PERTURBED IN URUGUAY !

First Message
Posted: Sat Jan 01, 2005 1:04 pm    Post subject: Perturbed in Uruguay

Hello to you all. I've never posted to this group before -- indeed, I've only just stumbled across it, searching for some information that could possibly shed light on what I witnessed today. I hope you don't mind me butting in, but you seem to be the kind of people who might understand my perturbance. Vida certainly doesn't.

My name is Kent Lawson. I am a Doctor of Biology and a botanist, currently associated with a university which you will understand my not naming, the research which has brought me to my present location being commercially sensitive. I will tell you, however, that location is a shanty town in the Pantanal do Rio Negro, an area of western Uruguay that for half the year is fertile plains, and for the other a series of swamps, marshes and shallow lakes. I tell you this because of all the wretched places you have never heard of, this is surely the last you otherwise would.

Myself and my co-worker, Dr Vida Marajó, arrived some weeks ago, at the height of the flooding. I am writing this on my wireless laptop in the shambolic excuse for a residence we have been alotted on this temporary island; the roof and walls shield us from neither the rain, insects nor the scrutiny of the locals, who grow cash crops and graze cattle the other half of the year but at present have not much to amuse them. This and their isolation is doubtless what has shaped their celebrations so peculiarly.

We emerged from our hut this morning to find the village had gained a population of spectral figures; strangely coloured and textured, looming through the mist. All represented human beings, but were formed, in some cases with exquisite attention to detail, from the local plants. That is, this season's growth, the marsh lilies and water weed. The overall effect, together with a strong scent of the marshes, was utterly repellent. You may find this hard to understand. You may be thinking of floral clocks, or the Virgin Mary adorned with roses. The plants of the Rio Negro are pale, for the most part, and to see those orchid lips and tongues, those bulbous genitals, the drooping, rootlet hands... I would provide a photo except Vida has reserved them for a paper she intends to write.

Vida is the linguist, and elicited from the village priest that these figures represent the dead of the past year. They create (she said, "bring out") the figures as the New Year approaches, taking great care to keep them wrapped. Then on New Years Eve they are placed around the village, to join the festivities one last time. Then they are hurled into a bonfire. If this is not done, the dead will remain in Purgatory -- these people are nominally Catholic. The fumigation is followed by a feast. I can hear their celebration now, the piping and sawing of strings, interspersed with strange, ululating cries. Vida is out there, but not even the revelation of the bottle of scotch she'd packed could induce me to join her. Those blank, soft faces - when we returned to our hut this evening, one of the repulsive things had been placed in the doorway. It was very small -- Vida said something about a child who had drowned -- a bundle of rushes supporting its breadfruit head. It was riddled with fungus, as I suspect they all are, held together by growths and strings. I kicked it aside, which was perhaps not well done, but I hope I have conveyed something of the unbearable quality they held for me. Two village women came out and bundled the child-figure up in plantain leaves; even they seemed unwilling to touch it.

I can't believe I accepted this assignment; not that I had much choice given I'm coming up for tenure, but the fact is that I'm stuck here, damp and itching and listening to that noise, all for someone's idea of a new luxury crop! I've said enough: I wish you all good night. Please wish me pleasant dreams.

Kent Lawson

Second Message
Posted: Sat Jan 01, 2005 2:04 pm    Post subject: Perturbed in Uruguay

I'm writing again, I - I don't know what else to do. I must tell you, so that you at least will know if something, if we can't - Vida is here, but there is no doctor. And it's growing so fast. She says we mustn't alert the villagers, the bonfire is still smouldering and they - they would - I can't believe this!

But here is the proof.

[The utter vileness of this photo defies digital reproduction. For anyone with a strong stomach, the original is on our bulletin board: see Your messages> Vile Alerts >Perturbed in Uruguay]

Examining my shoe - but that was the first symptom, really, where I first saw, protruding - there is a hole in the toe. I didn't notice, my feet were always wet. Tramping through swamps - if I get out of here, I'm going to KILL Powell, him and his mythical vile truffle, so delicious that the Olmec kings would pay its weight in turquoise!

Vida has prepared a fire and the collecting knives. She's offering me the last of the scotch

Kent Lawson

Third Message
Posted: Sat Jan 01, 2005 2:58 pm    Post subject: Perturbed in Uruguay

How astounding. Unprecedented. Unparalled flavour. How - very ironic. Of course, it has to be roasted.

Feeling very strange. I think - ingesting might create a latent infection. Why their corpses turn. I touched the raw fungus... oh god, the aroma. Need to cut a little more...

Vida has taken the boat. Silly woman, I'll stop soon. Have to make sure the infection is removed. And roasted.

It's in my hand now. I see the glistening, the deliquesence beginning. Oh, delicious. Just a li

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Report from Stravignano v Report from St. Benedict's
v Report on Rasterizing v Canberra:The Appalling Truth v The Thing in the Sewer v Perturbed in Uruguay v Viola v Vibrators