North to Alaska

Rest In Peace!

The composer Mozart died in 1791 and was buried in a mass grave in the Austrian village of St. Marx just outside Vienna. He was buried without a coffin since the Emperor Joseph II had banned coffins. No marker was placed at his burial site. However, Joseph Rothmayer, the gravedigger claimed to know exactly where the body was laid to rest. Rothmayer decided Mozart’s skull would be an appropriate reminder of the composer and retrieved it or at least a skull from a grave at St. Marx. Eventually, said skull was placed in the Mozarteum.
Nostradamus, the French physician turned seer, died in 1566. Although there is considerable controversy about the meaning of his quatrains, there is no doubt that tens of thousands of his supporters have used his verses to predict almost every thing of significance that has happened since his death—and lots of not so significant things as well. Because the interpretation of his predictions covers such a wide spectrum, some are even possibly correct. Remember the old adage about a room full of monkeys. Sit them down with a group of computers and they will eventually produce the complete works of Shakespeare—along with megatons of complete gibberish on printouts. Now that statement assumes that there are enough trees in the world to produce an adequate supply of paper for the monkeys. It also assumes that there is enough available landfill available to accommodate that waste paper. OK. This is the 21st century. We are going to recycle all that waste paper. Yeah!
Well, back to Nostradamus. He was buried in the Church of the Cordeliers in the French City of Salon. In 1700, church officials decided to move his body to a more prominent part of the church. Rumors had persisted for over a century that the key to deciphering the meaning of his rhymed quatrains was buried with him. The officials also were aware of a prediction associated with Nostradamus that harm would come to anyone who opened his tomb. Now, church officials being church officials, they decided that they would be immune from any such catastrophe. So they could not help themselves and took a peek inside. Supposedly, all they saw was a medallion about the skeleton with the date 1700. Talk about scary. I’m sure all of them got their houses in order mucho pronto and said their prayers with a renewed fervency every night for at least a month. Then in 1791, a group of drunken soldiers broke into the tomb again and drank wine from the skull. Apparently they believed that this would convey psychic powers upon themselves. According to a legend that quickly popped up, all the drunken soldiers were soon dispatched to the great beyond. Of course, that was true for a whole host of soldiers who had nothing to do with the desecration of his tomb.
Now for all of you looking for some connection between Mozart and Nostradamus, there might not be one. But both skulls were removed from their burial sites and Mozart died in 1791 the same year that the soldiers looted the tomb of Nostradamus. It all sounds a lot like the curse of King Tut’s Tomb.
Now it is not just the legends of the past that can’t get any respect when they die. If you grew up like I did, then you know that when you meet a funeral procession you are supposed to pull over to the side of the road and let it pass. Well in Dublin, Ireland a hearse was caught speeding down the highway at an excessive speed with the mourners in hot pursuit. Instead of showing proper respect for the dearly departed, the cops pulled the hearse over and gave him a ticket for speeding. Gads! What is the world coming to?
Well, in New Zealand, used hearses are becoming a hot commodity in the automobile trade. It is not that hordes of amateur funeral directors are trying to pick up a few bucks on the side. In fact, most of the hearses are not hearses at all, but ordinary cars. The owners list them as hearses to save about $77 on taxes. The vehicles must be listed as “non-commercial hearses” used to carry dead animals—not human corpses—just dead animals. A woman defended her registration by explaining that she did routinely transport dead animals in her car—frozen chickens that went right into her freezer.
Meanwhile, back in the states, a bank robber trotted into the Trustmark Bank back in June. But this was not just an ordinary bank robber. The culprit was wrapped in bandages like a mummy from head to foot. The crook calmly collected the loot and fled. A SWAT team was assembled at the apartment where the suspect was believed to be. Apparently the local police had seen too many of those curse-of-the-mummy movies. It is always better not to take any chances. And the robber? Could it be possible that he never heard of King Tut’s curse? The dead just can’t get any respect any more. May they rest in peace!