Talk About Passing Time!

Let's get morbid for just a minute:

Best death.  Don't know it's coming, don't realize it's hap . . .

Second best death.  Just as, or immediately after, you finish howling with laughter.

Suicide's bad -- you do know it's coming, you likely aren't laughing -- plus it's got the drawback of your being able to prevent it -- there's a decision for you!

Worst death.  This may be a tie.

One would be death by exotic and drawn-out torture executed by a devotee with skill and patience.

The other would extend over many months, perhaps years, with long and certain debilitation, pain, and general isolation from human sympathy.

Actually, the fallacy about all this has been pointed out by those keener than I.  

What we've been talking about isn't 'death', but 'dying'.

What we've been talking about is a segment of 'life'!

So, let's drop that and go on to that more appealing subject:

Immediate life, something gratifying.


I'm thinking of tonight's gyoza and rice, a brisk walk before the predicted snow, and reading from several good books at the bedside.  Good night's sleep.  Another vacation day.  Casually involving myself in tai chi, streaming old episodes of Carl Sagan's Cosmos, and feeding the cats.


No grimster, I, my friends.  Lighten up!  I've provided a comic ending.

.