The Flame of the Millennium
28 November 2006
by Timbre' Wolf, Contributing writer for AnaiRhoads.org
AnaiRhoads.org - "The Flame of the Millennium" is a seven-ton, stainless-steel, abstract statue (a flame in high wind) standing over the Kennedy Expressway, just west of the downtown Loop in Chicago. On Friday, November 3, 2006 those driving in rush hour traffic were witness to a most peculiar event. 911 calls to police indicated that the statue was on fire. I will give you more details about that in moment.
I now turn your attention to Malachi Ritscher. Mr. Ritscher is well-liked, and highly thought of, in both the "free jazz" and experimental music scene in Chicago. He has produced and engineered audio recordings, as well as photographing, over two thousand musical performances. His photographs, which can be viewed online, are artistic and capable. Some fifty of his recordings have been commercially released, or released by the bands themselves, and have garnered some acclaim for their natural sound. Malachi's favorite microphone is the AKG C 414 whose appellation he has specially imprinted on his car's tag. Ritscher often gives the recordings to the bands who couldn't afford to compensate him for his audio skills or for the real value of the recordings.
Early in his adulthood Malachi, then known as Mark David Ritscher, was a Journeyman High-Voltage Technician with the electric company in Lincoln, Nebraska. In 1987 he became a Licensed Stationary Engineer. During that time he was also a member of the unions IBEW, IUOE, and SEIU. He writes that he, "was proud to be a dues-paying proletariat intellectual."
Ritscher is also an ordained minister who has performed a number of weddings and has a funeral coming up.
Malachi is also an activist who is strongly against the war. From his dossier:
I was arrested at a protest on March 20, 2003 and spent the night in jail, then became a member of the pending class-action suit against the City of Chicago. Arrested again two years later, I successfully sued the City of Chicago for false arrest on 1st Amendment/free speech grounds.
Malachi also poses a poignant question on one of his several websites:
Even with breathing exercises and a positive mental attitude, it's getting hard to keep pretending that I don't have blood on my hands.
How many unnecessary deaths have my tax dollars paid for? I keep trying not to think about it. There are electronic gadgets to distract me, and yoga to repress the simmering anger, and sports, and movies, and snacks, and music, and shopping, and so much entertainment that I couldn't watch it all with a thousand eyes!
But here is the big question, the one that really matters:
WHAT ABOUT YOU - WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?
On November third, of this year, things caught up with Malachi. The confluence of socially sanctioned isolation, familial alienation, the thoughtful entertainment of suicidal notions, political consternation, and the ultimate act of protest have claimed the life of Malachi Ritscher. The culmination of two decades (or more) of existential enlightenment resulted in Mr. Ritscher's self immolation - the excruciating sacrificial act of setting one's self on fire.
The "The Flame of the Millennium" is not a statue in Chicago at all. It is Malachi Ritscher on fire...and this is what rush hour drivers saw on fire by the loop. His body was charred beyond recognition by the time police arrived. They could not even determing the gender. A poster reading "Thou Shall Not Kill," a video camera, and an empty can of gasoline were present on the scene.
This was not the act of a madman, although many will see it that way. I propose that it differs only slightly, but in an important way, from suicide bombing. A suicide bomber sees himself as sacrificing his life for the greater good of his people by "taking out the enemy" in the process. Albeit those of us with a Western mind see this as a grotesque delusion. Malachi's act takes on a more non-violent aspect, although either body - that of a suicide bomber or that of Malachi, is certain to see either act as horrendously violent.
Malachi Ritscher showed the world just how important it was, to him, for them to hear him scream, "STOP THIS WAR!"
Percussionist Michael Zerang may have said it best: "A lot of us feel like he sort of took a karmic hit for us. Because so many of us were upset with the way these wars are happening and people are dying-- we do what we ca in our own ways, but truly there's a lot of frustration about that. And the he did this and it's almost like he took the hit for us."
And in Malachi's own words: "If one death can atone for anything, in any small way, to say to the world: I apologize for what we have done to you, I am ashamed for the mayhem and turmoil caused by my country."
And finally a few entries from Malachi Ritscher's self penned obituary:
As a child, he was intensely afraid of many things, especially heights; he spent the rest of his life trying to face his fears, without ever coming to terms with his fear of people.
One of his proudest achievements was an ultra-searing hot sauce recipe, which he registered under the name 'Undead Sauce - re-animate yourself!' It was a blend of tropical peppers, which he grew indoors in 5-gallon buckets, and a few secret ingredients that gave it a unique flavor (pomegranate, pistachio, and cinnamon).
After getting divorced, he relocated to Chicago to work with friends in an art-rock band, which inevitably led to forming a trio called 'wantnot', recording and releasing a CD in 1990, with Malachi on bass and vocals, Mike Mansfield on guitar, and Janna Brooks on drums. The cover design received an award from the American Center for Design, which didn't increase sales. He also designed skateboard decks, flyers, and t-shirts, with similar commercial results.
He had memorized Pi to the 1101 decimal place, and would recite it at will. He could shave with a straight razor. He loved cinnamon rolls. He loved the smell of turpentine. He also loved motorcycles, which he wisely avoided.
In the words of Stephen Wright, he was a 'peripheral visionary'. His sense of humor was droll - he theorized that surprise and not tragedy was the most important element of comedy. His favorite joke was to walk into a room, sniff the air, and observe "it smells like snot in here". His favorite word was 'ominous'. His favorite two words were 'Tahitian hiatus'. He always carried his passport with him.
The metaphor for his life was winning the lottery, but losing the ticket. In the end, the loneliness was overwhelming. He was deeply appreciative for everything that had been given to him, but acutely aware that the greater the present, the higher the price.
He was a member of Mensa, and Alcoholics Anonymous since 1990. For him, sobriety was virtually getting a second chance at life. He practiced a personal and private spirituality, seeking to connect across the illusion that separates us from each other. Reportedly, his last words were "rosebud... oops".
c 2006 Timbre' Wolf
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