Thursday, October 10, 2013

Pretty Thug Souls

Random internet rambling has put it me in touch with a gallery of Russian mafia tombstones.

Judging by their reception in the comment section, most regard them as classless, gaudy memorials to thuggery.

"I'm dead set against cemetery vandalism, but I'm willing to make an exception in these cases."

Said one, Richard Kent, and received four Facebook likes for his proclamation (which he would doubtlessly hesitate to express if he was in the company of the mourning party for one of the tombstone's heroes).

I, on the other hand, always committed to aesthetics over moral standards, have no objections to them.

Yes they are ridiculous. But they succeeded where much of the funeral industry fails miserably.

These gravestones give a real sense of the person whose decomposed bodies rests beneath the edifice. They keep them alive and give a complete stranger an insight into the character who would otherwise be ravaged by nonexistence.

These gravestones defy death. Their souls live in the image, suspended in perpetual purgatory between a Russian church and a shiny Mercedes.

You could come to that gravestone in the middle of a cold Russian winter night and feel the boozy breath of its protagonist.



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