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Tuesday, February 10, 2004

At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig: Travels through Paraguay
by John Gimlette


The police had made a determined effort to horrify. Death was seized upon pointlessly and blankly. Each of the exhibits brought to mind not the detection of crime or the prevention of evil, but the moment of agony, the violent extinction of life. Here were the hands of a strangler, his cold grip cast in plaster. Or a little bowl of skull, hacked from the head of Gaston Gadin, who'd sliced up his parents in 1915. One whole wall had death glossily preserved in snapshots: wives dangling on ropes, blue-lipped and sleepy, throats cut; drivers sloshed around their cars; bodies pulled from fires and a decapitated baby. Perhaps worst of all was the pickling jar: six aborted foetuses clutching at each other blindly, furious at a life wasted in formaldehyde. 'The most abominable crime against humanity', said their little cardboard tombstone.


-typically after reading the extract linked to above i went into glasgow today, where i found this book for a decent price (fopp = £5), so with my pathetic and weak will i gave in to temptation and bought. hopefully it'll be an interesting and educational read...

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