I've always viewed life as a fun, knowledgable but in the end meaningless sideshow that eventually, well... ends. Death scares people, I think mostly because it fucking kills us. It's gonna happen and we can't fight it, no matter how shiney our plastic surgeon makes us. I accept that. Most rational people accept that. The thing I can't accept is why people are so obsessed what happens to their corpse AFTER death. Nowadays, we have all kinds of goofy shit: from people that write their own eulogies to what they call "Talking Tombstones", which are gravestones that have a photo-motion sensor in them that detects people in front of it, and sends a recorded message you left from beyond the grave. What's next, a Vietnamese Dung trap in place of your coffin "as a goof"? I mean, what the FUCK. WHY do people do this? Why do they care? I mean, you're dead. Worms are eating you. Don't you think if people wanted to hear what you said they would have listened to you when you were actually alive? I say take it one step further: have my body rigged up to pop out of the coffin at the funeral like Big Mouth Billy Bass and start singing "Got To Give It Up." But in the end, I don't care. Bury me, burn me, dip me in honey and throw me to the necrophiles I'm dead, I'm gone, I'm a ghost so I'm heading for the women's volleyball team showers. Lates. Focus: Do you care about what happens to your remains? Do you want everyone to wear Hawaiian shirts to your funeral? Or do you plain not give a shit? Alt-Focus: How do you want to "go out"? In your sleep like Flo-Jo or in a blaze of glory like Jon mothafuckin' Bon Jovi?
I just want to be burned so there's no chance of me waking up in a coffin. Hopefully that plan doesn't result in me waking up in the oven.
All I ask is no pain, no vegetative state and if I shit myself when I go, let me die before I realize my indignity. Aneurysm. Yes, that's my choice. You get a little headache, you blink a little funny and then it's lights out. Quick, effectively painless. As for what to do to me afterwards, I want to be cremated and made into a diamond.
I will more than likely die quickly, one way or another as watching my father slowly waste away from cancer showed me there are fates worse than death. After, cremated, put in a jar, with pictures of boobs on the inside with me. My wife says she'll do it, but sometimes admits it will probably be pictures of cocks instead of boobs, just to mess with me.
As long as I'm not going out at the same time in some traumatic fashion with my loved ones, ie plane or car crash with my wife and kid, I can deal with it. I'm already vaccinated from cancer so I figure I'll just die of old age around 55.
I want to be cremated and then spread across a ski hill, preferably on a powder day. I want to be cremated because I don't want people to have to take care of me for the rest of my life.
Before moving down south, the only funerals I had been to were of the Catholic variety. There would be a wake at the funeral home to view the deceased one last time, the Rosary Society would come and lead everyone in praying the Rosary followed by more prayers by a priest or deacon, then a funeral mass with depressing organ music, generic eulogy delivered by a priest who, in 99% of the cases didn't really know the deceased beyond facial recognition as a parishoner, and then the graveside ceremony. Then came the repast where everyone got drunk and feuding family members either patched things up or made things worse. Down here, all of the funeral services I've been to have been of the Baptist variety. Slideshows of the deceased set to country music--the kind that makes basset hounds howl--and multiple eulogies that seemed to speak of totally different people. I opt for cremation and the cheapest vessel for my remains, like an El Producto cigar box. Since I no longer affiliate myself with any religious body, my funeral will be a simple service where I will eulogize myself and I will conclude with an invitation to the repast, followed by an African-American gospel choir performing Prince's "Let's Go Crazy" as they lead the attendees out, arms raised and hands shaking. Spread the ashes in the ocean, or don't. It really won't make any difference to me.
Focus: I want to be cremated and the remains spread here: Spoiler No fucking around with an expensive casket or preserving my body that'll rot anyways, just dump me in the woods and water after the funeral. Alt-Focus: I'd prefer a painless, trauma-free death, but bottom line I don't wanna end up being a burden on my family. If I ever get a terminal illness, I'd want be a big ass party followed by a "final" canoeing trip where I'd hunt and fish (to hell with bag limits) for as long as I want and save one last bullet for myself.
For some reason it made me think of this old quote from bash.org. Spoiler <evilada>: Best suicide plan ever <mcm310>: what is it? <evilada>: you go up to the top of a roof <evilada>: string piano wire tight across the front edge at neck level <evilada>: tie a cord to your foot and the other end to the building so that you'll be above sidewalk level when its fully stretched <evilada>: then you put super glue on your hands <evilada>: and put your arms around the front of the wire and then back to touch your head <evilada>: then you lean forward, so the piano wire cuts your neck but not your elbows <evilada>: when the cord goes taut, youll be hanging upside down with no head....except your head will be in your outstretched arms thanks to gravity and the glue, staring at someone upside down and spewing blood everywhere. <evilada>: And some poor bastard will be traumatized for LIFE. <mcm310>: i dont think i can be your friend anymore
There are a couple questions in play here. Can I become a Vampire/werewolf/immortal? If I can, will it be the gay version from the Twilight movies (in which case fuck off)? If I can't live forever, and other people are going to dispose of my body, then I don't give a fuck what they do with it. Burn it/bury it/ eat it... I don't give a fuck what you do with my body. I'm dead already...
I'm not really scared of death, but I am scared of dying. So, whatever it is, I just want it to be quick. Whether it's going to sleep and not waking up again when I'm really old, or getting shot in the head tomorrow, all I care about is that it's not some long, drawn-out, painful process. But, it will probably be cancer or Altzheimer's, so, boo. As for what to do afterwards, I read about this thing once where you can essentially plant your ashes in the ground and grow a tree out of them, but I tried finding it again after I read Stiff and didn't have any luck in my half-hearted attempts. But, that's what I'd like to do if it exists. I like the idea of having someplace where the people I leave behind can visit me, but a tree is so much nicer than a tombstone, and then I can be The Giving Tree. Also, even though I'm sure by the time I die I will have won the Nobel Prize for Literature as well as a Pulitzer, Oscar, and Emmy, and people will remember me from that. But, just in case that doesn't happen, it would be nice to have some mark of my existence on this planet that lives on past when I do.
My Fiance is one of the most selfless people on the planet, she never asks anything of anyone. And any act of kindness is repaid in spades. She really is the one of the most down to earth people I know. She is what you would call a giver. That being said, her favorite day on this planet is her birthday. She fucking loves her birthday, and doesn't just celebrate the actual day, she celebrates the entire month. Its fucking painful to listen to her during the month of May. So much so that in a drunken state I proposed how I want to die. I was going to commit suicide three days before her birthday, then when the funeral and wake were going on during her birthday..... I would have three of the most beautiful women give the most heart wrenching eulogies to me, up to including how influential I was in their life, how great of a lover I was, how I was thier everything.... I'm talking tearful renditions. (It'd be nice if they all got into a catfight on top of the casket for effect as well) The Fiance would of course would be beside herself, but there would be one last kicker. As an encore I would have one of my gay friends give an even more tearful speech on how I was the one true love of his life, and that even though he didn't want to sully my memory he felt the need to let everyone know that I was a flaming homo. I figure this would finally give peace to everyone that has to listen to my Fiance every month since I sullied the day for her. How could she ever enjoy her favorite day when in the back of her mind she couldn't stop thinking about how I killed myself, and had cheated on her with 3 different women, and a gay dude? She might finally shut the fuck up about it. So it would partially be a public service to everyone who's had to listen to the Fiance around her birthday month, and would also serve as a great practical joke to my Fundie mother, and my homo hating father. I guarantee that my friends would be rolling in the isles. As for the burial, I've talked about it on here before...... Make a wooden raft, soak the entire thing in kerosene, throw me on it, then lots of fireworks, and push me into a moderate sized body of water. Then someone shoot a flaming arrow into my dead fucking corpse. Now ensues the music and party. Cue my pre-recorded playlist which is heavily laden with Rammstein, SOAD, QOTSA, and others that I have chosen...... Then as the last flicker of flames leaves the tiny raft and the fireworks are all gone, and the last whispering of a blue flame sinks into the abyss...... The music stops, people pack up the rest of the booze, throw a last cocktail into their cup holder and they drive away.
I'm always concerned with cremation of giving organs away because what happens if they figure out how to reanimate people? What happens if magic returns? I want to be ready to go. Plus I want to have a huge fucking Tombstone with something witty on it. I'd like to die either being suffocated in between a glorious set of tits or doing something heroic. Like rescuing someone for a fire, or something of the like. I will make sure that I will never ever be kept alive by machines if I won't be able to live on my own. My grandma is currently one of those people, can't do shit by herself (even shit) and if I ever got to that point, I'd just ask "Will I ever get back to at least 75%? No? Then let me go." So many people are left alive because their family members don't want to feel the loss. Fuck you, my life let me go. Hopefully I'm like one of those old health spry folks that just go out one day.
Better bash motd: I want to die peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather. Not screaming in terror like his passengers. My way: 90 years old, shot in the nude by a jealous husband.
Cremate me and have a cocktail party in lieu of a funeral or memorial service. Because let's be honest. Every family event for us (including going over to the house after the funeral service) is really just a glorified cocktail party anyway. Let's call it what it is. There's a 98.20% chance it would turn into a dance party like Animal House's frat party: <a class="postlink" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7G1-IR2rrU" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7G1-IR2rrU</a> I can't stand the thought of my body, or anyone else's for that matter, decomposing. To me, that is more disturbing than death.
I'm pretty sure the rapture is going to occur in the next few weeks so I'm not too worried about my death as I won't die, but rather be raptured up into heaven. I'm more worried about all you fornicators and booze hounds. You all, sadly, will be left behind.
Yet you're becoming a doctor. Interesting. I like the idea of my corpse fertilizing the soil of a flower bed or something fruity. What disturbs me is being pumped full of chemicals, not to eradicate denigration of the flesh, but prolong and stave off the decomposition process, forever in a stasis of limbo, unable to rot, merely fermenting in my hermetically sealed box. Sometimes I think of my dad in the ground. That bothers me, that he could look like he did at his funeral: stiff, pale and sickeningly near mouldering, perfumed with an artificial smell of flowers, his features distorted. After all these years, that horrible image could be PRESERVED. Like he's fucking waiting for someone to visit. Fuck man, let me rot. Let the dead be dead. My uncle's widow cremated him. She has his ashes in a tacky urn on her mantle. Like he's furniture. She was his third wife, his last one died of breast cancer in the 80s. He sprinkled her ashes in her garden on his farm. I occasionally have the fantasy of liberating the poor bastard, spreading his ashes with his beloved. I like cremation. Return yourself to the earth as dust. It allows a weight to lift from your loved ones. They can have your memory, possible a marker somewhere, instead of some ghoulish shrine, an obligation to never move on. I like the idea of homage, not sick obligation. I've seen family die quick. Some died very hard. Cancer will eat you alive. What it doesn't take from you, the chemo will. Stroke leaves you sticking around for a solid 3 months,mind gone blank, unable to walk or move save for your right arm. Unable to communicate except a newborn like mewling. Three fucking months of bed sores and feeding tubes and then one day your breathing shallows, you turn grey as a storm cloud, then just flicker out when God finally remembers you. Those scare the shit out of me. With a little luck I'll go in my sleep, or with a quick coronary. Dead before I hit the floor. I'm reminded of Stephen King writing at the end of the Green Mile, "We each owe a death, there are no exceptions, I know that, but sometimes, oh God, the Green Mile is so long."
Focus: No viewing/"wake", no funeral, just chuck my ass in the ground at the cemetery after dressing my corpse in my favorite jeans, leather jacket, sunglasses, and boots. I'm pretty sure I'm going to Hell, so I'm gonna go in style. I've never liked funerals, so why burden my family with one? Alt-Focus: Gunshot to the head and let me bleed out if it's not instantaneous. Failing that, I want to drive my beloved Jeep off what's known as Fancy Gap Mountain, and die on impact with her. Nobody else will ever love my Jeep like I do, and by god if I have anything to do with it, she's coming down with me.