that's not being a fan, that's having a fetish

Just got this email: 

Dear Ms ____ 

A piece of lined paper with a red margin to the left. A pen. A pot of ink. These were my tools, but now I must become accustomed to new ones.

Even the simple act of writing has undergone a transformation while I have been sitting here in my box in the South Cloisters. Now I must depress these cumbersome keys on a machine – depressing, indeed.

At least this new electronic method of communication has speed on its side. For you have sent me good news – excellent news – and I wish you to have a response by return.

I am delighted to hear you would like to receive the reproduction of my head that is now in the process of manufacture. It means a great deal to me that I am not forgotten, nor is your time here at UCL.

My intention is that the head will fit into an envelope and arrive at your door in the form of a flattened paper globe. To you will I leave the task of gently manipulating it into a three dimensional representation of my head.

To you, also, will I leave the task of putting me on display in a suitable place. You will remember that I like a location where I can enjoy regular visits from passers-by. If you have no position like the South Cloisters in your home or workplace, simply being your companion on a desk, plinth or shelf will suffice. To make matters a little simpler, I have insisted my head is this time not life – or death – size, but something more easily accommodated.

I am sure you will want to know when to expect your head. I understand the modern world proceeds at pace, but for me here in my box, time takes on a different hue. If I say your head will be with you soon, this is in my terms. I do not mean seconds, minutes, hours or days, but weeks.

I can only hope that the wait is worthwhile. For you will be among the first to receive this special reminder of your time at UCL.

It would be remiss of me not to thank you once more for your interest in my head. It is gratifying to know that the questions I sought to ask in life, as well as death, continue to be pertinent to modern thinkers such as you.

Should you wish to engage in further communication with my estimated friends here at UCL, please do so by replying or using the telephone which is only an advanced version of the conversation tube I devised. From me, for now, farewell; for my hands grow weary and it is time for me to rest once more.

Your obedient servant,

Jeremy Bentham (1748-1832)
UCL icon and auto-icon