Posts Tagged ‘brief’

A Brief History of My Cremation

Let it be known that when I become irretrievably incapacitated, or worse, unable to operate my iPhone, I choose to be euthanized and then cremated – in that order. I don’t want any surprise cremation until I’m good and flatlined. And this is not some morbid fascination with the great beyond. It’s all part of a grand strategy where I come out the other side of my death bigger, better and more magnificent than when I went in. My unorthodox plan for my cremation could become very popular and might suggest a societal trend. Then again it might suggest I’m a lunatic. It’s not a question for me to decide. I’ll leave that to my court-appointed conservator to resolve. In any event, I bequeath to posterity my cremation plan for a post-David life. And if posterity refuses my plan, I’ll bestow it upon a more ambitious and can-do heir capable of executing my wishes – listening Bezos or Musk.  


Hawking’s cremains in hallowed Westminster Abbey

Revered astrophysicist Sir Stephen Hawking’s ashes are buried in Westminster Abbey between Isaac Newton’s body at rest and Charles Darwin’s non-evolving corpse. When you’re a genius it’s easy to keep good company. I don’t fit the genius category (except when it comes to my knowledge of Hogan’s Heroes) so for my final resting place I resolved to have my unknighted ashes scattered to the wind and leave it at that.




Quite the triumvirate

But Sir Stephen Hawking’s genius gave me another idea on how to venerate and perhaps even invigorate my lifeless ashes. Instead of having them strewn piously in some verdant meadow or scattered ceremoniously into one of our fine, welcoming oceans, I’d have my ashes compressed into an infinite singularity. An infinite singularity –  like the mighty primordial singularity from which the Big Bang boomed and all of creation sprang forth. Sir Stephen discusses infinite singularities in his monumental work A Brief History of Time. He describes this infinite singularity with unclouded professorial surety, but also in a manner that is completely impenetrable: “In the moment before the Big Bang, the universe is thought to have had zero size and so to have been infinitely hot.” Huh?


Now I don’t know what any of that means, or why one would follow the other – that is, why would a zero size universe (whatever that is) should be infinitely hot. But I’ll take it on faith that Mr. Hawking is on to something Big. Really Big. Amazon Prime big. So hitching the success of my afterlife to Sir Stephen’s luminous star seems like a good bet. More specifically, combining my quantum calculus with Sir Stephen’s theories, I believe that if my carboniferous ashes were compressed into an infinite singularity, my cremains would achieve Hawking’s vaunted “zero size and infinite heat.”


And don’t think this is some pie-in-the-sky idea. It’s more of a pi in the circumference idea I’ve thought through very carefully. The plan is to have my cremains launched toward each other at the speed of light in the 17 mile circumference loop of the LHC (Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland). The result of this collision would be the hyper-concentration of my cremains into an infinite singularity and would set the stage for a 2nd Big Bang. A 2nd Big Bang based on my cremains, whereby I might become the universe and permeate this new Davidverse with the unmistakable tang of my being. This isn’t about notions of legacy or immortality. It’s about us God sparklers retaking our rightful place in the Cosmos. Not just for me, but for everyone.


This new Davidverse would be a divine and accessible place where everyone would be cleansed by meteor showers. Where we wouldn’t need Intimacy Coordinators because we’d know just what to touch and when to touch it. Where never was heard a discouraging word and the skies were not cloudy all day. In this less formal Daveverse; napkin rings, finger bowls and grapefruit spoons would be optional. Other than to say, “Don’t play with matches,” you wouldn’t have to tip people any more. It would be a place where 2 additional hours of daylight would be available for busy people who complain, “There just aren’t enough hours in the day.” Guilt and depression will be so last week – so will 7 days ago. In this 2nd Big Bang universe, circumstances, predicaments and situations (which I believe are all about the same thing) will be replaced with a vitality of soul last seen when Bobby Sherman danced his way through an in-house milk commercial on Shindig. Bobby says not one word and exudes effortless energy drawn from some deep wellspring of joy we’d all do well to tap into.


I know. Becoming an infinite singularity is a Big Ask. Perhaps the biggest Ask ever. But what can I say? I’ve always been a big pain in the Ask.





Outtakes, Addenda and Bootleg Material from “A Brief History of My Cremation”

Now in the odd way I always have extra puzzle pieces leftover when I’m thru with a puzzle, I have extra material leftover from the above story A Brief History of My Creation. I’ll share this less cogent material with you below:

I don’t make the karmic laws, I just try to avoid them. 

Stephen Hawking’s son went into the underwear business and wrote a book called A Brief History of Briefs.

I’m sure in some parallel universe they’ll be a Stephen Hawking avatar who is an Astro-herbalist and writes a groundbreaking new book called A Brief History of Thyme.

Some people call it euthanasia because they want their suicide to feel more virtuous.

And don’t you find it odd that the pedestrian term “Big Bang” has been applied to something so mysteriously magnificent. I mean the transcendent ignition point to the universe – an event so ineffably awesome releasing untold energies and the beginning of time – and the best descriptive term scientists can apply to it is…”Well, it’s like a Big Bang.” One can only  imagine the Big Bang translated into other Languages:

    1. French: Le Grande Boom Boom
    2. Mexican: Habanero Supreme
    3. Ebonics: Boom Shaka Laka  
    4. Japanese: Boomzilla or Shibumi
    5. Esperanto:   Bam Bam Pebbles
    6. New Age: Cosmic Achoo
    7. Yiddish: Mazel Pop