Necromatic
ELEVENTY-FIRST POST!
When I die, and god willing it'll be soon enough, I have a few stipulations. It occurs to me that the idea of scattering one's ashes (or having them scattered, more accurately) is a messy and largely unnecessary enterprise, akin to emptying out a particularly large ashtray. In the end, its purpose seems to be naught but the tidying up of the world of the living after one has left it, and the practice itself can lead to rather messy consequences (re: The Big Lebowsi). It has therefore become evident that I must think of a more efficient, or at least more meaningful way for my remains to be disposed of.
ISSUE THE FIRST: Obviously, burying my corpse is out of the question, as the problems of inefficiency and pointlessness have already been discussed. I can think of no use for my remains with less intent. That being said, it seems logical that the first step must be to reduce my leavings to their smallest possible post-mortem state, which of course leads us to cremation*. THe first step much, in any acceptable process, be the immolation of my sexy, sexy body. Couple of things:
ITEM TWO NOW: Having remaindered my remains into a workable medium, it now falls to us to dispose of them in a manner that is not completely nonsensical and un-fun. The idea of scattering one's ashes, while stupid, is time-honored and ripe for parody so, along those lines, I have decided upon a few "scatterings" that will suit both my need for purpose in my motal remnants' disposal and society's need for emotional closure in the face of death.
THRICE TIMES A LADY; DEAD!: This is a good start, but no doubt more will come to me as I ruminate on the subject. Feel free to check back for more ideas that you, too, can use in your personal passing.
...
Anyway, I almost missed two months without updating, so I had to get this one in before July rolled around. Interesting things... I'm going to Greece on my birthday to see my cousin wed, squight house kind of fell apart through a combination of losing a girl to one of them and losing respect for the rest, and the house we were going to rent turned out to be a scam that cost us, all told, something along the lines of $1500. Sucks.
Being a knight is great. Riding horses is great. Being me is great. Do not trust Corelia Knott.
Also, could you kill an animal with your penis? More on this later.
When I die, and god willing it'll be soon enough, I have a few stipulations. It occurs to me that the idea of scattering one's ashes (or having them scattered, more accurately) is a messy and largely unnecessary enterprise, akin to emptying out a particularly large ashtray. In the end, its purpose seems to be naught but the tidying up of the world of the living after one has left it, and the practice itself can lead to rather messy consequences (re: The Big Lebowsi). It has therefore become evident that I must think of a more efficient, or at least more meaningful way for my remains to be disposed of.
ISSUE THE FIRST: Obviously, burying my corpse is out of the question, as the problems of inefficiency and pointlessness have already been discussed. I can think of no use for my remains with less intent. That being said, it seems logical that the first step must be to reduce my leavings to their smallest possible post-mortem state, which of course leads us to cremation*. THe first step much, in any acceptable process, be the immolation of my sexy, sexy body. Couple of things:
- My skull, of course, must first be removed and preserved, perhaps kept in a museum or in the study of a loved one. If time-travel has been discovered, it must be sent to myself as a child that I might cherish it growing up, never knowing I had been looking into my own grinning pall of death until the horrific day that I recognize the double point of my mandible and the signature arch of my brow in the grim rictus before me.
- If solid material is needed for any of the following items in this Death Plan (as I have now decided to call it), my bones and teeth may of course be removed as needed. I ask that my eyes be taken out after the application of a heavy sedative and are kept safe from any kind of contact or harm, suspended in a stasis field of zero-oint gravity somewhere far beneath the NORAD mountain station.
- I would ask that a fat, Italian man hide behind the kiln at the time of my cremation and, once my body has begun the process, yell out "THAT'S A SPICY MEAT-A-BALL!" to the attending morticians form behind the machination.
ITEM TWO NOW: Having remaindered my remains into a workable medium, it now falls to us to dispose of them in a manner that is not completely nonsensical and un-fun. The idea of scattering one's ashes, while stupid, is time-honored and ripe for parody so, along those lines, I have decided upon a few "scatterings" that will suit both my need for purpose in my motal remnants' disposal and society's need for emotional closure in the face of death.
- Five golden orbs are to be filled with equal portions of ashes from my urn. Then, five people chosen from my pool of friends and family (who will specified in my will) will each be given a chance to hurl their orb from the same position into the waters of Lake Winnepasaki.
- Whoever throws their orb the farthest, I will haunt.
- A cup of the ashes will be used in the baking of a cake. This cake will then be served to Michael Matthew Townsend of Downey, CA. A handwritten note I have prepared can be found in the bottom-most drawer of my bureau near the wire clippers and silverfish graveyard. The note reads, "I told you you would. -M" This is to be delivered to him only after he has eaten of the cake. Any remaining ashes will be used to fill the hollowpoints of as many rounds of ammunition as possible. Once made, these bullets will be chain-fed into a submachine and fired blindly into a crowd. Anyone killed by one of these "invitation bullets" will be in paradise with me at my afterlife's "Eternal Party."
- The party, though pleasant for the dead, will provide no relief for the mortal who won the orb toss.
- Also, anyone sentenced to death or meets an accidental demise as a direct result of carrying out these wishes will, of course, be granted full access to the "Eternal Party," and will recieve two free vouchers to the drinks bar upon check-in.
THRICE TIMES A LADY; DEAD!: This is a good start, but no doubt more will come to me as I ruminate on the subject. Feel free to check back for more ideas that you, too, can use in your personal passing.
...
Anyway, I almost missed two months without updating, so I had to get this one in before July rolled around. Interesting things... I'm going to Greece on my birthday to see my cousin wed, squight house kind of fell apart through a combination of losing a girl to one of them and losing respect for the rest, and the house we were going to rent turned out to be a scam that cost us, all told, something along the lines of $1500. Sucks.
Being a knight is great. Riding horses is great. Being me is great. Do not trust Corelia Knott.
Also, could you kill an animal with your penis? More on this later.
* Unless, of course, by the time of my death they have invented shrinking technology, in which case this list becomes far longer and much more complicated.
posted by DeadLanguage at 12:27 AM
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