disappeared persons (either living or deceased) but also prosecute those responsible,” Meyer told Business Insider.

SEE ALSO: Mexico is settling into a violent status quo

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NOW WATCH: EX-DEA AGENT: How I got Mexican drug cartels to trust me

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Mexico’s mass graves illustrate a horrifying norm for those living in cartel-land

Earlier this month, authorities in the eastern Mexican state of Veracruz confirmed that they had recovered 253 skulls from what is believed to be a cartel burial ground.

“Veracruz is an enormous mass grave,” state prosecutor Jorge Winckler said. “It is the biggest mass grave in Mexico and perhaps one of the biggest in the world.”

While its size may distinguish it, it is not the first such discovery in Veracruz. Mass graves have been found in the state for years.

Nor is it the most recent one discovered. Just a few days later, 47 more skulls were unearthed at a site farther south. The remains are thought to be the grisly work of organized-crime groups, which have fought for control of Veracruz for much of the last decade.

Although Winkler called Veracruz an “enormous mass grave,” that designation could well be applied to much of the country.

“There are so many mass graves in Mexico, the country is starting to resemble a Swiss cheese,” Jorge Reveles, a veteran crime reporter who has investigated such graves, told Vocativ in 2014. “The number of graves that hasn’t been found is infinitely larger than the number that has been discovered.”

Many of the graves are likely linked to another feature of the country’s decade-long drug war: the 30,000 people officially reported as disappeared in the country since 2006. (Other analyses suggest the number is much higher.)

“Disappearances have occurred throughout Mexico, however, many of the cases and the mass graves that have been found are concentrated in states that have had a high presence of organized criminal activity as well as operations by federal security forces,” Maureen Meyer, senior associate for Mexico at the Washington Office on Latin America, told Business Insider.

“The northern states of Coahuila, Tamaulipas and Chihuahua have had high numbers of disappearances and several mass graves have been discovered in Coahuila and Tamaulipas, as well as the southern states of Guerrero, Michoacan and Veracruz.”

In 2011, more than 300 bodies were recovered from mass graves in Durango. Dozens of bodies were discovered around the country in 2013.

In Morelos, south of Mexico City, more than 50 bodies were found in a hidden pit last summer, dumped there by Mexican morgue officials in what appears to have been act of incompetence but underscored for many the government’s complicity in cartel activities.

Suspicions of such complicity have been heightened by the government’s seeming inability or unwillingness to mount investigations into mass graves and clandestine burial sites.

A September report from news site Animal Politico found that, over the previous four years, federal police had uncovered only six hidden graves in Veracruz, which has the second-highest number of disappeared people in Mexico, behind Tamaulipas.

Between April and August 2016, however, citizen groups found 90 of them.

One of those citizen groups, Colectivo El Solecito, or Little Sun Collective — formed by mothers of disappeared people — led the effort to unearth the 250 skulls found in Colinas de Sante Fe.

“As the Veracruz case illustrates, it has been the families’ victims, not the Mexican government, that has taken the lead on searching for the disappeared and identifying possible gravesites,” Meyer told Business Insider. “In too many cases throughout Mexico families of the disappeared have encountered negligence, indifference, and inaction by the Mexican government.”

The Mexican government has registered just 13 federal convictions for enforced disappearance. In 22 of the 27 Mexican states with the crime of enforced disappearance, there only been 95 investigations, four indictments, and no convictions.

One of the most prominent cases of forced disappearance was the kidnapping and suspected killing of 43 student-teachers in Guerrero in September 2014.

Local police, military stationed in the area, and the state’s then governor have been accused of complicity in the crime, and the government’s “historical truth” that the students’ bodies were incinerated at a nearby garbage dump have been disputed by scientific analysis.

Not long after the student-teachers’ disappearance, Meyer noted, more than 100 mass graves with at least 136 human remains were discovered in the surrounding area.

“The very fact that Mexico has over 30,000 registered cases of disappeared persons in the past decade, and thousands more which are never denounced by families out of fear, points to a clear failure of Mexican authorities to tackle this issue and work not only to located disappeared persons (either living or deceased) but also prosecute those responsible,” Meyer told Business Insider.

SEE ALSO: Mexico is settling into a violent status quo

Join the conversation about this story »

NOW WATCH: EX-DEA AGENT: How I got Mexican drug cartels to trust me