When our lives draw to their inexorable close, we like to look back at what we've accomplished over the years. Some of us have amassed over 1,000 Twitter followers, others have been interviewed while drunk on television. Then there are those who've...
When our lives draw to their inexorable close, we like to look back at what we've accomplished over the years. Some of us have amassed over 1,000 Twitter followers, while others have been interviewed while drunk on television. Then there are those who've achieved nothing at all. But while you might have been terrible at life, there's always the opportunity to start fresh after death.
The first important part of your post-death legacy is how your body is dealt with. Would you be cryogenically frozen? Made into a diamond to be kept as a creepy family heirloom? Or, perhaps if you were showy and slightly obnoxious in life, be fired out of a cannon into the remnants of the Berlin Wall to have your remains forever immortalized in an important piece of history?
What do you want to happen to your body after you die?
Brett: I really wouldn't care what happens. Honestly, I'd be happy to be thrown into the sea.
The UK sea.
Aren't you worried about fish tearing your corpse apart?
I really wouldn't mind. I'd rather be back where I came from: the ocean. I'm quite happy to be fish food. It’s cheap and cheerful, and I eat plenty of fish. It would complete the circle.
Montana: That's a very strange question. I'd be dipped in gold, that way everyone could look at me forever.
Robin, curator: Fuck me. Jesus Christ. I didn't expect you to ask me that. I’d be rolled up and smoked, even though it's a clichéd one.
Who would you want to smoke you?
Tom Waits, if he's still around when I die.
On his own? You're a tall guy.
He could do it himself. He's smoked quite a few in his time.
Molly: Oh wow, that's really tricky. I definitely want a cremation. I'd get some sort of circus involved. It would be pagan, burned on a bonfire.
Where would you have this bonfire?
Probably at Glastonbury. I'd see if I could buy out Glastonbury before I died so I could have this big, pagan cremation.
All right, then. Thanks, Molly.
Previously - Are You Glad Margaret Thatcher Is Dead?