When one reaches a certain point in one's life, it is inevitable that thoughts turn to the fragility and transience of all we hold dear, and especially to our mortality. I've given the matter some thought, and frankly, I'm rather disappointed by the whole 'going to die,' thing. I mean, I can see how it might be OK in principle, for other people. But really, does it have to apply to me too?
Well, since there's no answer immediately forthcoming, and given that, it's possible I might one day expire, shuffle off this mortal coil and in general act like a parrot in a Monty Python sketch, I have been considering the circumstances of my demise. Frankly, if I'm going to go, I'd like it to be as pleasant as possible.
I suspect that my last earthly experience will consist of a sound, you see. Vision will fade out, taste and smell will be a thing of the past, but even as the final veil is drawn, I still catch some echo of earthly existence. And what will that sound be?
Not, I hope, the sound of someone saying the following :
"Dear Lord, have you ever seen one that looked like that? How did it ever get in there?"
"Hey momma, come look at this guy and alllll them spiders."
"I'm sure he felt no pain at all. After all, the combine harvester was running at full power. Ignore that twitching, it's just a spasm."
"I don't know Cletus, he looks mighty dead. Well, maybe we could. After all, no-one'll ever know..."
"Of course the airlock door is closed on the outside. This is The European Space Station. Do you think we're amateurs?"
"Holy Moly. Who'd have thought a sanding machine would do *that*"
"Well, it's hard to say what the human body can achieve. I guess if you accidentally drink enough laxative, anything's possible."
"Huh. A whole nest, in one pair of pants."
"Well, turn it on again. Sooner of later this sausage machine has got to get back on line. I don't care if you think there's a blockage, we're holding up production."
"Of course that's not gasoline. If it was gasoline, do you think I'd do this?"
"Now be careful. Those Rhino's get awful twitchy in the mating season."
"Hey Bob, I found another piece. Yeah, I think this is the left one."
Of course, there are a few things that would be quite acceptable as a parting message, but I suspect, "..of course you can, it's only been seven times and there's the rest of the gymnastic team waiting in the hallway. Are you sure we have enough jello?" would have to rate right up there near the top.
Lictor.