I was sad to hear of the death of Marcel Marseau today, the French mime artist who managed to make a career out of the most pointless branch of art this side of juggling. Fair play to the lad, he became world famous for it (beating off competition from the thousands of other mime artists around the world that we know and love) and somehow managed to keep paying the bills using the same old act for the hundred odd years he was doing it. Hat doffage there.
Of course, me being me, I can't get the thought of his funeral out of my head. Aside from it being a quiet affair (arf), I'm can imagine it's going to be held in a massive glass box which you must feel your way around to locate your seat. Apparently there is a ladder leading to the door, although it's quite breezy outside so you may have to lean into the wind to make any headway. Anybody who brings a briefcase which gets stuck in midair is to leave it by the door, and there will be a slap-up banquet of bananas at the wake. Sounds like a hoot.
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