Scripture 4: How to Die Like You Lived - Poorly Planned but Aesthetically Pleasing
They say death is the great equalizer. That’s a lie. Death is the final brand statement. The closing pitch. The last time people will pretend to care what you wanted.
6/6/2025
Death comes for us all. However, that doesn’t mean you can’t make it uncomfortable for everyone else. In a world obsessed with productivity, mindfulness, and dying with grace, this article offers the opposite. If you’re going to die, at least make it memorable.
Write a Will, but Make It Inconvenient
Everyone tells you to write a will. I agree. But not because it helps your loved ones or ensures your wishes are respected. No, write a will to create posthumous chaos. Your last opportunity to troll from beyond.
Leave your favourite mug to your most bitter ex-colleague.
Bequeath a single sock to your brother and nothing else.
Mention a mysterious safety deposit box but never explain what’s in it.
Make sure your executor is someone deeply unqualified, perhaps that one friend who once got confused between a bank and a bakery. Watching them navigate probate will be your final act of joy.
Choose Your Burial Wood Like a Pretentious Carpenter
Your coffin is your last real estate investment. Choose wisely. Mahogany is a classic, but predictable. Pine? Too Protestant.
Instead, consider the following options:
Black walnut, because it sounds haunted.
Driftwood, to confuse future archaeologists
Or just demand IKEA flat-pack wood and insist it be self-assembled graveside for full existential impact.
Bonus points if you include an Allen key in your pocket, just in case resurrection is DIY.
Avoid Cremation. We Don't Know if Ghosts Can Regenerate from Ashes
Cremation is too neat. Too final. Too… hot.
Besides, how are you supposed to return as a ghost if there’s nothing left to moan through? Ashes don’t rattle. You can’t slam a casket lid shut when your spirit’s angry if there’s no lid to slam. Ghosting people is a post-death privilege. Don’t throw that away.
Also, urns are just fancy dustbins. Fight me.
Write Your Epitaph with the Pettiness You Suppressed in Life
This is your final word. Make it bitter. Make it weird. Make it impossible to forget.
Some suggestions:
“I told you I was sick.”
“Left the group chat permanently.”
“Please don’t resurrect me unless you’ve sorted the economy.”
“Still better dressed than you.”
"Refrigerate after opening."
Etch these in marble. Bonus points if you request Comic Sans.
Death Planning Extras: Because Being Dead is No Excuse for Mediocrity
Funeral Playlist - Avoid “Ave Maria.” Instead, opt for the sound of slow, deliberate clapping.
Dress Code - Guests must wear all black, but only in different fabrics that audibly clash. Velvet, leather, sequins.
Eulogist - Choose someone awkwardly honest. Ideally someone you once ghosted but who inexplicably still likes you.
Exit Strategy - Rig your casket with a voice recording that says, “Hey, could someone let me out?” during the final lowering. Class is overrated.
People fear death because it ends everything. But I think of it as one final chance to deeply unsettle those around you. To confuse, amuse, and be vaguely remembered.
Write the will. Pick the wood. Etch something immortal in stone. And if you must be cremated, at least insist your ashes be placed in a snow globe.
And as your lawyer, I recommend putting that in writing.