We remain fascinated with our own brains – and perhaps equally fascinated with our demise.
“And we wonder how it will feel.” – Karla Bonoff
I recall being somewhat traumatized as a child by reading about people buried alive in prior centuries. True or not ( likely not), the belief became so widespread that some people were buried with a line of string leading to a bell attached to the tombstone. If you heard ringing, get a shovel and some help! Truth be told, this is from my childhood understanding, the entire meme could be apocryphal. However, it was enough for me to decide, before puberty set in – that I would be cremated when the time comes. That is still my wish, for much the same reason. (One lesson: If your kids are reading, it doesn’t mean they’re ingesting wholesome entertainment.)
Another belief, or at least speculation, involved how long the beheaded head remained aware following its rude separation from the body. The idea that one would be aware of the executioner’s blade as one stared into wicker for three seconds or so also remained with me. This fate cannot be mitigated by planning, as with cremation, so I’ve instead lived a life that cannot be confused with that of the French aristocracy.
We will always ponder the chemically-infused electro-goo that houses “us,” and we will always ponder what happens when that goo ceases to pulse.
And so I always click on URLs like the one above. And hug my grandchildren, trying to shake all the damned visuals.