Based on the sails and mast of the Drua, a South Pacific war canoe which was once launched by being rolled over the bodies of ten or more men who had been slain first on deck to coat the vessel in human blood. To make it more seaworthy, you see. A sort of human coin in a fountain, …pulling out an eyelash for luck, etc. Do people do that? Thinking about someone pulling out an eyelash, or imagining someone noticing an eyelash that's fallen out of someone else's eyelid, saying, “oooh wait!” and delicately picking it up with gap-mouthed whimsy before blowing it away after making a wish, or for luck, is making me actively disgusted with humanity. The Drua launching thing, I'm not one to judge. That was in the past.
But I have no doubt the end of eyelash blowing is nowhere in sight.
But today, in a cab, witnessing the unflinching, heavy-lidded boredom of our Indian taxi driver whose side mirror may have knocked a pedestrian's hand off as he sped down the road, was the understatedly dull, flesh-and-bone-thudding highlight of an otherwise unbloody day. Externally unbloody, at any rate.