Monday, 17 June 2013

The Badass Burial

When I die, I want to be thrown into an active volcano. Fuck cremation and scattering my ashes in a silty pond in the Lake District, fuck being buried under a tree with my name on a plaque on a nearby bench in a botanical garden which is itself being gradually buried under bird shit. I want to be thrown, without a casket, in my best suit, into an active volcano; preferably one that's about to erupt, in which case I'll have to be dropped from a helicopter, which will be extra badass. It will be called a lava burial, and it will be boss as all shit. It'll go down in history as one of the most awesome ways of disposing of a corpse of all time. Except maybe placing a corpse over an atom bomb and detonating it wherever they used to test atom bombs. That is if they've stopped testing A-bombs.

The ways people are disposed of once they're no longer alive are so boring, except for an expensive few. Like a space burial, whereby for an enormous sum of currency, you can be massively overcooked, then have your ashes launched into space. You can have little bits of dust that were once your genitals orbiting Earth, and I just think that's really cool. There is of course the Viking burial, whereby your corpse is set ashore on a vessel then set alight, cremating you and the vessel to save having to go and get the boat. There's alkaline hydrolysis, whereby your body is basically broken down into its chemical components. There are, of course, more clandestine ways of getting rid of your smelly corpse once you've kicked the dust; you can be dumped in a freezer or in a body of water; you can be effectively liquified with strong acids; you can be buried in concrete or cement; and finally, you can be crushed within a scrapped car. So you can forever be with "Pug", your beloved 2001 Peugeot 106 with a 1.2 litre engine, fart can exhaust, and silly aftermarket wheels.

Just make sure you aren't disposed of by incompetent knuckle-draggers, by being chucked in the woods to be discovered a week later by a jogger or a dog-walker, or lobbed in the river Severn to have your partially decomposed cadaver found some years later. That's not dignified or badass.

I might also consider being fed into a wood chipper which is aimed at an open window of a mental health clinic. That sounds like messy fun which I won't have to help clear up, because I'll be the mess.

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