London, Ontario, is a nice little down stuck with the most disappointing suffix in the English atlas. Announcing a trip to London, Ontario, means saying that you’re going to one of the most interesting and historical cities in the world, not really. It’s like saying that your job lets you live like a king, size meal, in that you stay in a cramped overheated box while your fate is decided by people who don’t care for the minimum possible prices.
My errands took me to King’s College. I got out of the taxi, saw a tortured emaciated man hanging from the side of the building, swore “Jesus Christ!” and realized I was right.
There are a couple ways you can go with the famous Christian cross. You can take the symbolic route, reducing it to two crossed lines, a clean and abstract shape which merely represents one of the most brutal methods of execution ever created. Or you can go with the full crucifixion, building a cross and then suspending a detailed carving of a dying figure in full public view. Here they’ve gone for the previously unknown third route: getting rid of any parts which aren’t experiencing excruciating death.
They’re actually counting on the fact that anyone who sees a floating near-naked avatar of pain will associate it with their religion.
The theme is toned down in the classrooms, where bright, professional lecture halls are only fitted with a standard wooden voudou-style fetishes of the publicly killed on the wall. Anyone teaching there is advised to arrive early so that they can hide the creepy capital punishment doll behind a lectern before any students see it.