after you're gone.

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the ten years after [right?] question. I didn't give a reply. but I might have said I'd be dead.

I remember...

first man: when you die, would you rather be buried or cremated? second man: I don't care: I'll be six feet under by then. first man: yep.

what would you want to happen to yourself when you're done living?

buried? burned? [ashes scattered or stored?] um, stuffed? embalmed? cryogenicals? [does this not count?]

― richard john gillanders, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

Packed into a firework and shot over the river Thames to explode while all the punters go "oooh" and "aaah".

― Pete, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

i want to be placed gently in the praries , in pallisers triangle, on the ground, with no sheet between me and the dirt , i want the coyotes to come out of the foothills and the ravens to congerate on the trees, let them have the last commuinon, let them return me to earth.

― anthony, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

Don't really care what they do with me - stuffed in a bin liner and left on a waste dump, probably. I'm not going to be there to pass judgement.

― Marcello Carlin, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

cremated. don't want to take up any space.

― gareth, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

Well, this is nice.

― N., Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

isn't it?

― richard john gillanders, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

I like Anthony's answer, I have to say. There's a family plot in a cemetery near Hollister, in turn near the Salinas Valley in California, and recently our family has favored cremation. I know both my parents want that, and though I haven't given much thought to my own fate, I think that's as reasonable a way to go as any. Just tuck me into a corner of the plot and my shade will burble happily to itself.

― Ned Raggett, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

I'm gonna be UNDEAD.

― DG, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

no cheating.

― richard john gillanders, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

I'm getting blasted into space and bought back to life by alien technology! yay!

― jel, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

or maybe nanobots will dissasemble me. Or maybe it'll be like Soylent Green...yuck.

― jel, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

there won't be any remains. i'm going out with a bang.

― Maria, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

When my time comes, i will be cremated and ashes scattered .

― Gale Deslongchamps, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

A seat in the House of Lords would be nice.

― Trevor, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

I'm going to "Vanilla Sky" myself repeatedly in order to achieve a semblance of immortality.

― Dan Perry, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

Woke up this morning, put on my slippers
Walked in the kitchen and died
And Oh! what a feeling when my soul went through the ceiling
And on off into Heaven I did rise.

When I got there, they did say - John, it happend this-a-way
You slipped upon the floor and hit your head
And [E]all the Angels say, just be[A]-fore you passed away
These were the very last words that you said.

Chorus:
Please don't bury me down in the cold, cold ground
No, I'm gonna have 'em cut me up and pass me all a-round
Throw my brain in a hurricane and the blind can have my eyes
And the deaf can take both of my ears if they don't mind the size.

CHORUS

Give my stomach to Milwaukee if they run out of beer
Put my sox in a cedar box just get 'em out of here
Venus De Milo can have my arms, look out, I've got your nose
Sell my heart to the junkman and give my love toRose. But;

CHORUS

Give my feet to the footloose, careless, fancy free
Give my knees to the needy, don't pull that stuff on me
Hand me down my walking cane, it's a sin to tell a lie
Send my mouth way down south and kiss my ass good-bye. But;

CHORUS

― Ed, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

Sealed in a mausoleum constructed from melted recorded media.

― electric sound of jim, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

I want to be cremated and have my ashes scattered over this guy I don't like.

Wasn't there a Japanese artist who was buried with their collection of Aphex Twin cd's, scary or what?

― Billy Dods, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

I want to be cremated and have my ashes scattered over this guy I don't like.

You are my HERO.

― Dan Perry, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

I'm going to be cryogenically frozen the instant before I die. Once the freezers go screwy I will rule the kingdom of the undead. 'Ware!

― Tracer Hand, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

No room for all the bodies of this world. I would want myself burned into powdery dust (if possible...I hear that cremation only goes so far...bones take forever to turn into complete ash). I think I would want my ashes buried in no canister, just straight into the dirt on some remote island. That way I could disintegrate in peace, and hopefully just return to molecules. I believe in reincarnation...so it wouldn't matter what happens to my physical body once I'm done. I'm done, done. Hm...I don't think taxidermy works really well with humans...though I have heard that they save tattoos off of human skin and then stretch them like canvas...they stay preserved somehow or another. That sounds kinda interesting. I think I would want my tattoos saved too, if I were cremated.

― kimera, Monday, 21 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

to have my ashes scattered over the same fake waterfall i pissed off in 1994

― goeff, Tuesday, 22 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

I want to be sent to Matmos so that they can make an album out of me.

― Honda, Tuesday, 22 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

Can we quit talking about this now, please, it's depressing.

― Marcello Carlin, Tuesday, 22 January 2002 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

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