Census Are you afraid of death?

I'm not nearly so scared of my death as the pain that could very likely precede it.

 

No.... although I have a huge fear of having never really lived.

 

I fear the universe's death.

 

The universe has it coming and you know it

 

Just build one of these

 

Do you guys really want me to go on a long analysis of my feelings about death again? Because I can, easily. I would enjoy it, even, because I enjoy talking about it. But I don't know if you would.

Most of you already know about my extensive feelings on the subject anyway. And I know all of you who know me at least a certain amount will already know what answer I selected.

 

ZAP LETO II, THE WORM THAT WALKS

I think it sucks. I mean, we get something called life that is completely awesome (considering also we won the cosmic lotto and have been born in the first world), and also the awareness that it's going to end in the near future, no matter what we do. No wonder people have chosen to believe in flying bearded men that will take your anima to some galactic Disneyworld for all eternity.

So it's not a crippling fear, but from time to time I think about it and I of course don't like the idea at all.

 

Spend too much time thinking about death and you might find you're wasting your life

 

Also, I'm surprised. I figured Arlon would have posted a photo of Davey Jones from Pirates of the Caribbean by now.

 

I'm afraid of people I love dying--very afraid, after a couple close calls--and I'm afraid of being in pain before my death, but I'm not afraid of what comes after.

That being said, I don't particularly have anyone depending on me. After I have kids, I might be more afraid, but I think it would be more for what would happen to them if they're young.

 

Honestly? Not really.

 

D'ye feehruh death? That dahk abyss. Alye deeds lay bareruh, alye sins punish-duh?

 

I'll take muh chances sah.

 

What are you doing? You're not Arlon. You've upset the established order!

 

I ain't afraid of nothing.

Except spiders.

And fat people in booty shorts.

 

I have no reason to fear death, because I am a Christian.

 

No. I'm afraid it might hurt, though - but I'm afraid of any pain, so go figure. And I hope I will be ready and prepared when my time comes.

 

In Austria, my 90-year-old uncle (in law) just had a heart attack. He had quintuple bypass surgery seventeen years ago, which gave him an incredible extension of really high quality life. He was a hunter, and he dragged dead deer through the mountain woods on his jury-rigged heart well into his 80s. This time around, he was chatty and in good spirits when the doctors put him under so they could install a stent. The surgeons quickly realized that his heart was too damaged for the stent. His family was called in to decide whether it made sense to bring him out of the induced coma just to tell him he was finished. Tough call, right? "Wake up, we need to tell you something. You're about to die."

This is a pretty fundamental question I sometimes ask myself. If I could choose, would I prefer a bullet in the back of the head from an unseen assailant without any prior knowledge that death was coming or any sensation of it actually happening, or would I want to know that I was dying and have an opportunity to say farewell to loved ones and prepare myself mentally (despite the complete irrelevance of mental preparation).

The people left behind have a harder time perhaps with the sudden, unexpected death. The die-er on the other hand has little or no perception of anxiety or fear or pain when death sneaks up from behind.

Almost everyone who remembers 9/11 has thought about what it must have been like for the people trapped in the WTC above the fires. They had an hour, tops, to come to terms with an unavoidable and immediate death. It didn't matter one bit to the universe whether they did or didn't come to terms with dying, of course, but I hope that at least some of them were able to reduce their fear through concerted mental effort or deny its approach with enough plausibility until the very last second of collapse.

 

It's an interesting question. When I was younger, single, and childless I probably would have preferred the first option. Now that I'm married and have two kids, I would prefer the second scenario, even though it might suck more for me. I would want to be able to say goodbye to them, both for my own peace and as you say for their benefit too.

When my grandfather died, my daughter (now two and a half years old) was just three months old. We knew he was declining, and he hadn't seen her yet. When we got the call that they expected the end to be within 48 hours, we drove all night to be with him. We did this for all of us, of course, but it was even more special because he got to meet her before he passed (he was still "there" mentally). The day they met was the same day he died; that is still huge for me. My son (now five) had been able to spend time with him twice before that.

 

"I'm not. No, I'm not."

 

Only because you we're born into a Christian family or had Christian influences growing up. Why should geography have any effect on whether you get into heaven or not?

 

Because Christianity is right?

 

How is that even an answer?