question of the weekend: What do you want on your tombstone?
It’s a simple enough question, but it gets thornier the more you think about it:
What do you want on your tombstone?
I don’t want a tombstone at all, actually. Whatever bits of me are left should be taken by those who need them — organs donated; or my flesh roasted and eaten by the survivors of the remote mountain plane crash — and then whatever else is not useful that way should be sent to the body farm for research purposes. I’d like to donate my body to science fiction; donating my body to CSI is as close as I can probably get.
Of course, I hope there are no good bits of me left. I subscribe to this philosophy:
Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, But rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming “WOO HOO what a ride!”
This assumes that totally worn out and used up comes around the age of 125, not 45.
(Multiple variations of this quote are attributed to Hunter S. Thompson. Other variations are attributed to Anonymous. Stupid Internet: Be more informative.)
So, the tombstone question can be taken metaphorically to mean, How do you want to be remembered? And so, in keeping with my philosophy, I’d like my tombstone to read:
She really lived.
I’m still working on making that really-living a reality.
(If you have a suggestion for a QOTD/QOTW, feel free to email me. Responses to this QOTW sent by email will be ignored; please post your responses here.)
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