Okay. Well. How about this silly, morbid meme I snurched from Poppy's blog and have been saving for just such an uncomfortable silence? Here we go:
What do you think happens after you die?
I having many fears, a few thoughts, but absolutely no idea whatsoever.
Do you believe in heaven?
Do you believe in hell?
Do you think you will be judged after you die?
How many people would attend your funeral?
Fifteen to twenty.
Would you rather that people cry or laugh at your funeral?
Why should I have a preference? It's not for me to tell them how to grieve.
What's better? A shot in the head or downing pills?
Depends on the gun, the expertise of the person pulling the trigger, and the what kind of pills we're talking about. But, answering this dumb question of its own terms, I'll take the pills.
What should be written on your tombstone?
Would you rather die childless or divorced?
Do you want to die in the morning, afternoon, or night?
Afternoon would be nice. A summer's afternoon.
If you had a million dollars to leave, who would you leave it to?
What kind of flowers do you want at your funeral?
A variety of roses.
On your deathbed, which moment will you most remember?
It hasn't happened yet, I hope.
Have you ever watched someone die?
What's the most gruesome death you can imagine?
Let's not go there.
How often do you think about death?
Continuously. So, I don't know, Hundreds of time a day? (This is not hyperbole.)
Is fear of dying your number one fear?
Do you believe in reincarnation?
Have you ever wished someone you loved were dead?
Do you consider life short or long?
Do you think you have a soul?
Assisted suicide for a terminally ill person is:
Would you choose to be immortal, if you could be?
Perhaps not immortal, but certainly very, very long-lived. Give me a few millennia, at least. Enough time to understand just how little I know.
Yep. That was lame.