Can your whole life really amount to nothing?

Discussion in 'Et Cetera, Et Cetera' started by earllogjam, Sep 2, 2009.

  1. earllogjam

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    When they go to write your obituary will they have anything more to say than where you graduated from high school, some hobbies you had and who your survivors are? I read a lot of these and just wondered...
     
  2. D_Hyacinth Harrytwat

    D_Hyacinth Harrytwat Account Disabled

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    I wonder why 99% of obits aren't a little more prolific. Part of that must be because they're limited for space and each word costs money.

    I like the online obits. My family seems to use them a lot because we're all so spread out. There is a normal obit published online and then everyone can leave comments and memories. Some are pretty lame, like Hallmark condolences, but others can really stir up memories.
     
  3. invisibleman

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    Can your whole life really amount to nothing?

    If you are loved by people, they will be inspired to live like you have. They will appreciate you for who you were...and maybe become better people because of you and your life example.

    If you are hated by people, they will remember what an amazingly miserable asshole you were.


     
  4. TheRob

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    I'm pretty sure that my life will if I die any time soon
    I am working on that tho
     
  5. bigbull29

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    Every time a man dies in my hometown, the obituary reads "He loved hunting, fishing and Nascar." Makes it like we're all clones.
     
  6. B_Hung Jon

    B_Hung Jon New Member

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    Makes sense. Now I know why you have such reactionary views about religion.
     
  7. beretta8

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    I agree with Super_Crayon.....space is limited and each word costs a pretty penny...besides...how does one really capture the essence of a person in an obituary?....It happens sometimes....I just read one yesterday and no kidding I started to cry...It really made me think what this man was about...and his life ending so soon...33...in a traffic accident....but my point is the obituary was worded so as to really express who people thought he was and it came through to me clearly....
     
  8. B_cigarbabe

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    Yeah but yours Bull will read;
    He loved hunting, fishing, Nascar and had a big Bull peter!
    That I never got to use dammit!:tongue:
    C.B.:saevil:
     
  9. rob_just_rob

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    For most people, it's a near certainty.
     
  10. DiscoBoy

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    Depends on how you define 'nothing'.
     
  11. bigbull29

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    No, I have my own mind. I don't let others think for me.

    I have very little in common with American rednecks.:biggrin1:
     
  12. B_Nick8

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    It's completely and entirely up to you. It's your life and your impact in the lives of others will be measured by how they remember you. Obits aren't often reflective although the one we wrote for my step-father, who was the most brilliant and purest soul I ever knew, was.

    To paraphrase that great line from The Wizard of Oz: "We will be judged, not by how much we love, but by how much we are loved by others."
     
  13. Joll

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    I agree, your life can amount to a lot more than what appears in an Obituary. They way you affect other people is probably the most important part, and can have a lasting impact.
     
  14. eurotop40

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    Yes. One fact is for sure that our modern society is focused on the pursuit of one's own happiness. Relationships break up easily and most of the time is spent in finding a sexual partner etc. No surprise that our impact on other people's lives is decreased by giving less and less.
     
  15. Principessa

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    There is a plan-a-gram of sorts for obituaries. Keep in mind, they are written by loved ones who are still crying and reeling from grief while simultaneously trying to find the life insurance policy, a decent pic of the deceased, call all friends, family, and loved ones to notify them, placare and host neighbors who drop in, and in the case of my family fend off the vultures. e.g. cousins who flock to the deceaseds home to take the things they like. :mad:


    BINGO!


    I like the online obits. My family seems to use them a lot because we're all so spread out. There is a normal obit published online and then everyone can leave comments and memories. Some are pretty lame, like Hallmark condolences, but others can really stir up memories.[/QUOTE] I like the online obits as well.

    So true!

    The obituary of a good friend of the family listed the usual stuff about his wife, children, grandkids, military career, postal career, but it also mentioned that he loved books. I thought that was a neat thing to include.:smile:
     
  16. bigbull29

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    I just use my hand these days -- less complicated and no broken hearts. I don't like using people, and I don't like being used. I'm not a piece of meat you can pick out at the supermarket. We've lost all sense of human dignity.

    Most marriages end up in divorce. All that money and all that time for what? I know so many couples who were recently married and now they're divorced.
     
  17. D_Harry_Crax

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    This is a one-dimensional answer. There also is the possibility of being respected, maybe because one does something important or necessary but unpopular. It's ideal to be loved and respected, but if I had to choose, I'd rather be respected than loved.
     
  18. Northland

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    It won't be a problem since I've already written up my obit. (It's always wise to plan ahead)

    Omar was brought into the world on a warm-well, let's be honest, a sweltering hot-late summer day in Sweptember 1950+9. His distant uncle through marriage was at the time, on the run for an assassination attempt and therefore unable to attend the sharing of the sacrificial bowl of pomegranates. Shortly thereafter, baby Omar was selected for transport to a distant land known only as Amkra. His mother had never learned English at the time and therefore was unable to pronounce the name of their soon to be homeland. Allah/Yahweh/Abba the Father/God/Zagnut, showed decency though and blessed young Omar and his family with a loving patriarch named Saddam (Omar learned years later this was not a name to be loved by all). Grandfather to 37 children-31 boys, 6 girls-Saddam was also the annoyed but loving father of the mother of Omar-the hero of our story.


    Grandfather Saddam accompanied the family to Amkra-also known as America or The United States. He did so because his daughter was his only daughter (he had several sons) and a female in those days was thought to be unable to function well without a man in the home.

    The Grandfather, his daughter and her children arrived in Amkra in the last days of 1900and50+9. They found haven with a sponsor family in a 3 bedroom apartment which they soon left in favor of a 3 room apartment. But, hey, at least the sponsor family was no longer deciding whether or not they could warm food on top of the television set.

    Grandfather Saddam (who changed his name to Mad Ass The Hatter at his employer's request), was soon employed by a milliner. The job ended after 3 years; at which point, Mad Ass took his skills to raising young Omar. Often telling him horror stories to get the troublesome lad to behave.


    On Sundays, Omar attended services and Sunday School classes at The Church of St.Paul and St Andrew. a Methodist concern, it had dark curtains in one of the hallways downstairs where Omar would sometimes place his shoes. Apparently Omar thought this was customary for prayer and besides which, he enjoyed skipping around barefoot.

    In 1873+92. (a.k.a.-1965) Omar began his formal education under the auspices of New York City. He was a less than stellar student; but, his teachers saw potential which they for some reason could not harness. Omar went on to win The Never Late To Class award at the end of grade 1.


    By the 1970s things had changed and our hero, Omar, had discovered he had a way with both perverted old men (in their 30s) and with females. The next thing he knew he had screwed a female student into pregnancy. It was then that Omar was told by his school advisor about the importance of tube wrap (condoms). The female did not have the baby and so Omar was spared the grimness of marriage. His family fled the boondocks and returned to the confines of the city where Omar continued sharing a blanket with his beloved grandfather.

    As 1977 came in, Omar selected a college located in the wilds of Wisconsin, where he would prove to be a satisfactory student, graduating after only 4 years. His joy in those days was riding a Greyhound bus back and forth from New York City to the wilds of Wisconsin.

    Eventually, the fates met and Omar got a job working for Greyhound. He was happy beyond words.


    In 2006 Omar contracted stomach cancer-which he named Giacomo, and eventually defeated the cancer. His health had other setbacks including a blockage which led to inability to walk for a time. He had by this time become a decent author, although not a best seller, he made a nice living off of it and was able to afford tasty crackers for his peanut butter. He had also left behind his ticket counter job with Greyhound and a brief stint in accounting.


    Omar lived in a simple abode for many years, with a lovely view of the sun rising in the east each sunlit morning (it tended not to show on rainy days).

    Omar leaves behind the mess of his apartment-rent stabilized:smile:, several pictures of Sean Connery (forged by Omar himself), vintage books from the 1920s and 30s, a photo of Omar, his grandfather and the cat they shared (before Emulsifier), when the grandfather in his last years moved into Omar's compact home. Omar also leaves his Judy Garland record collection and hundreds of wheat-back pennies, along with some rare Iraqi cash, not to mention his totally real photos of his landlords of the past Nick&Berniewho first helped young Omar realize his sexuality.

    Also up for sale as his family tries to realize profits over the untimely and unfortunate passing of Omar, are an HDTV set, a stereo system, a walnut dressing bureau constructed in the early 19th century, a hand crafted mirror, lamps and other lighting fixtures, 20 of those damned spirally energy efficient light bulbs, 3 cases of YooHoo chocolate drink, many books and magazines-including Life and Look magazines from the 50s, 60s and 70s, his first pair of eyeglasses, a motorcyle helmet, and a huge medical debt.

    In accordance with Omar's wishes, a nude memorial service will be held at Judson Memorial Church-or in Washington Square Park across the street from the church if the church refuses-on the second Saturday of the month after next. Food will be served before, during and afterwards. Instead of flowers, boxes of chocolate or potatoes, it is requested that donations be made to the charity of your choice and that you will your body to science.
    List of Body Donation Programs
     
  19. earllogjam

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    Omar, I thought I saw this exact same obit in the Village Voice, are you sure you don't ghost write obits?
     
  20. invisibleman

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    That is the difference between you and I. I know that it is difficult to gain respect. People are different. Think about this: Does everyone respect one part of you or all that you are? Do they respect you ALL the time or most of the time. OR not at all.

    Respect from another is a choice. People either give it to you while you are living or dead. Or they don't give you any respect at all.
     
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