“Los muertos”, I believe, is Russian for “I’m going to be dying soon, I should plan”. Well, we may not all be dying soon but according to everyone who sees me eat, I need to start planning for it here pretty soon.
Not plan how I’m going to die - we already talked about how I would prefer to die from an asteroid taking out the entire Earth so I won’t miss out on anything after I’m gone, but Pat pooh-poohed that idea claiming it was selfish of me to want to take down the entire human population with me.
No, the planning I would like to talk about is the plan for my body after it dies. Apparently if I don’t write down what I want done with it on my napkin-will then it’s going to be up to my loved ones to decide. And who can trust them?
Now ideally I would choose not to die. I’m one of those pro-lifer types that would prefer to abort death and live forever. But until they have a cure for dead I should probably make a decision. Of course there is the option of having my body, or just my head, frozen but I don’t trust any of those companies. What happens to my body/head if they go bankrupt? Does the bank now own my body/head? I don’t want a bank owning my body/head.
I think science has been able to freeze and then revive mice and burritos, but until one of those companies prove that they can reanimate a human, after being dead for several years, the only way they’re getting any of my money is by pulling it out of my cold dead hands. Or my cold dead teeth if I’m just a head at that point.
It worked for this guy.
That kind of just leaves either burial or cremation. They both sound so exciting I just can’t decide.
Pat, you appear responsible. Have you made this decision?
Pat: I’ve always been really impressed by cats when it comes to dying. They just look at you one last time, maybe to say “thanks” or “eat me!”, and then they just hobble into the hedge or trees or garage and die and become skin and bones, only to be found later on by little kids who can reassemble their remains for elementary school science projects.
That’s kind of my plan as of right now.
Christian: But not only are you counting on knowing exactly when you are going to die, you are also assuming you’ll have the strength and ability to crawl into some hedges somewhere. I hate to burst your death bubble but I don’t think this cat-like dying plan of yours is going to work. Either way someone is going to find your body and then they’ll have to decide what to do with it.
What do you want them to do with your body?
Pat: I’m fine with waiting a bit. You’re right...I might hobble off to the hedge and realize that I’m not quite ready to die. I’ve thought of that already. If that’s the case, I’ll just lie down and wait. Seems pleasant enough.
If, alternatively, I don’t have enough energy to hobble, well ,then...I’ll just die right there. Yeah, it’ll be hard for the loved ones nearby, but easy enough for me.
And I don’t care what they do with my body. I don’t think I’ll know, either way. Wait! Do you know something I don’t know?
Christian: Yes lots of things. But are you sure you’re OK with trusting your loved ones to do whatever they please to your defenseless body?
I’m torn. If I decide not to be buried then what if there is a zombie apocalypse that turns the dead into walking cannibals? I know what you’re thinking - that doesn’t sound good - so let me finish, dammit! You turn into the walking dead but what if they then find a cure for walking deadness which turns you alive again. Voila! You’re livin' large! Again! If I am to be cremated I would miss out on this golden opportunity.
But on the other hand if a zombie apocalypse never happens I’m not too sure how I feel about spending eternity in a box underground. In that case I guess I might prefer to be cremated and have my ashes spread out across some mighty forest and have myself become the trees or something. But now that I think about it, I guess in that case I would prefer to be spread out onto some young virile man so that I could become a young virile man. Again!
Have you not taken these issues into consideration?
Pat: Oh, I have. Maybe not the zombie situation. At least not to the depth that you obviously thought about it. But I have.
I think you’re placing a lot of emphasis on the value of staying alive. That’s good and all, and I certainly understand why you would do so.
But I think at a certain point I’ll just find myself really...tired. And, you know, with not much to do. Crosswords are good and all, but if they’re the only thing you look forward to when you wake up, then I don’t know if waking up is all it’s cracked up to be.
Maybe if my life could be prolonged indefinitely at my current age. 41 ain’t half bad, y’know, and I could go on like this for at least another…well...41 years, I guess, since that’s the only frame of reference for time-on-earth that I have.
Oh...I’ve gone and gotten myself confused again.
Christian: Me too. To be honest that has been no help. I’m starting to think there’s no winning at this death thing.
Do any of our dearest cherished readers have some advice for me?