That way, I could die with dignity. Let’s see: I could always willingly accept death, somehow, in my efforts to defend an endangered species, or to advance thinking in the field of Sub-Saharan-African gastronomy, or while filming a documentary about stingrays (RIP, Steve). See, I’m trying to dream up something unique here, something new; I’m trying to really think about this. I mean, I could do the religion thing, but that just seems overdone, overworked, almost cliché. Besides, I would never be able to live up the hype of being a saint.
I could die for my fellow nihilists, but I don’t think they’d really care.
I could die for my longstanding support of homeopathy and herbal remedies, but I rather not have to suffer in the onset of something excruciating.
I could die for “FREEDOMMMMMMMM,” but that’s been done in movies.
I could die for my country, but I don’t think it would really care.
Hey! Wait! I could always die for science! I could donate by body to research, or my organs to people who need them, just like you, dad, just like it says on your driver’s license! But oh, right, I’m not old enough to drive.
There has to be something out there, something special, an opportunity for me to make my mark in the history of martyrdom. Will they write books about me? Erect a statue in my hometown? Interview the wife and two children I’ll leave behind? Maybe my family will be interviewed by all the talk shows; hopefully they’ll make it onto the ten-o-clock news.
I could die of old age, but that’s not really martyrdom, is it? I guess I can settle for being a stockbroker, or an insurance agent, or even a lawyer. Really, what’s the difference?
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