The Gravitational Pull
"See that guy?"
"Which one?"
"The third guy in. He's got a light shirt on, just in front of that other guy with the vest. See him?"
"Um... um... Holy Fuck!!!"
Matthew, the bartender, pointed out "The Right Hand of Satan" at the bar. This man had translucent skin, an average to pudgy build, average height, pale hair and black holes for eyes that spoke pure evil. It gave you the feeling that if you looked in them for longer than a glance you'd get sucked into a vacuum-vortex... of hell.
I yelped and ran away.
At one point he came close enough to me to notice that there were irregular bald patches in a few different parts of his scalp. This was not your typical male-pattern baldness. They were 1-2" in diameter, random, like the patches on a domestic animal. Three in total.
I'd just finished reading Tess Gerritsen's Gravity. Wonderful read. As much as I like dystopian novels, I love thrillers, especially with a forensic bent. Dr. Gerritsen was once a practicing intern, but turned to fiction writing when she started popping out kids. Couple being a hell of a descriptive writer with technical medical knowledge and you've got a winner in my bookshelf. During the read, I had to put the book down, at least 10 times, just keep bile down.
Here's a passage from Gravity:
"When a plane crashes, or an automobile slams into a wall, or a despondent lover makes a suicide leap from a ten-story building, the same forces of deceleration apply. A human body traveling at great speed is abruptly brought to a halt. The impact itself can shatter ribs and send missiles of bone shards into vital organs. It can fracture vertebrae, rupture spinal cords, crush skulls against dashboards or instrument panels.
But even when pilots are fully strapped in and helmeted, even when no part of their body makes contact with the aircraft, the force of deceleration alone can be fatal, because although the torso may be restrained, the internal organs are not. The heart and lungs and great vessels are suspended inside the chest by only tissue attachments. When the torso comes to an abrupt halt, the heart continues to swing forward like a pendulum, moving with such force it shears tissues and rips open the aorta.
Blood explodes into the mediastinum and pleural cavity... "
Ewwww!!
I haven't had a television for a while now, but I remember loving the Operation show on the Learning Channel. They would show full on hair transplants (yick), facelifts (gah!) and my favourite, back surgery (oh, God!). There's something of great marvel to me of seeing the subdermal mechanics of the human body. I've wanted to have an installation of all my friends X-rays mounted on lightbox frames in my loft.
I visited Dr. Gerritsen's site and found a subsection called Creepy Biological Facts.
THE RAPUNZEL SYNDROME
"Bezoars are large masses of indigestible organic matter which are eaten and then get trapped in the stomach. They can be caused by vegetable or fruit fiber (phytobezoars) or by the ingestion of hair (trichobezoars). They are most commonly found in animals. The ancients, in fact, believed that such masses from the stomach of goats possessed magical healing properties, and the word 'bezoar' comes from an Arabic word meaning 'antidote'.
When gastric hairballs occur in humans, the patients are usually children or mentally disturbed women who yank out their own hair and swallow it. A partially bald scalp is an obvious clue. As in a plugged shower drain, the hairs get trapped and tangled in the stomach, accumulating over time, until they cause distension, bloating, and nausea. Long strands from the hairball may extend past the stomach, all the way through the small intestine, and may even reach the colon, a condition known as The Rapunzel Syndrome.
If you've ever fished out a hairball from a plugged shower drain, then you know just how disgusting and smelly they can be. The same can be said for trichobezoars. They are traps for undigested fat and havens for bacteria. That, plus the chronic exposure to gastric juices, makes the matted hairballs turn black and nauseatingly odorous."
... just like The Right Hand of Satan...
"Which one?"
"The third guy in. He's got a light shirt on, just in front of that other guy with the vest. See him?"
"Um... um... Holy Fuck!!!"
Matthew, the bartender, pointed out "The Right Hand of Satan" at the bar. This man had translucent skin, an average to pudgy build, average height, pale hair and black holes for eyes that spoke pure evil. It gave you the feeling that if you looked in them for longer than a glance you'd get sucked into a vacuum-vortex... of hell.
I yelped and ran away.
At one point he came close enough to me to notice that there were irregular bald patches in a few different parts of his scalp. This was not your typical male-pattern baldness. They were 1-2" in diameter, random, like the patches on a domestic animal. Three in total.
I'd just finished reading Tess Gerritsen's Gravity. Wonderful read. As much as I like dystopian novels, I love thrillers, especially with a forensic bent. Dr. Gerritsen was once a practicing intern, but turned to fiction writing when she started popping out kids. Couple being a hell of a descriptive writer with technical medical knowledge and you've got a winner in my bookshelf. During the read, I had to put the book down, at least 10 times, just keep bile down.
Here's a passage from Gravity:
"When a plane crashes, or an automobile slams into a wall, or a despondent lover makes a suicide leap from a ten-story building, the same forces of deceleration apply. A human body traveling at great speed is abruptly brought to a halt. The impact itself can shatter ribs and send missiles of bone shards into vital organs. It can fracture vertebrae, rupture spinal cords, crush skulls against dashboards or instrument panels.
But even when pilots are fully strapped in and helmeted, even when no part of their body makes contact with the aircraft, the force of deceleration alone can be fatal, because although the torso may be restrained, the internal organs are not. The heart and lungs and great vessels are suspended inside the chest by only tissue attachments. When the torso comes to an abrupt halt, the heart continues to swing forward like a pendulum, moving with such force it shears tissues and rips open the aorta.
Blood explodes into the mediastinum and pleural cavity... "
Ewwww!!
I haven't had a television for a while now, but I remember loving the Operation show on the Learning Channel. They would show full on hair transplants (yick), facelifts (gah!) and my favourite, back surgery (oh, God!). There's something of great marvel to me of seeing the subdermal mechanics of the human body. I've wanted to have an installation of all my friends X-rays mounted on lightbox frames in my loft.
I visited Dr. Gerritsen's site and found a subsection called Creepy Biological Facts.
THE RAPUNZEL SYNDROME
"Bezoars are large masses of indigestible organic matter which are eaten and then get trapped in the stomach. They can be caused by vegetable or fruit fiber (phytobezoars) or by the ingestion of hair (trichobezoars). They are most commonly found in animals. The ancients, in fact, believed that such masses from the stomach of goats possessed magical healing properties, and the word 'bezoar' comes from an Arabic word meaning 'antidote'.
When gastric hairballs occur in humans, the patients are usually children or mentally disturbed women who yank out their own hair and swallow it. A partially bald scalp is an obvious clue. As in a plugged shower drain, the hairs get trapped and tangled in the stomach, accumulating over time, until they cause distension, bloating, and nausea. Long strands from the hairball may extend past the stomach, all the way through the small intestine, and may even reach the colon, a condition known as The Rapunzel Syndrome.
If you've ever fished out a hairball from a plugged shower drain, then you know just how disgusting and smelly they can be. The same can be said for trichobezoars. They are traps for undigested fat and havens for bacteria. That, plus the chronic exposure to gastric juices, makes the matted hairballs turn black and nauseatingly odorous."
... just like The Right Hand of Satan...
posted by Comrade Chicken at
2:00 p.m.
2 Comments:
MATT was the one who coined the "Right Hand of Satan" moniker, but you're right, I'm not without my mean, sometimes.
Hey, thanks for the link! I was slowly going through the "days" and what came out of my mouth was a steady stream of "eww's", until I got to the final shot...
SCREAMED, then laughed, then clapped my hands. I'm sick.
By
Comrade Chicken, at 4:35 p.m.
nice post! i love watching Crime Scene Investigation on TV. but let me get to the more important part of your post—you live in a loft? awesome. so do i!
By
whatever, at 8:22 p.m.
Post a Comment
<< Home