November 2006 Archives


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Ich kann nicht dieses alles auf meinen selbst tun.
Ich weiß, ich bin kein uber-mensch.

Ich wünsche, daß Buchstaben von „Str. anderwohin“ oben in meinem Leben zeigen würden, also könnte es der autistische Zickleins auch sein Traum eines.

When You Are Dead

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When you are dead, you don’t know how long you have been dead. How long you have been dead is one of those things that matters to alive people, but not to dead people.

Dead people have other, more important, things to worry about anyway. Worrying about the wives, husbands, children, friends and lovers that you left behind fills all of your time, even though there is nothing you can do for them, because, well, you’re dead.

It’s hard to describe what it’s like when you’re dead. Not that you would ever need to describe it, because there will never be other dead people to describe it to and alive people would never understand.

You’re that you are nowhere in particular. Being dead isn’t like being in a place; instead it’s exactly like not being in any place. There’s nothing to see, maybe because you don’t have anything to see with, or maybe just because there’s nothing to be seen. The same goes for hearing, tasting, smelling and touching. It doesn’t feel like anything to be dead, you’re just dead.

Dead people don’t miss anything. You don’t need anything, because, remember, you’re dead, so you don’t miss anything. You just worry about the people you left behind, even though you can’t remember who they were these wives, husbands, children, friends and lovers.

There are alive people that say they can talk to dead people, but usually it isn’t true. These alive people just make up things that other alive people would like to hear. They say that you are happy, or that you miss the alive people you have left behind. But that’s not true, because you are not happy, or sad, and you don’t miss anything, because, again, you are dead. They will say that they feel your presence, but they don’t, because you aren’t anywhere.

But there are people who really can talk to dead people, and they don’t make up things. They ask questions like “Did anyone in the room lose a Jason or a John? What about a Jack?” and look expectantly around the room. Sometimes there is no name, just a feeling that someone in the room knows a dead person with an “R” in their name. Someone in the room always knows a dead person with an “R” in their name; there are a lot of dead people, after all.

Someone who can really talk to dead people hardly ever gets anything right. They get the names of pets wrong, and they can’t describe that one summer at the lake. For every thing they get right, they will get ten things wrong, and be corrected by the wives, husbands, children, friends and lovers left behind. The alive people you left behind end up doing all the work, telling the person that can talk to dead people all about you, instead of the other way around.

That is why you worry about them. The alive people that you left behind are the only ones that remember who you were, what you did, and why you mattered. You can’t do that any more, because, after all, you are dead.

(This story was something that came out of contemplating how horrible it would be if the "John Edward"-implied after life of sitting around waiting for John Edward to show up and talk to you was real. It turned into something a little different though).

Hatching Chickens

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Well, it looks like the Democrats are taking back Congress - assuming that the Senate races go their way, which won't be official some time because of the close race in Virginia.

However, I would like to take a moment to savor one outcome from this election that is not in dispute. Rick Santorum, one of the most ignorant, hateful, homophobic jackasses ever to get elected, has lost his seat in the Senate, and hopefully, judging by the humiliating margin of his loss, his political career. Ahhhh.

I doubt that the Democrats winning the congress is going to have a huge, sweeping effect- that all of the incredibly stupid "Anti-Terrorism" theater will stop, for example, or that citizen's concerns will be placed on a level anywhere close to corporate interests. But at least a couple of real jerks lost their positions, and maybe a few of the stupidest things that have been done over the last six years will be undone over the next six (Habeus Corpus anyone? Anyone?).

UPDATE: It has been pointed out to me that Santorum is an anagram for Mt. Sauron. Ha! Funny...

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