Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Dead Body Stew...

Dead Body Stew....

That little witticism above is the best I can accomplish tonight. Worked something like 24 out of 32 hours. Ready for a muchly deserved couple of days off. My brain, which isn't much more in the makeup department than oatmeal and fish oil anyway, is pretty much fried.

I found this story over on Fark (which I love better than pancakes). In it, we are told of an avenue of body disposition, which involves dissolving a body in a lye solution, inside what is essentially a pressure cooker. When all is said and done, the remains slurp down a drain.

Is it dignified enough? That's the question at hand, I think. I may not be the best to answer that--I had a 10 minute conversation on Crop Dusting (the act...dare I say art...of farting in the midst of a crowd and walking away) I have to say that it gave me pause.

Burial is traditional enough. There's something kinda Viking about cremation. There's even something oddly noble, in a latter-day kind of way about donating your body to science. But as much as I think of it as an empty vessel after you die, there's still something rather unsatisfying about having your final remains turned into a bubbling goop to be flushed down the commode.

Which begs this question: In this day and age, where we are ramrodded with info about prescription medications showing up in trace amounts in our water supplies, is this something you want to contend with as well? It's one thing to get a free ticket on the emotional roller coaster via 20 years of flushed Prozac with your nice cold glass of tap water. It's another to wander headlong into the world of casual cannibalism by drinking little bits of somebody's Aunt Edna, which were dissolved in a lye solution a couple weeks before.

Outside of that, there is a valid point to the whole David Cross train of thought...I'll be dead. At the end of the day, tear my head off and use it for a bong, if you so desire. I do not care what you do with my body.

Well, that's not actually true. If I had my druthers, I'd prefer to be stuffed, mounted and bronzed, and left to scowl angrily at passing motorists as they enter into the town of Athens, Tennessee, perhaps heading southbound on Highway 11.

But, failing that, melt me down. Perhaps my remains could be useful in some other manner. Fertilizer? Fuel, perhaps. Maybe the remains could be mixed with wax, and a kickass Lava Lamp could be made from me?

Yeah. That might be cool.

And while I'm not too keen on the crockpot treatment after I die, I realize that there are probably civil ordinances against my bronzed remains being used as a tourist deterrant. I guess there's a happy medium out there somewhere. We're zeroing in....


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