Article: 288862 of talk.bizarre
From: plord@best.com (a hurricane triggered by a butterfly's wings)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: bodyart
Date: 4 Dec 1996 15:04:39 -0800
Organization: the breaking of small, important bones
Lines: 54
Message-ID: <585027$a61@shellx.best.com>


I was born with a glass jaw.

While some might view this anomaly as a sign of frailty (for so
goes the metaphor), I found instead that it burdened me with an
unfortunate social stigma: gums are not particularly appealing
to look at, even glass ones with crystalline cuspidors, and
furthermore *nobody* wants to be quite so precisely aware of a
person's salivatory activity (one would be tempted to use the
phrase "conspicuous consumption," but on reflection, the pun
would be better served in a passing reference to Keats.  But I
digress).  At any rate, once it became clear that people were
going to stare at but not actually converse with me, I decided
to forego my own communicative powers in favor of a series of
artistic statements.

My initial, merely cosmetic attempts were somewhat unsatisfying. 
It was easy enough to disgust people with a mouthful of plastic
Archie McPhee bugs, or to invoke the spectre of Bond villains
past with aluminum foil, but the amusement was short-lived.  I
do recall making an impressive entrance to my High School Prom
with a mouthful of tropical fish, but I was arrested by the
Recursion Police a few months later for being seen in public
with a mouthful of brooding cichlids.  Everyone's a critic.

In college, I directed my research towards specialized mutations
and physiological adaptations, publishing several papers which
eventually resulted in the first-ever ophthalmandibular
transplant.  The tabloids had a field day with me at that point,
noting, for example, that I could now stare directly into
someone's eyes while simultaneously peering down the front of
their shirt, but honestly, I just wanted to have a new
perspective on the world.  You'd be amazed how much more you
notice about your surroundings when you don't have to constantly
look down at curbs, or navigate your way through a city without
worrying about accidentally treading in dogshit.

This latest project thrills me to no end, really.  I've gotten
my truncated and worked up a series of tongue exercises that
allow me to position the eyeball under my tongue, near the back
of my mouth.  Then I'll fill my gums with marbles, translucent
crystals, and a little bit of carefully placed mylar, and if my
brain can handle it, I'll get a kaleidoscopic alpha channel on
all my visual input.  If I ever finish this brain-to-NTSC
converter, you'll see.

Yeah.  

You'll see.

paul