it's no wonder Scotland's cancellation of mummies has been ridiculed around the world

KEVIN MCKENNA Kelvingrove Museum and Art Galleries Education Heritage History No wonder mummy cancellation at Kelvingrove has been mocked   Kelvingrove Museum and Art Galleries Education Heritage History 2 Skip to next photo 1/1 Show caption 1/1 This article is brought to you , and has been written . It does not necessarily reflect the view of The Herald. Who knew that bosses at Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum bosses could commune with the dead? Perhaps they’ve discovered an AI tool that can retro-read the intentions of people who lived thousands of years ago. Maybe, they’ve got a couple of cosmic guides who can surf that astral plane backwards and forwards at the drop of a hat. Last week, visitors to the Museum expecting to Egyptian mummies were instead greeted with an empty coffin (I’m presuming it was empty). On this rather sinister casket was the following statement: “We have removed human remains from this display as a mark of respect.” Among the delinquent limbs and appendages were a right hand that once belonged to a priest called Nekht and a male head and right foot of unspecified origin. Responding to reasonable concerns that ‘respect’ in this case was a ship that had sailed a very long time ago, the museum dug something of a hole for themselves large enough to accommodate several old Egyptian sarcophagi from that Valley of the Kings, (occasionally reputed to have inspired the naming of High Valleyfield in West Fife). They explained that their Human Remains Policy dictates that mummified bodies will only be displayed if there is “documented and informed consent” from the deceased individual. And that in appropriate circumstances, their descendants can also lend approval. We’ll leave aside the fact that some of those mummies - dead though they may be - still look more animated than Celtic’s midfield. Last week, I wrote a rather jocund column poking fun at the SNP’s attempts to dismiss those PISA pupil assessment tables that consistently place Scotland’s attainment levels in key subjects below England’s. Somewhat facetiously, I’d suggested that we shouldn’t place too much emphasis on the teaching of history and all the great popular societal and geo-political convulsions that had brought us to this place. I didn’t imagine that this was actually becoming policy at Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum. SCOTLAND is fast becoming the land where what we once deemed to be satire is becoming lived experience.