Whoa, what if that Silas is trying to get sainted by making things so unbelievably horrible and miserable that it will amount to all the best of Catholic torture to validate him before God and thus admit him to Heaven. All the stuff is gone, everybody hates him, and he's sick. All he needs now is a whip and some salt and this would be perfect. He even put up those War Child links so maybe God would like that.
Oh.
Hell.
No.
So I think about what I might say to God because, presumably, you get to meet him in Heaven. So, uh, God, nice job on making this big fucking Universe. Wanna give me a few tips on how you did that, buddy?
If he doesn't laugh, you know the conversation will suck. Or were you just expecting to be in Heaven and be quietly blissful for a billion years or eternity or whatever. That sounds excruciatingly boring and remarkably like you're still dead but ... Heaven is whatever you make it, right.
We can be reasonably sure Silas is not trying to be a saint.
(Ed: why the first and third person?)
More than one of me is writing this.
(Ed: are you crazy?)
Yes but I'm reasonably happy with that fact. You, however, are confused, lost and afraid ... and you search for something or you wouldn't be reading this. I'm not searching for anything, I'm just stoned. Finding some interesting chords in time for the show later would be good, tho.
People hate what I say because it scares them. What if it's true. Well, there's some bad news on that, Virginia. It's all true ... well ... except for the shit I make up. If you can't tell the difference then you're probably reading the wrong blog.
The death part is a bit awkward for people. I find it a bit awkward as well. What I haven't discovered as yet is an adequate way to effect this, ahem, transition. A gun is so melodramatic and messy, quite disgusting, actually. An OD on heroin may be acceptable as an OD is only a problem if you don't die as that is as unpleasant as anything that can possibly happen in your life. Well, it's not so bad if you don't mind puking for two or three days. However, a higher dose means respiration stops, heart rate stops, etc. Effective and presumably painless. Carbon monoxide is a time-honored favorite as that too is painless and relatively unmessy. It's awkward, however, as I'd have to sit in a car most likely and then that would forever be the Death Car. That's a bit wasteful.
My family may be pissed off with me for croaking on them and I'm kind of pissed off about it too. I'd prefer not to do this but melodrama isn't going to make it any more interesting. A number of people have said they would do the same thing in the same situation so I see no particular reason for melodrama unless it's to demonstrate your singular flair in rolling a joint.
This is a fundamental ethical dilemma a lot of you will face as the same thing comes with Alzheimer's Disease. It's more cruel in that case as you'll go up and down as you fade with periods of lucidity in-between. If you do not choose one of those periods for your exit then you may become a vegetable for years and then you have no control. I see no drama in this but I see a huge level of fear as you're told it's a sin before God if you do anything to end your own misery. But ask yourself if God wants to see you in pain and then think for yourself.
The moralists can get in your face and turn the end of your days into one blazing hell and some of them just live for this shit as they think it gets them closer to God. The same type of people were very common during the Inquisition. Pain gets you closer to God and someone else's pain gets you closest of all. In the continuum of fucked-up human thinking, this takes the all-time prize. (The Garden of Eden gets an Honorable Mention in this regard as giving you sexy parts and telling you that you mustn't use them was one priceless stunt.)
If they have no balls, they'll call this drama and run away but, here's a tip on that, I don't give a fuck. At this stage of the game, I don't have to. Some of you all will have this in your face in the relatively near future so is it not better to deal with such things in a dispassionate manner rather than in the height of some medical crisis in which some quack doctors want to save you ... no matter how much it hurts or what is left after. They have no ethics for this and are the wrong people to ask. It's pointless to ask a priest as he's been boned by dogma and the fellow priests since he was a boy. The Protestants are no better as they tell you it's about religion but they're just a glorified Tea Party tax revolt against the Vatican. Advice? Not likely.
There are two reasons to be alive: Cat and making music. The music is wobbling but being dissatisfied with it is not enough to off myself. Until I am definitely not able to do things I know how to do the only answer is to work harder. Past that point the answer is different and hence the reason for the discussion.
You all can do what you like but I intend to make a party out of it.
Oh.
Hell.
No.
So I think about what I might say to God because, presumably, you get to meet him in Heaven. So, uh, God, nice job on making this big fucking Universe. Wanna give me a few tips on how you did that, buddy?
If he doesn't laugh, you know the conversation will suck. Or were you just expecting to be in Heaven and be quietly blissful for a billion years or eternity or whatever. That sounds excruciatingly boring and remarkably like you're still dead but ... Heaven is whatever you make it, right.
We can be reasonably sure Silas is not trying to be a saint.
(Ed: why the first and third person?)
More than one of me is writing this.
(Ed: are you crazy?)
Yes but I'm reasonably happy with that fact. You, however, are confused, lost and afraid ... and you search for something or you wouldn't be reading this. I'm not searching for anything, I'm just stoned. Finding some interesting chords in time for the show later would be good, tho.
People hate what I say because it scares them. What if it's true. Well, there's some bad news on that, Virginia. It's all true ... well ... except for the shit I make up. If you can't tell the difference then you're probably reading the wrong blog.
The death part is a bit awkward for people. I find it a bit awkward as well. What I haven't discovered as yet is an adequate way to effect this, ahem, transition. A gun is so melodramatic and messy, quite disgusting, actually. An OD on heroin may be acceptable as an OD is only a problem if you don't die as that is as unpleasant as anything that can possibly happen in your life. Well, it's not so bad if you don't mind puking for two or three days. However, a higher dose means respiration stops, heart rate stops, etc. Effective and presumably painless. Carbon monoxide is a time-honored favorite as that too is painless and relatively unmessy. It's awkward, however, as I'd have to sit in a car most likely and then that would forever be the Death Car. That's a bit wasteful.
My family may be pissed off with me for croaking on them and I'm kind of pissed off about it too. I'd prefer not to do this but melodrama isn't going to make it any more interesting. A number of people have said they would do the same thing in the same situation so I see no particular reason for melodrama unless it's to demonstrate your singular flair in rolling a joint.
This is a fundamental ethical dilemma a lot of you will face as the same thing comes with Alzheimer's Disease. It's more cruel in that case as you'll go up and down as you fade with periods of lucidity in-between. If you do not choose one of those periods for your exit then you may become a vegetable for years and then you have no control. I see no drama in this but I see a huge level of fear as you're told it's a sin before God if you do anything to end your own misery. But ask yourself if God wants to see you in pain and then think for yourself.
The moralists can get in your face and turn the end of your days into one blazing hell and some of them just live for this shit as they think it gets them closer to God. The same type of people were very common during the Inquisition. Pain gets you closer to God and someone else's pain gets you closest of all. In the continuum of fucked-up human thinking, this takes the all-time prize. (The Garden of Eden gets an Honorable Mention in this regard as giving you sexy parts and telling you that you mustn't use them was one priceless stunt.)
If they have no balls, they'll call this drama and run away but, here's a tip on that, I don't give a fuck. At this stage of the game, I don't have to. Some of you all will have this in your face in the relatively near future so is it not better to deal with such things in a dispassionate manner rather than in the height of some medical crisis in which some quack doctors want to save you ... no matter how much it hurts or what is left after. They have no ethics for this and are the wrong people to ask. It's pointless to ask a priest as he's been boned by dogma and the fellow priests since he was a boy. The Protestants are no better as they tell you it's about religion but they're just a glorified Tea Party tax revolt against the Vatican. Advice? Not likely.
There are two reasons to be alive: Cat and making music. The music is wobbling but being dissatisfied with it is not enough to off myself. Until I am definitely not able to do things I know how to do the only answer is to work harder. Past that point the answer is different and hence the reason for the discussion.
You all can do what you like but I intend to make a party out of it.
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