NEW YORK (Rock online magazine) - It all started a couple weeks ago when a band promised a live, onstage suicide during one of their upcoming concerts.
Hell On Earth, a St. Petersburg, Fla.-based industrial band, began emailing press releases to major news organizations across the country. Bandleader Billy Tourtelot, 33, a son of a prominent real estate agent in the city, said in a press release that a terminally ill member of the "Euthanasia Society" requested permission to commit suicide during the band's show on Oct. 4.
As of Saturday night, the identity of the would-be suicide was still undisclosed.
The Associated Press got wind of the story and the rest is history. The media swarmed and officials panicked. The State Theatre in St. Petersburg was the venue set to host the event. They banned the performance after learning of what was to transpire.
"Billy has done some crazy things," the venue's manager, Dave Hundley, told the St. Petersburg Times. "I really can't put anything past him, but obviously, no, I can't allow a suicide on my stage."
In true Marilyn Manson-esque form, the shock-rock group is rumored to have stuffed live rats into a blender, sodomized skinned calves and a multitude of other macabre stunts. Before you go calling P.E.T.A., though, keep in mind that these rumored shenanigans are nothing new. Bands have supposedly been pulling this stuff off for years, but for some reason, no one ever sees it with their own two eyes.
After the event was banned, Tourtelot told fans and those interested to log on to their Web site at www.hellonearth.net to witness the show via streaming video. Tourtelot continued to say that the event would take place at an anonymous location with only friends and family present.
Despite an emergency meeting by city council members outlawing suicide for entertainment purposes, along with heavy threats of prosecution from law enforcement officials for assisting a suicide (a state law punishable by up to 15 years in prison), Tourtelot was resolute in his decision.
"This is about standing up for what you believe in, and I am a strong supporter of physician-assisted suicide," he said on the band's Web page last week.
I spent three days before the show trying to track down Tourtelot for an interview. I even resorted to calling his father's real estate agency. It turns out that Tourtelot has been unavailable not only to reporters, but to city officials as well. A city attorney has been trying to serve a notice to Tourtelot to appear in court, where Circuit Judge John C. Lenderman is scheduled to rule on whether Hell on Earth can carry out the suicide show.
As I write this, it's 8:30 p.m. on Saturday night, and I've opted out of the usual weekend revelry in order to watch someone die. Instead, I've gotten an error message for the past four hours. I can only speculate that Web traffic was too high for the band's site to maintain, or the hosting company revoked the band's access to the page for fear of a lawsuit.
I know what you're thinking. It's a publicity stunt. If it does turn out to be the biggest hoax of the year-well, then it's a publicity stunt that would've made P.T. Barnum proud and Tourtelot deserves my $10 for his CD just for having balls of steel.
And what if it's not a hoax? Then you might think it's monstrous and sick. I was tempted to think the same at first. But after some research and contemplation, I'm convinced it's one of the more poignant and beautiful things I've ever heard of.
Although I've never delved too deeply into the politics of assisted suicide, I've fundamentally believed that-given certain circumstances-it should be accepted.
What it would be like: a life of physical and psychological agony, knowing you're going to die soon? There are plenty of diseases out there that can tear someone apart before they finally kill him or her. I've seen it first-hand. There's no reason one should-against their will, that is-be forced to endure pain like that unless they wish to.
Perhaps this person (whether he or she exists at all) belongs to the underground subculture that Hell On Earth draws their audience from. Perhaps this person's friends, even family, are interconnected to this scene. Maybe he or she has been touched by the band's music in one way or another, and wants to symbolize his or her death for suicide rights.
Whatever the reason, it's that person's choice. Not the city council's, not the police, not the government-not even their friends and family's and especially not yours.
When I try to imagine being forced to die in a disgustingly sanitized and impersonal hospital room, it scares me. Maybe more than dying itself. If I ever had to choose the circumstances of my death, it would most likely be something very similar to this. I'd want my friends and family to be there and I'd want my environment to be something I had control of.
By this time, you're probably ready to explode with religious doctrine. You'd probably tell me that it's God's choice as to when and where each person dies, not even their own.
That may be, but a God that would insist I suffer-that would keep me from dying with dignity and in a fashion that allowed me to leave this Earth with a smile on my face-is a God that I'd rather not meet anyway.
