The Reef Of Death
Some times the world conspires to just piss me off. Case in point was this past Sunday's noisepaper which had an article about man-made reefs which are either made to contain or made from the ashes of the cremated. The funerary industry wants to call these "cremains" but it strikes me as a grotesque portmanteau word and I refuse to use it save in an explanatory aside. On the other hand, I have no problem with the reefs themselves - in fact, I rather like the idea that one can elect to have his ashed incorporated into a cement ball which will be sunk and on which life will thrive. Or have ones ashes put into a niche in a reef created for the purpose. I could even see my scuba-diving friend the Enigmatic Misanthrope opting for such a method of ... can't really call it "interment" can I. Inaquament. No. That's worse.
Which is beside the point of what's frying my shorts about the article. Let me reproduce the offense which is a picture caption: "Neptune Memorial Reef, off the coast of Miami, is a place where ocean-lovers can be buried. Owned by the Neptune Society, it covers 16 acres and is a replica of the lost city of Atlantis."
(all caps bold italics) Whiskey Tango Foxtrot!(/all caps bold italics) A "replica" of WHAT! Given that Atlantis is a fiction and a fever dream of the easily gulled, no one can replicate that which never existed. Oh fer far-flung moronicism.