Friday, February 17

Behold, my friend, as here am I.
As you are now so once was I.
As I am now, so you will be.
Prepare to die, and follow me.

I read a tombstone with this engraving while wandering a graveyard. I found it humorous; my sister found it morbid and depressing. It's kind of interesting to think that once we're dead at whatever age it is we die, after hundreds of years, all people will know about your life and everything you accomplished in it, will be summed up on a stone.

And even that is suspect.

Whenever someone dies, people always have nice things to say about that person. Even a despicable man could have something like, "successful, loyal, dedicated, hard-worker" and all the bad things about the man are left out, as if they were unimportant or never happened. In the words of my dad, "A bad man has never died." Is this the message we're trying to give? That all that matters is what good we do and the bad is forgotten? I think you have to take the good with the bad. When they're dead, just because they're not there to defend themselves is no reason to leave out the truth. Hell, it's even more reason. He had all his lifetime to make his impression on us.

What's interesting (to someone as easily amused as I) is comparing people who lived their lives to an old age versus those who died early (in their teens, twenties,thirties...). The former approved what went on their tombstone, while those who died "before their time" had no idea what would be put on it. I think they still read the same. Perhaps there should be a website where everyone can go and update their eulogy and engraving, so that in the event of sudden death, you don't rely on other people/make them do work. It's a courtesy for your lazy friends, or if you have no friends it makes you seem good.

I think it's wack how everyone takes death so seriously. It's totally normal and inevitable and I don't find it depressing when people die. Is it just me or does everyone get sad when someone dies? At my funeral, I put the responsibility on my readers to inform everyone in charge that I want spiked punch for old and young children alike, and umbrellas in the drinks, and there will be people giving you high fives instead of depressingly solemn greeters. Also, I want Weird Al to perform. I would enjoy watching his old bones trying to fit his foot behind his head while hopping dressed as a Jedi singing "The Saga Begins" instead of "American Pie," or perhaps a more applicable song like, "Never Met A Person As Wonderful As Me," "Happy Birthday" or "It's all about the Pentiums." People cried when I came into this world, so it's only fair that nobody cries when I die ('cause usually it's the reverse).

Life means stuff when we're here, but when was the last time you cared about someone who died a thousand years ago? A hundred years even? We came, we saw, we left. The world would be really crowded without it. So...yeah. Death is cool. I'm gunna give Death a high five, for I enjoy partaking in the distribution and acquisition of high fives. I think that's something everyone should know about me.

Anyways, I could go on, but I've expressed my basic drift and rambled on enough for one night. You're probably bored and I respect you. Also, my sister makes me feel like my thoughts are worthless and trivial and not pertinant to daily life. I was making a valid point about an intermediary stage of lighting between dark and bright rooms to reduce the painful duration of pupil dilations, then went on about this red blueberry I saw that gave my brain mixed messages about its color. "That's great," was her sarcastic response. I guess that's why I ramble on here sometimes, because my family doesn't care and I feel like expressing my thoughts. But thanks for listening. And feel free to give me your two cents (I don't have a job *non-creepy wink*).

Time for lessons in French:

Je vous aurais bien aide, mais je ne vous aime pas.

On t'a bercé trop près du mur?"

T'as une tête a faire sauter les plaques d'egouts!

Votre grenouille a mangé mon dejeuner.

A dollar to anyone who finds their translations. Peace, fou.

1 Comments:

Blogger Kate undoubtedly said...

well, I understand most of what you wrote in French, but it's been three years since I had to speak it, so I am rusty.
I like how you take advantage of children...hahaha, that sounds much worse than it is meant to.
About the death thing...My dad says that when his dad dies there will be no tears. When he says this, it makes me think that there will be VERY FEW, if any, good things said. I think it will basically be "Well, Bill is dead. Let's bury him and divide the flowers among us so we can enjoy their beauty." That's about it.
You know, I have no desire to download your American-crap-instant-messenger. I would much rather use the other American-crap-MSN I have and you should just give me your email address.

3:04 AM  

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In the year 2006 I resolve to:
Blame Canada.