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Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Question:
"Your people want to make a statue in your honor. What will it be made out of and what victory will it commemorate?" As if I need a bigger ego, right? I suppose this question is more of a reflective one, pulling on the strings of what makes me unique, and what sets me apart from the crowd. I've talked to my mother before about what it takes to get a street named after you, but I never really wanted an entire statue made of me. It just seemed a little excessive, but praise is praise, I suppose. I try to be humble most of the time, but I'm not one to shy away from the lime light, especially if it means something made in my memory. At best, I suppose the only statues that will be made of me will probably just be my tombstone when I die. That counts as a statue right? I expect some marvelous marble slab with a fairly poignant epitaph engraved in a beautiful font, but who knows, I might get something better. However, if the sky's the limit and "my people" care that deeply for me I'd like my statue to be made of the souls of infant children, harvested via a monthly ritual sacrifice. Or is that too extreme? I suppose granite will suffice, or onyx, with jade or emerald embellishments. Yes, that sounds quite pleasing, if you think about it. I'm such a fan of the color green that something as regal as those materials would make for a lovely statue depicting me in some triumphant pose, perhaps with a misconstrued grimace. What I've been stalling to discuss is the reason for this statue's existence. To my knowledge only those of glorious merit are rewarded with a statue in their image, so is it fair to be in the ranks with Abraham Lincoln and a myriad of other influential people? I'd like to say that I'm a wonderful philanthropist. I'd like to say that I'm an entrepreneur for peace and justice, but really, I'm just a writer. So put a pen in my statue's hand and I suppose that will be it. Maybe I'll write some life-altering, time-transcending novel about the tribulations of a teenager, but not even Salinger got a statue. Labels: Jazz |