When I die...
Somebody will go through my computer and find a goldmine of information about me.
Including all of my DU posts in Notepad, where I typed them before pasting on DU. As well as some things I reconsidered when I calmed down and chose not to post on DU. As well as other things I copied into Notepad, like certain racist, misogyinistic, bigoted and homophobic statements by others that I captured there.
If the folks writing my obit are the same ones who go through my computer, that ought to be a real hoot! 
= new reply since forum marked as read
Our mortality is upon us, and you can recoil in fear or think of the humerous things and smile.
Hell, I live alone in an apartment and my death will not even be noticed for weeks or maybe months until my downstairs neighbor notices the stench.
My carrion smell is not the way I'd prefer to be noticed, but it is what is is. 
If he dies in his apartment alone, the stench won't be his problem.
Like you I prefer to laugh at our mortality. Life is full of laughs 
(in the event we drop and are not found for a while.)
On second thought, this is a case of the cure being worse than the diseae.
When I was wounded in Vietnam a local newspaper went to my older brother for info and I was amazed by the amount of details he gave them about all of my exploits and and achievements in high school. I mean really detailed, and the paper published all of it.
That could explain why, when I showed up at a HS reunion, one old friend told me that I couldn't be there because I was dead. That newspaper report was so complimentary and obit-like that I could understand why everybody thought I'd died.
My 50th HS reunion is coming up, so I can't wait to disabuse others of the notion that I'm dead. 
Still, sometimes I wonder if we're being had.
Well worth an R&K. Especially your response to CAPeg.
Big fan, BTW.
When I see your posts, I always feel like I'm meeting an old friend and ally again. 
First off, sorry for your loss. Your uncle sounds like a fine man. 
I guess the only reason I would care one way or the other, I'd hate to leave a big clean-up job for everyone else. But beyond that, I won't know the difference, so it doesn't- fundamentally- matter to me. I suppose there is a certain metaphorical beauty in the idea of relieving oneself of a particularly large bowel movement and simulatenously freeing the spirit of the earthly attachments of life and matter, desire and fear.
Or something.
Interestingly enough, when my Dad died he was given a full blown fire and brimstone Catholic funeral-- my Dad, who was born an East Coast WASP and whose Theism was more akin to that of Einstein and Spinoza than Ratzinger. It was downright weird, the whole fucking thing, not the least of which was the Priest--- fuck, it must have been a Priest, right?- tried to airbrush my Dad's entire first marriage; and the kids from it who were sitting right in front of him, out of the narrative of the man's life. But when he got to the bit about accepting Jesus or burnin' in hell, he was looking right at me and my Sister.
I suspect I was stoned out of my everlovin' gourd - given the time period - that's the only way I possibly could have dealt with the weirdness of the whole fucking deal. As near as I can figure, it was all done for the benefit of my stepmother's family, although oddly enough in the years since his passing she's converted to Buddhism, and as such we have a lot more to talk about.
I know that I have dear friends here who would post "What happened to pinboy?" threads if I were to be absent for a while. My friends here would deserve an answer and a conclusion.
Whatever happens, you know that I love you all and the admins of the best dem site on the net. If I should change my mind about that, I'll let you know, lol. Until then, you know that you will all have my utmost respect and appreciation and love. And that will be my feeling when I go out. 
I'm older than you and know that my time will likely come before yours. I'm OK with that, knowing that you and other good-hearted folks will carry on. In your case, especially in the struggle for civil and human rights.
Hell, after my war experience I never expected to live to see 30. When you see so many people die so young, that affects your outlook. Yet I'm somehow still here, why I don't know. Maybe to see the malaise posts on DU.
literally fell on his face stone cold dead at a reggae festival. He would have been 60 in August.
My mother's only brother survived WW2 but died in a motor cycle accident in London a few years after the war. Death is a funny thing in terms of who goes first and how we go.
I'm glad you survived that hell called the Vietnam War. It killed way too many and destroyed even more.
Love you back bro - have a great day.
We expected that we'd go first, in order. Losing our kid brother first was a real blow. Both of us would have gladly traded places to allow Jim to survive.
Jim's death was the first time I ever heard my older brother, the former Marine, cry. We're still feeling that blow.
R.I.P. Jim, and all of our absent friends. 
Sorry for your guys' loss.
You won't die until DU says you're released from active duty.
So, there! LOL!
But I doubt our admins, as all-powerful as they are, will have a say in the matter.
carry enough weight to convince even the cosmic PTB that YOU CANNOT LEAVE! A DU POLL is omnipotent!
couldn't resist.
Posted by sarge43 in another thread...
"Why are you dodging this? They couldn't hit an elephant at this distance." A couple beats later they missed the elephant, but got the general.
http://www.democraticunderground.com/?com=view_post&forum=1002&pid=7190204
