Sulkdodds
The Freeman
- Joined
- Jul 3, 2003
- Messages
- 18,846
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- 27
Inspired by the organ donation thread. Presuming that your wishes will be taken into account, how do you want your body to be treated after you die? Burial at sea? Viking cremation? Shot out of a cannon?
Please explain your decision - that's the WHY. Things practically achievable in our current time are preferred but not mandatory.
*
...myself, I'd like to be buried. Sure, being cremated and turned into a diamond for my children to inherit sounds cool. And floating around in space, frozen stiff, gazing down with dead unblinking eyes across the surface of the world like some furious but impotent god...that's got a real kick to it. Nevertheless, when people visit my grave, I want what's left of me (even though it's not practically me anymore) to still be there in some sens. I want my bits and bobs to sleep, muted under a real weight. And I would very much like it if worms wriggled in my veins and ate my flesh, and if birds came down and ate those worms, and if those birds could flutter to perch in the boughs of trees whose roots were nourished by my body, which would be everywhere, and being of some use to someone, or something. With animal life as the engine my particles would spread out, slowly, satisfied, in the manner of a corpulent old man spreading out in an armchair and closing his eyes with a fat smile.
Sorry, that's a bit sappy. Geddit? Trees? SAPPY?
Please explain your decision - that's the WHY. Things practically achievable in our current time are preferred but not mandatory.
*
...myself, I'd like to be buried. Sure, being cremated and turned into a diamond for my children to inherit sounds cool. And floating around in space, frozen stiff, gazing down with dead unblinking eyes across the surface of the world like some furious but impotent god...that's got a real kick to it. Nevertheless, when people visit my grave, I want what's left of me (even though it's not practically me anymore) to still be there in some sens. I want my bits and bobs to sleep, muted under a real weight. And I would very much like it if worms wriggled in my veins and ate my flesh, and if birds came down and ate those worms, and if those birds could flutter to perch in the boughs of trees whose roots were nourished by my body, which would be everywhere, and being of some use to someone, or something. With animal life as the engine my particles would spread out, slowly, satisfied, in the manner of a corpulent old man spreading out in an armchair and closing his eyes with a fat smile.
Sorry, that's a bit sappy. Geddit? Trees? SAPPY?