It was disconcerting to read of my recent death in the NewsTribune—”Serving readers of the Illinois Valley.” The online periodical, obviously committed to brevity in a world of gratuitous loquaciousness, ingloriously reported that I “died the morning of December 31, 2016.” The revelation of my passing, er, death, got me thinking, which is a testament to the NewsTribune’s other commitment to thought-provoking reparte’.
I’m not convinced contemplating one’s own mortality is all that healthy. After all, who wants to imagine not being. I suppose the Hindu’s have it the best, since death is only temporary. But even then, what happens if you come back as a bug, or Trump’s Press Secretary? Then what? No, thinking about one’s own death can’t be healthy.
On the other hand, thinking about someone else’s death might be cathartic. There are ex-spouses, an 11th-grade Trigonometry teacher who trained at Caligula University, and Billy Mathews—he stole my girlfriend in 4th-grade. Even then, considering one’s prior foes, much less pondering their deaths, seems like misplaced energy.
Despite the NewsTribune’s valiant effort to engage it’s readers, I am not the most introspective person in the universe. Accordingly, reflecting on my demise only took a few minutes. In summary, I was not ready to die and therefore I’ve decided that I’m not, despite FAKE NEWS to the contrary, dead. However, a four paragraph post hardly seems worth the bits and bytes needed to store the data. Therefore, below is a link to the report of my death—may it dissolve into the ether long before I do.
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Unless otherwise noted, I drew or took the photographs in the article—as lame as they may look. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is probably planned. Copyright can be found here for my original work.