More fart than art (but it’s a start)

My blog is a terrible, terrible thing at the moment. So much ire. So I thought I might lighten the mood a bit and talk about cannibalism.

I loved Alive by Piers Paul Read, and devoured every page with a catch in my throat. I adore true tales of survival, even more so if it involves a crashed aeroplane. Probably the closest I’ve even been to a vaguely life and death situation was being stranded on a flooded mountainside in Morocco with three boys from Balwyn. My tale is small beer, I know.

The best part of reading books like this, is of course casting oneself in the central dramatic role. What would I do if I were stranded in the Andes with the Uruguayan rugby team??

But would I eventually eat human flesh? Or hold out until the last minute, like Liliana Methol? (they used a chunk of broken glass to cut the meat, and dried it on the roof of the plane, Uruguay-style)


I would probably develop a secret crush on the hairiest rugby player (according to my sources that would be Jose Luis Inciarte, phwawaw).

What if I was injured? Would I calmly push the intestines back into my stomach like one bloke? Drag myself around on the snow with two broken legs? What if I didn’t have the strength to hike out of there? After many attempts, two men hiked for nine days through the snow, to the Chilean side. I’m shit at hiking. Would I choose to stay in the plane, not knowing whether I’d be rescued?

The snow around the plane was littered with urine, faeces, the blood of dead passengers, fat, bone and gristle. They scraped the fat out of the skin and ate it for energy. They initially didn’t eat the head or genitals, but most eventually turned to them in the end. The lungs were apparently the last body part eaten, and by that stage (about 10 weeks after the crash they were rescued) they had gone rancid.

The Catholic Church issued a statement later on saying that what they’d done was in no way a sin; in fact they had nothing to repent because they’d done nothing but preserve their own lives. If you were freezing and starving to death, would you eat your mates? Normally I’d say ‘In a heartbeat’, but after reading Alive I’m not quite so sure.

*I’m attempting to get in touch with my kreative side again, so be patient.

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4 thoughts on “More fart than art (but it’s a start)

  1. Take it apart, slice up the heart (and cook a tart)How about secondary cannibalism? I think here of Robert Pickton, who is on trial for murdering women, grinding up their bodies, feeding them to his pigs and then people eat the pigs. Oink, oink.ocqnomqg lxuzceq

  2. Ta Biby!I have never heard of the concept of secondary cannibalism. Sounds like the sort of things that warps your geneas and makes your kids grow tails etc!

  3. I just made it up.But it is kind of creepy to imagine eating those pigs, isn’t it? I mean even if you’re not a vegetarian.homyp

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