For thousands of years, an Egyptian priest named Nekht has had one job: lie there and be ancient. This week a museum in Glasgow decided even that was too much to ask without a signed permission slip.
Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum pulled its mummies off display because, according to Glasgow Life, the charity that runs the place, there is no "documented and informed consent" from the deceased. Out went Nekht's coffin and remains, a mummified right hand recovered from the Valley of the Kings, and a mummified male head and right foot. In their place, visitors found a sign: "We have removed human remains from this display as a mark of respect." The Telegraph, STV News and the Daily Record all confirmed it, so no, this isn't a Demorat bit. We wish it were. We'd have charged admission.
Tunnel Tucker has lived in the sewer a long time and has seen things. But never has he seen a museum ask a foot for consent. Who's handling the paperwork? Does the hand sign for the foot? Does the head get power of attorney? Somewhere in Glasgow a junior curator is holding a clipboard next to a sarcophagus, whispering, "Blink twice if you're comfortable being seen by a field trip."
Glasgow Life says it's following "contemporary museum practice," pointing to the International Council of Museums' revised Code of Ethics from June 2026, which says museums should "uphold the inherent dignity of human remains." It also cited a 2025 report from a UK parliamentary group on reparations about the "potential wishes of the ancestors." Potential wishes. Of a man who died before the invention of the wheelbarrow. Tucker would like to point out that the ancient Egyptians built giant stone monuments with their names carved on them in letters taller than a double-decker bus. These are not people who were hoping for privacy.
And the museum isn't stopping. Its draft Human Remains Policy says remains should only be displayed with consent from the deceased or, "in appropriate circumstances," their descendants. Good luck tracking down Nekht's next of kin. Ancestry.com is going to need a much bigger server. More removals are underway at Kelvingrove's History Discovery Centre and its Scotland's Early People gallery, and the St Mungo Museum is pulling its coffin and mummified remains too.
Imagine the consent form. "Do you, Nekht, priest of ancient Egypt, agree to be viewed by sticky-fingered nine-year-olds and a bloke from Paisley eating a meal deal? Check yes or no. Please use a reed pen." Nekht was unavailable for comment, having been unavailable for comment since before the Romans showed up.
The truly woke part is the logic. The museum is protecting the dignity of the dead by locking them in a storage room where nobody will ever learn their names. That's not respect. That's putting Grandma in the attic so she doesn't feel objectified at Thanksgiving.
Tucker has a modest proposal. Next time, ask the mummy directly. If he doesn't object within 3,000 years, that's a yes. Silence is consent in the sewer, and frankly, it's the most polite thing Nekht has done all century.
The Demorat is satire. This article is a comedy roast based on real news reports; quotes and scenarios beyond the cited facts are invented for laughs.
The real story that inspired this
