Y' know what, that's a dead-ringer for yours...

February 7th – Anybody here remember The Plaster-Casters of Chicago? I’ll bet there’s some who’ll be cringing right now at this reminder of their days of a mis-spent youth… we will return… 

On this day in 1965, when George Harrison had his tonsils removed they destroyed them so that…wait for it…they couldn't be sold on to fans as memorabilia…? From that simple statement bleeds out a whole load of lines of enquiry, all stretching back to the dawn of civilised time.
Winners in duels, so-called holy people, witches, supposed saints, religious leaders…the list goes on. These were the people (the slebs of their day, I guess) whose bodily parts and excretions were sought out by the general public for souvenirs and lucky talismans. Handkerchiefs were the most used method as Joe Public struggled with the masses surrounding an execution of a famous person or the torture site of sinners. Dabbing this cloth in the general bodily fluids that would be a natural extension of the departed’s last loss could either enhance the pocket-book through being sold on the open market as a macabre reminder of the horror just witnessed, or enhance the soul by having a holy connection (and you thought the Pope was the only one with a direct line to God…I believe his ’phone number is VAT69...). 

There are many holy relics gracing many cathedrals and churches around the world; the Holy Shroud of Turin, which has a chapel named after it and where it is kept today is one such we all know of, and likewise the bones of the Venerable Bede (what wouldn't they fetch on the open market) are kept in Durham Cathedral…and the foreskin of Jesus kept in Coulombs Abbey in France…!? (Would've liked to have witnessed the squabble over that one) which reminds me;

When Abraham said to God, "What would you have me give you, Lord?" 
The Lord replied, "I'll have your foreskin, Abraham." 

And Abraham said to God, "What's a foreskin, Lord?" 

And God said to Abraham, "It's that useless piece of skin on the end of your cock." 

And Abraham said, "But, my wife keeps telling me that's the man."

All these relics are kept because they were and are thought to have magical qualities. Bit like the Chinese (who are supposed to have a society far more advanced than anyone else dating from far earlier than anyone else) still believing that rhino horn and tiger bones can cure cancer…bless. Well that’s much like the Plaster-Casters…but they're religion is simpler (see, said we’d return).

Cynthia, the original (and the best?) Plaster Caster (deed poll name change?) has elongated this tradition by taking and preserving rock-relics from the famous – Jimi Hendrix – Noel Redding – Frank Cook – Aynsley Dunbar – Suzi Gardner – Karen O amongst them. She could've taken bodily fluids (don’t get ahead of yourself) but, even on a handkerchief they’ll slowly rot unless kept hermetically sealed, then, I mean, how do you get the magic back out? She could've taken autographs (which in a way she did) but then, everybody’s got them. So, bringing relic hunting and preservation right up to the 20th century, Cynthia took plaster casts of penises and breasts and preserved them for the world. 

If you want the blessing of Hendrix on your guitar playing, you can stroke a plaster cast of his cock; if you want to improve the chances of becoming a top-flight violinist, you can kiss the breasts of Monica BouBou; now if that don’t beat kissing the probably infected, hurriedly removed, definitely diseased toe of a supposed saint that sixty million other folk have kissed then I don’t know what does.