(from Cambridge International Dictionary of English)

http://uk.cambridge.org

embalm verb [T]  to use chemicals to prevent (a dead body) from decaying We embalm something that decays in order to prevent further natural decomposition. Decay occurs as cells become dilapidated due to disrepair or are seized upon by unchecked opportunists ( passive and active forces of degradation ). Modern embalming involves decay suppression through a liquid replacement, while other methods, such as active mummification involves the intended slow removal of the water (dehydration) just as a body may be mummified through an accidental or  passive process, such as occasionally occurs in attics. The chemical processes found in the preservation of peat-bog victims, though largely unexplored, appear to be passive replacement processes.

Some spiders will wrap a body well before  causing "decay" in its victims corpse [http://www.rochedalss.qld.edu.au/spider/spider13.htm],  preventing a loss of material through packaging that resembles a less porous version of mummy-wrap. Though decay is being forced, the sum of the contained material has not changed: this means that decay must be more precisely defined in order for embalming to retain its discrete definition (a living body differs little from the spiders prey when it comes to "change", however less functional-for-its-designed-purpose a liquefied being may be!). Deep down, aren't we all just otherwise-irrelevant but chaotic McCain's Drinking Boxes from the perspective of a mosquito?

Thus, for now, let's generalize that to "embalm" is to augment, subtract or replace (chemical) material in a decay-friendly ( changeable; time affected ) but no longer functioning-as-intended object, in order to make it  inert (unchangeable;  time unaffected) or changed into a new function by steering the course of its destiny (time re-affected). 

The chemical processes of embalming prevent change - thus the gradual decay of energetic states that would otherwise cause degradable matter to collapse into de-energized goo. Since embalming, at its roots, involves preservation through toying with energetic states, it only seems fair that we extend the definition of embalming to include the addition and subtraction of heat and light, as well.

We subtract heat to preserve that roast, which, while frozen is inedible. We add heat to make that soybean jerky or render ones remains to ashes. We subtract light from potatoes to preserve their  scallopability, as even the slightest amount of light may cue the birth of a sprout, destroying their state of preservation. Whether we give just a surface sterilization to a package of  nutri-grain bars with  U.V. light, or a deeply penetrating bombardment to a crate of lettuce with gamma rays, we are adding waves of energy to the wee-beasties inside, causing their demise, resulting in a much greater shelf life for the remaining, desired material. In much the same way, however, energy may act as an anti-preservative - a property we see clearly in the role of  U.V. radiation in skin cancer or oxidants in other forms of cancer (in both cases, a  change to the DNA is made, causing new, unruly life). Adding energy, or being exposed to unstable chemicals (free radicals) can have a precisely inverse effect to subtracting energy or exposure to stable chemicals. 

But is embalming a one-way ticket from life to eternity? That is, when we embalm, is it necessary that the moribund walk no more? I would think not, as, for example, the Egyptians felt this period was simply transitional. If we were to map this out in the Language of Metaphors, we would need to find a "nothing", "something" and "everything" of time measures. "No preservation" would be to fall into an instant state of decay, such as we would find if we were *eaten whole. "Temporary preservation" would be, say, the embalming needed to get through a funeral. "Permanent preservation" would be just that - eternal - and though likely impossible, is best matched through processes such as the invented process of plastination or the natural process of mineral replacement found in petrification. 

An engine, while "living", is filled with the fuel, air, fire, products of combustion and lubricants that are its lifeblood. But Shakespeare pointed out that sleep equals death: death is not permanent, only that it is a period without motion. We often say that it is "dead" at a given nightspot, but use this metaphor fully cognizant that this is an impermanent state "it might liven up again, later on..."

That engine that we put on ice for the winter is embalmed with a chemically and energetically stable material - oil. Once again, we see the important role that water - the closest thing to a universal solvent - plays in causing decay "be sure the inside of the engine is dry", a mechanic may warn, "and don't let the air get to it either". Left to their own devices, air and water will make living things out of the most unlikely of candidate materials.

And the sun? It too can be guilty of creating unwanted zombies. We may embalm the mayo within our egg salad sandwich - by removing heat and keeping it removed. Leave this sandwich in the sun, however, and the life within becomes resurrected: shadow is a preservative - an anti-zombification agent. 

Jail. The cooler. The punishment for improper living is the containment in a three dimensional space for a period of time. This alone would suffice for many, but if an inmate acts up, they are tossed into a tiny cell known as "the hole"  to cool off. It comes as no surprise then, that holes are effective places for trapping energy - whether mouths or ears, satellite dishes or black holes. If a prisoner focuses their energy in one direction, they may be able to break out, escaping recapture and further confinement. On the other hand, good behaviour - not stirring up trouble - results in early release, cutting down greatly time on ice  in the cooler.

We place a heart in a brine, then on ice, to preserve it during shipping (change of location and time) to a transplant recipient. It was dead, kept from decay or change for a time with chemistry and temperature, then brought back to life in a new form - consumed whole by a new ribcage. Is it not being embalmed? The definition of "embalm" is now besmudged. And clear. Maybe embalming needs only stall for time.

That appears to be what the pharaohs thought. So do we - it's called pickling now. And though the unwanted decay may be prevented while in the jar, no question those pickled beets will meet their maker in our digestive tracks. A freeze-frame in the film of life, pickling allows for time travel to the distant future, where life picks up where it left off. Cryogenics would seem a science of pickling too - with lessons learned from creatures that embalm themselves using highly specialized molecules.

Perhaps it can be said that embalming prevents life from continuing for at least a while after something dies - that embalming ensures a complete death (however permanent or temporary), preventing that which is best left sleeping from an untimely  rude reawakening. Perhaps, as well, it may be extended that since life is merely chemical or energetic at these levels, the only difference between, say, embalming and petrification, is one of causal perspective: intent versus accident, or, equally,  invention versus nature.

 

(To be continued, and attached to "What is Taxidermy")

* "Eaten whole" offers an interesting digression: a portion of a creature eaten whole will become absorbed by the diner - such that a sort of inside-out embalming occurs, where that which is preserved is taken out! This is recognized in many belief systems that see digestion as an absorption of the soul of the food, usually as an animal. Human cannibals, especially as characterized in Hollywood, would eat the brain or heart of their prey, absorbing the spiritual power of the victim; black widow spiders are cannibals, clearing the table of both the husband and husbands' potential for a second set of progeny in one sitting (talk about planned parenthood...!). It seems that embalming can mean a preservation relative to the deceased and a progression relative to the heirs. 

Dowager.

This "preservation of body - progression of spirit"  motif is not so unfamiliar to us at all. Whether so forward as to demand "avenge my death" or as under the radar as a "will", a survivor becomes the new vessel of the soul of the deceased, carrying instructions, dreams or legacy into the distant future. This spiritual daisy-chain gathers a sense of momentum through such devices as junior/senior or "So-and-So the Second", etc. It could be stated as the domino effect of genealogy, royalty or political leadership, where a fallen predecessor passes power to the next - and where power is cumulative, power is also accelerative. The rise and fall of the Roman Empire becomes a tale of thermodynamics - disorder increasing over time until the system goes chaotic; the Gold Rush putting a fire under the slow development of the Yukon - sparking, expanding and collapsing as the economic fuel is spent.

The conservation of energy. The accumulation and acceleration of mass through gravity. Entropic decay.

Time energy mass