per amica silentia lunae

or, across the ferny brae with the evil voodoo celt

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Writer's Block: Left Behind
nola
evcelt
What do you want done with your body after you die?


Cremated, and scattered around the Fairfax Stone, or at the cabin.

Edit: After all usable organs, tissue, etc. are harvested, natch...

My Valentinr - evcelt
Get your own valentinr

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By "useable", you mean "edible", right?

I mean

- non toxic
- not likely to zombify the recipient
- not likely to cause my hungry ghost to eat the recipient's face

...so there are likely to be passing few parts that are usable by that definition.

When I first read this I thought "Jesus Fuck! Why is Hugh, an otherwise rational person, writing about the Archfundamentalist rantings of Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins?!" My second thought is that perhaps it would be an amusing review.

Instead this question...which made me think.

I'd always hoped to die in a drunk driving accident, killing a family of six, including two innocent, photogenic and smiling teenagers, preferably girls. Their pathetic relatives would drag out a cornucopia of flowered crosses, Cabbage Patch dolls, and other debris. On the side where my car finally careened into fiery oblivion would be a stark caern of stones, on which would be limned roughly in blood:

"Here perished Gordon Olmstead-Dean, who slew six before he himself fell. May their souls which he claimed with his hand flee shrieking to Hel before him where they must serve him for eternity."

I doubt I'll get so lucky though, so I've resolved to leave my Head to LARP. My body I don't care so much about. I don't really want to "donate" my organs. I mean I doubt anybody would want my liver, and it's in the sort of shape that like the old orange couch it should probably be put on Freecycle. But my other organs...I shy at donating them. They're worth a fair amount of money and I don't see why my survivors should not get that money. I think my organs should be sold at auction, to the highest bidder. Perhaps one could be donated to the poor, I am not totally without heart, though arguably afterwards I would be.

My head should be stripped of its flesh by flesh-stripping beetles, and put unpainted and unadorned into a wooden box. It will then be made available as a prop for LARPs with the understanding that it must also be allowed to attend the Dead-Dog at a seat of its own, and served alcohol.

The rest of my body should be burned, and bits of the ash passed around in small packets to anyone who might have a legitimate reason to want to contact me after my death. This does not mean "everyone who has my fucking GChat."

By this measure, I intend not to pass on to some imagined "reward" but to bind myself to this plane as an ancestor spirit, becoming one of the legion of minor familial deities so common in the Orient but virtually unknown or unappreciated here. Like most such creatures, for appropriate rewards of alcohol and propitiation, I will gladly bestir myself to bless my believers, and curse their enemies.

When I first read this I thought "Jesus Fuck! Why is Hugh, an otherwise rational person, writing about the Archfundamentalist rantings of Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins?!" My second thought is that perhaps it would be an amusing review.

I could review it... but I would probably fall far short of this...

Edited at 2009-02-03 06:27 pm (UTC)

I thought you wanted to slay seven. Oh the lowering of standards...!

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