The Dark Angels are a come and go crew. They create then disappear like street art. Their works exist in fragments, particles that float, dust motes that spin before the wind that blows them to faraway places. They are individuals that work as one. Deep as oceans, as impenetrable as the night. Art urchins and poets, they dissolve before they form. They are the Dark Angels, they are discharge. They are a bloody mouthful.

Friday, 17 June 2011

Identificazione/autopsia di una donna - low resolution pixel autopsy

This is what I asked a virtureal psychiatrist friend recently:
"if you studied medicine the whole shit like a real doc psychiatrist and not just like some funny psychotherapist
then please tell me how it was to cut a human skull in two with a saw, taking the brain out cutting it into slices with a kitchen knive to analyze it like a "scientific" object or to stir into a pile of entrails after the famous Y-cut...
my father, an ordinary worker, worked in a hospital and saw it often, no big deal DEATH, although he's sensible, not even the smell is very bad... what about the smell? is it really not so strong?
are artists the only people getting a scent of death or are they just stupid ridiculous idiots? cuz "normal" people and doctors seems to find no big issue in it, the experience...
me for my part i will use some found footage of this in the video I am preparing now, youtube broadcast yourself... is that the way it is explained to the students what human physis is?:

No comments: