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What is your favourite way to die?
a) Crouched on the bathroom floor right next to the toilet (into which you have vomited), with the Smiths on really really loud in the next room?
b) Gracefully, of old age, in the comfort of the Freaks Anonymous nursing home in Jamaica, with reruns of 'Buffy' playing while you stop breathing?
c) Over and over and over again. Ohhhhhhhhh, and again. Yeah, please, I wanna die one more time tonight...
d) Of autoerotic asphixiation, just like Michael Hutchence.
e) In a plane crash commandeered by terrorists, thus ensuring you attain a small celebrity, leading to the post-humous publication of your unfinished novel by a small but trendy NYC press.
f) With a laptop hooked up to your hospital bed -- with regular posts on Barbelith and your weblog(s) about how long it's taking you to die, how difficult it is to breathe, the philosophical implications of this situation and whether it makes you truly post-human or just a pathetic Net addict. (Reflections on Plato's cave, and Latin tags, an optional extra.)
g) Against the bulkhead, with the words 'Resistance is futile' echoing hollowly in your ears. |
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