Shroud of Turin syncs

Last night I read not one but two references to (what I thought was) the Shroud of Turin in The Peyote Dance by Antonin Artaud -- not the sort of thing you expect in a French artist's tales of his travels in Mexico.

And an impression of the true face of Christ was shown them [the Tarahumara Indians], the same one that was imprinted on the veil of St. Veronica in the march toward Golgotha; and after mysteriously conferring, the priests of Tutuguri came and told me that this was indeed his face, and that it was in this form that the Son of God had once appeared to the ancestors of their fathers (p. 73).

[It] is He, the Word of God, whom the Tarahumara worship, as I was able to observe in the Rite of Tutuguri which takes place exactly at the rising of the Sun. And they themselves recognized this and told me so when two impressions of the Face of Christ were shown them. One on the Veil of Saint Veronica, the other on an Image taken at another moment of His Passion, and in which His True Face is perfectly recognizable (p. 97).

Looking it up now, for this post, I find that the Veil of Veronica is actually distinct from the Shroud of Turin, though they obviously have a lot in common. Each is a cloth on which the True Face of Jesus is supposed to have been imprinted by supernatural means.

Shortly after reading the above references in Artaud, I checked a few blogs and read Laeth's April 4 post "The Storyteller," a short story about a man who sells fake relics, making up fanciful stories about them in order to attract buyers. One of these apparently turns out to be the Shroud of Turin or some similar relic: "a piece of cloth, stained with blood and with a clear imprint of a face." The storyteller gets the idea of telling the story that "the cloth was the burial shroud of the son of the highest god" but hesitates, thinking it is "usually safer to go with lesser gods, smaller saints, more trivial personages." Later, not to spoil too much of the story, an angel informs him that "this time what you imagined is the real story, that is indeed the cloth which covered the body of our lord Jesus of Nazareth."

Today, for fairly random reasons (following a trail of links beginning with an article on a controversial psychotherapy technique I had heard mentioned in passing), I started reading the 1996 novel Nostradamus Ate My Hamster by Robert Rankin, an author I have never read or even really heard of before. In the opening pages, we are introduced to a pagan bartender whose regular customers have made it a tradition to give him "trinkets of a Christian nature" as Christmas presents every year as a sort of running joke. Going by the examples given, these trinkets mostly turn out to be fake relics of the sort featured in Laeth's story, including one with the image from the Shroud of Turin:

Last year he had received, amongst other things, a full-length bath towel, printed with the image of The Turin Shroud, which did little to enhance the post-tub rub down; several more nails from the true cross, that didn't match any of the others he already had in his drawer; an aftershave bottle containing the Virgin's tears and a genuine piece of Mother Kelly's Doorstep (this from a dyslexic).

(I don't get the joke about a dyslexic giving him a piece of Mother Kelly's Doorstep. Anyone care to enlighten me?)

After that, I checked William Wright's blog, which makes frequent reference to relatively obscure Tolkien characters, wondering if Túrin Turambar might happen to put in an appearance, but no dice.