Begin rant in 5...4....3....2...1
Sometimes you read something that just gets your blood pumping. It fills you with such shock and awe that you stare incredulously into space simply trying to process it. Such was the case this morning when I read in the news that someone had broken into Courtney Loves home and stolen the remaining ashes and lock of hair of Kurt Cobain.
Think about that for a second....think about how it makes you feel.
Now before you start wondering if I'm a Hole or Nirvana fan, let me assure you that is not the issue here. Sure I loved Nevermind, but coming from an early punk background there was never anything truly new that Nirvana did that I hadn't heard 10 years before. I also enjoy Hole, but never listened to a full album till my wife moved in, and probably haven't since.
The point here is that someone stole cremains. Now I know this may seem like a minor crime in the eyes of many, particularly with the atrocities committed in the current global climate, and the lengths man will go to destroy man, but what does it say about us that I have become so inured by the bombardment of suffering we are made to witness on a daily basis that I am appalled by this unconscionable act of emotional torture.
According to the press Courtney has said she does not know what she'll do if she doesn't get them back, "it's like losing him all over again." The cremains and hair were kept in a small plastic bag shaped like a pink teddy bear so she could take them with her when she wanted to feel close to him.
Another thing I find shocking about this incident is the callousness this crime is treated with simply because of the victim. To insinuate that she snorted the ashes, or that the remains are not all she had left considering the settlement of Kurts estate is cold and unnecessary. Forgetting the fact that she is raising Kurts child, consider how you would feel should the remains of a loved one be stolen. Would it matter how much they left you in the will? Of course not. Why can't we afford Courtney Love the same sympathy we would for anyone in her situation?
Who do we feel sympathy for? Every star in Hollywood seems to want to help Britney or Lindsey to stop the trainwrecks that are their over privileged lives. One thing Courtney has never done is lie about who she is. Is that why she deserves less? A drug addict, musician and stripper who never properly recovered from a very public shocking death and forced to become a single mother at the age of 30 is less of a person than a 20 year old princess who has been given every opportunity and still willingly and knowingly destroys herself.
In this entertainer as royalty culture we live in try to remember the last person Courtney Love has been romantically linked to. I looked, I checked it out. Sure there are rumors of everyone from Bruce Willis to Pete Doherty, but they remained rumors. Nothing confirmed. The last person I could find Courtney Love romantically linked to was Kurt Cobain. A rarity in this who's doing who game played so publicly in Hollywood.
Having a reliquary is nothing new. Whether it's a ring, a box or a pink plastic teddy bear, the need to feel close to a lost loved one is very real. My wife made reliquary pendants for all her sisters, each containing the ashes of their mother. If this was ever lost.....I can't even imagine the sadness my wife would feel. I wish I had something left of my mother, but unfortunately was not in a clear enough mind upon her death to think that far ahead.
Before I go off on a tangent, let me just say that I hope the person or persons who perpetrated this obscene crime are found and punished. While it may be impossible to place a monetary value on someones cremains, the thief/thieves also took thousands of dollars in jewelry which should insure they at least face felony charges. Should Kurts ashes show up on Ebay or Craigslist or some other internet listing, I hope there are decent enough people out there who will report it, and not exploit it.
Maybe I'm hoping for too much
1 comment:
well said, my dear. it's absolutely atrocious.
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