Death, Taxes, and Blogging

I've been turning over a rather morbid thought in my head for a few weeks.

Some people blog. All people die.

It must be the case that some people that will die have blogged.

So what happens then?

It is not uncommon for a blog to be abandoned; left on the doorstep of the World Wide Web while it's creator rings the doorbell and then ambles off nonchalantly.

Most are never heard from again. Well, except for Brian H., he came back.

If someone were to die, the readers may never know. "Oh, so-and-so hasn't blogged since he/she mentioned that he/she was going skydiving/mountain climbing/turning 21."

Some time ago, Blogger announced that it is now possible to pre-date a post that will then be published in the future. Sort of preemptive blogging. You'd be able to write a post wishing someone a happy birthday, for instance, and then have it automatically post the day of.

I read about this, and a few flakes of rust tumbled down as the gears in my head began to turn.

In theory, I could pre-blog a final post that would publish itself after I die. All I would have to do is write it, set it to post at the first of the month, and then forget about it. Of course, in the event that I make it to the end of the month, I would then change the post date to the first of the next month. And so on, and so on, and so on, until I die.

Or completely forget about the damn thing and be stupefied/mortified/horrified/embarrassed when all the stuff I wrote that was never meant to be heard until I was dead appears when I load up my blog on the 1st.

But that's a risk I think I'm willing to take.

I don't often get to say this, but the worst thing that could possibly happen in that scenario is that I don't die.

I doubt it will be an legally binding contract or anything, but if I decide that I want my body to be used in some sort of grand practical joke, you all had better do it. Come on, how often will you get the chance to prop me up in a booth at McDonald's, place a half-eaten burger in front of me, and then run off to a safe distance to watch the hilarity that will ensue?!

Or, put me in the trunk of the car that belongs to that co-worker you hate and then the let all the air out of one of the tires. When they go to the trunk for the spare tire, be sure to have a camera to capture their look of horror. (You get first dibs on that one, Andrew S.)

Oh, and everyone is going to get ridiculously trashed at my wake. I want everyone to wake up the next day with a hangover so bad that they actually envy me.

Maybe that's a bad idea, come to think of it.

Wait until I'm buried before you all break out the alcohol.

When I say that I'll be cold in my grave before I'm the only person not drinking, I absolutely fucking mean it.