547 – Hat Trick • 04


I’m turning forty-two next month. I got carded buying a bottle of wine last week. At this age I relish each time this happens thinking it’ll probably be the last time ever, but eager to save the experience so that I might later brandish it at the state-run elderly care facility where they send dishwashers, bike couriers, and web cartoonists. “I may look old now, but I was still gettin’ carded for liquor when I was almost forty-two! Suck on that ya wrinkled old farts! Now gimme yer jello or I’ll knock yer teeth out with my cane again!”

Really though I’m hoping never to end up in a place like that. That’s one of the reasons I never had any kids. Kids’ll throw your ass in an old folks’ home faster’n you can blink… ’cause they’re selfish. It’s not their fault, it’s just that this is the relationship they grew up having with you. They’re born, you do everything for them, in return they do nothing, and everyone is happy about it because you’re their parent and they’re just the cutest thing ever and look at that beautiful little baby poop… This is not the way to raise someone you expect to care for you one day. This is the way to raise someone who will measure you by your usefulness to them, and who will then drop you like an exploding porcupine as soon as you become a pain in their ass.

It isn’t even that your kids don’t have the ability to love unconditionally in them. They do. They are capable of displaying the same level of kindness and sacrifice and whole love that you gave to them… only they’re giving it to their kids, who in fifty years are gonna drop their asses in the same nursing home they’re about to put you into.

Personally, my plan is to fend for myself as long as I can, and then die in front of the holo-TV, playing Grand Theft Hover-Auto or masturbating along with 3-D images of Samantha Who? with the parental controls set to “Nude.” (Though that second one may be an inconvenient death if Lena doesn’t go first.)

In any case, this is all leading up to…

The Monday Question:

Which is, if you could pick the manner of your own death, what would it be? Death by Chocolate? Heart attack while getting blown by Gillian Anderson? Drowning in a river of your own money? How do you want to go?

74 Responses to 547 – Hat Trick • 04

  1. Some manner that takes out every irredeemable asshole but leaves (at least) all the generally-agreed viable human beings.
    If you insist on something specific and realistic I guess I’d settle for dying in a nifty explosion I was personally known for (having caused it) thereafter.

  2. I think I’d like to spontaneously combust on nation-wide live TV. Or get smooshed by a crashing UFO- thereby saving it from irreparable damage, so the human race can take the technology and become masters of the galaxy. Maybe be videoed being eaten by the Loch Ness Monster. Those would be some cool ways to go.

  3. Quickly. Or, well… Probably something stupid, like dying to save or protect someone I love.

    I can see that” 😆 Bunker is so… unbelievable 🙄

  4. In a blaze of glory while rescuing 12 sacrificial virgins from a skinhead-gangsta-outlaw-biker-rape-gang-cult.

  5. in my sleep and not knowing it was going to happen, cos being on the obsessive-compulsive side and a worrier to boot, i’d be stressed for weeks thinking i’d somehow get it wrong through not having planned well enough, heh

    also, i still occasionally get in horse shows and places to visit on a child ticket, which is up to and including age 15 – i’m 26. they just ask ‘one adult, one child?’, and neither of us disagree (because then i have half the proper entry fee still in my pocket, to be spent on sweets and junk food later, hooray! :mrgreen: ….which yeah, rather childish, perhaps they’re onto something in thinking i’m under fifteen, hehehe)

  6. Guillotine. I’m certain there must be a moment when your head is rolling when you are still conscious and can register what you can see. I want to test that theory.

    • Oh yeah. I saw that in a movie once. These german shepherds that everyone said were wolves were running around New York slicing people’s heads off and the mouths would move and the eyes would look around after the heads hit the street… You know, that would be pretty cool. Especially if you could get someone to hold you up so you weren’t just looking at the bottom of a basket or something dumb like that.

    • Well, since the brain can survive for short amounts of time without oxygen, it must be true, although I hope this sure is shorter than the 3 minutes of brain death

  7. In a 1969 Dodge Charger, with fully blown hemi, doing about 120MPH straight into a wall while listening to “You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet” by BTO… on 8-track. Quick, little pain, and one helluva a ride. Of course, no seat belts. 🙂

  8. I’d like to go fighting off evil villians with my bare hands. Of course I would succeed in wiping out any and all offenders but to fall into a trap saving some little girl who happened to be randomly out in the middle of the city all on her own crying in the middle of the street with her teddy bear as a bus falls from the sky looking to smash into her, inevitably ending in my doom.

    Where many movies, comics, and video games will be created in my memory.

  9. What oingy boingy said — in my sleep, preferably. I’m a fan of mountaineering and hiking in general — I’d really like to be sitting under a tree above a mountain range or something idyllic like that and just go to sleep and not wake up.

    But really, the very question of “how would you like to die?” may become moot for most purposes in the (relatively) near future. I’d like to live then.

    • Under the assumption that your ghost is tied to the place where you die, I’ve always felt bad for people who died at work. (Except for porn stars.) Up on a mountain sitting under a tree with the world laid out below you sounds pretty fine.

  10. When the warp engine of my hyper-craft finally gives out, and I collapse into the mega-blackhole that contains all the rest of the matter in the universe, sortly prior to it explodeing back out in another Big Bang.

  11. Bitten in half by a dinosaur in a tub of electrified jello.

    This has been my dream death since before I got out of highschool.

  12. Complete physical conversion of my body into antimatter whenever I enter the effective blast radius of the resulting explosion of Osama Bin Laden.

    • Problem: That’s a lot of boom, would probably kill everybody else too unless you and OBL did this on the other side of Jupiter or something.

      • While I applaud your patriotism and nerve, I can think of lots of better ways to die than just killing someone else. Or in the case of your particular scenario, everyone else.

        • OK, OK…hmn…how about being randomly teleported to a random point in the universe (most likely into hard vacuum, there’s a whole lot of space out there), taking every single Asshole on the planet with me.

          “Asshole” being defined as: Anyone who has killed, or is planning to kill, innocent women and children for some idiological reason, or just for money, or, in fact, kills people for any reason other than self defense or the defense of others.

          That a bit better?

          • I dunno. Technically, every time you have money you fail to give away to someone who might die without it, (of which there are a constant and never-ending supply) you have acted to effect the death of another human being for your own profit.

            I have a solution though. Just don’t try to define “asshole.”

  13. Hrm… I don’t know what happened to mine. 🙁 Not that it was anything cool or anything. I just said I don’t care how I die, as long as there isn’t any suffering and agony for anyone.

    • As an evil genie hearing the wish, “End all suffering,” I’d end all things capable of suffering–particularly since I doubt there is any other way to end suffering.

    • I checked the flag list and didn’t see it. I know I have accidentally hit the “Cancel Reply” button on accident in stead of the “Submit” button.

      No suffering or agony? Planning on having X passed out at the wake? (Hey, that would be kinda awesome.)

  14. I would like to become something of a warden ghost, accompanying troubled kids / people, protecting them and give them subconscious advice when urgently needed (sixth sense). And if they got their life under control, I would wander off to help somebody else.
    I know, this sounds pretty boring and all too do-goody.
    But, on the plus side of things, I would be the perfect peeping tom. ;-D

    • If you get your kicks from looking that would be an interesting balance of victimization and altruism. As someone whose kicks come from touch, taste and thought instead that sounds like hell to me.

    • I think that sounds pretty cool, Vosla. I imagine that after a while of it, no matter how you used to get your kicks when you still had a body, doing good would become an entirely fulfilling purpose.

      As long as you always gave good advice.

      • The idea came to me as I paid a friend a visit in California. We encountered a stone old native american who claimed to be a lone shaman. We helped him with his slipped off water tank and he offered to tell us our soul totems. The totem for my friend was found pretty fast but he couldn’t find mine. He gazed at me with a mix of disbelieve and something else and said that I didn’t had a totem but instead I was a member of the ghost world. As far as I know native american religions, this could mean two things:
        1. I am prime material for a great shaman myself, instant access to the great ghost dance and the lot all inclusive .
        2. I am something of a living dead for his people.
        After some time my friend said he heard that the shaman had left that part of land he had resided in – because he had seen me there, wandering through the dry lands and hills at day & night (but I was back home in Europe); the shaman thought he made a mistake the day he encountered me.

        That motif – somebody seeing me at places where I wasn’t – hangs on with different kind of people, even with those who didn’t know the original story. Though I always regarded this whole episode as bullshit.

        The fun part is that one of my military call signs was also ‘Ghost’.

        • I got a raven. (No big surprise there.) My shaman was impressed that I had trained myself from a very young age to be able to fly in my dreams and occasionally met persons not of this world in them as well. She told me I was a “traveler” and a shaman myself.

          For the record I also dream-trained myself to be bulletproof and kill limitless waves of zombies.

  15. If I had to choose, I would want to die fighting to defend someone. Doesn’t really matter who, just someone who couldn’t defend themself from someone who was intent on killing them. Hopefully it would be a group of people otherwise it had better be someone damn important, like the guy who invents limitless fuel or a longer burning light-bulb or something.

  16. I’ve always wanted to sit in a wheelchair, set fire to myself and then hurl myself off the Grand Canyon while my eldest friend stand beside me, stroking a large white beard and saying: “There passes Daniel, son of Ergumet”.

      • Seriously, it is Ergumet. He’s from Turkey, you know. People are called such things in Turkey. And it’s a reference to Denethor, son of Ecthelion, with a nod to Benelux of Bored of the Rings (who was in a wheelchair).

    • Stroking a large white beard? “Daniel, son of Ergumet”?

      I’m puzzled, is this friend of yours Pai Mei or Gandalf?

  17. Under the care of a highly advanced Alien species that will take my brain the milisecond it is clinically dead and transplants it into a younger, better, stronger Body of my own choosing where they will revive it
    and enhance it with all kinds of nifty features like Psychic powers and the perfect mastery of all
    Languages in the Universe!

  18. I would like to be able to do one more hike into the remote mountains and go to my favorite spot, then pass away in my sleep. My corpse to be found by Biologists tracking migrating wolves.

  19. I will one day die at the hands of my own creaton. It’s not HOW I want to go, but Irony is a bitch.

    As for being carded, I went to the store once with my wife and we had wine in the cart. The check out lady asked me for my ID and I fished for my wallet. My wife (who was paying) got hers out first and the cashier said “Oh I don’t need to see yours.” and proceeded to ring us out. one point three eight seconds later she turned BEET red and began to apologize profusely…

    I had to buy flowers.

  20. Aphyxiation from a CO2 buildup on the trip back from Mars. If I had no other choice that is. Personilly, I’ld just take Immortality for 300 dollars, Alex-bot.

  21. Heck, I’m lazy. I’ll just take heart attack while being blown by Gillian Anderson. Or Alyson Hannigan. Or both at once. Or…um, excuse me. I’ll be back in a few minutes.

    • As long as they didn’t stop just because you were having your heart attack. Can you imagine anything more frustrating? Literally your last seconds on earth, defined by a missed orgasm.

  22. LOL! Shot in the back by a jealous husband while going down on Gillian Anderson sounds good to me… 😆