Sweet Lovely Death
Wednesday, May 18th, 2005Even though I had terrible dreams about being eaten by crocodiles when I was a kid, I think that being eaten would be a great way to go. Because then at least you’re giving something back to the world, or to the crocodile at least. Stupid old humanity and their respect for lifeless husks, it’s a needless burden on the environment to burn a body or to build a graveyard. Let it be known that when I die, I want my body to be fed to sharks or wolves or something. Maybe a swarm of starving chihuahuas so that they acquire a taste for human flesh.
Also I think that when you fill out the organ donor form, you should also be able to write a test. And I don’t mean take a test, I mean write it. When you die and the doctors divide up all your pink goodies, prospective recipients have to take the test you wrote — sort of an application form. If they don’t pass the test (and you can set it so that passing means you have to get 50% or 100% or whatever) they don’t get the donation. That way I can make sure my kidney isn’t going to someone who is stupid (because that would be a waste of a perfectly good kidney), or someone who is anti-abortion and anti-gay, like, say, the Pope.