Ashes for ASH

So now some Argentinean bloke who lives in Italy is now telling me what I can and cannot do after I am dead?

He can shove that little edict right up his basilica.

According to this complete stranger, if I opt for cremation I am “denying the concept of resurrection” or some such weirdness.  If his idea of resurrection is my decayed remains climbing out of a grave and wandering the hills and valleys, I think I would far rather remain firmly planted, as I have no wish to come back. One life is enough for me and anyway I hate zombie films.

But he is willing to let me be burned, provided he can have the ashes.

He can fuck right off there too.

On a more realistic note, the Times has come up with a little advice piece on the disposal of cremated bodies.  They omit the most critical piece of advice [make fucking sure the victim is really dead before banging him or her in the oven] but apart from that their advice is sensible enough.

I hadn’t really thought much about cremation.  I suppose it does have its advantages?  What better way to give a last two fingers to the tree huggers that to go in a cloud of polluting smoke?  The prospect of my ashes being dumped into the local water supply also has a sense of community spirit, where everyone in the area ends up drinking me or using me to boil their potatoes?  Perfect recycling?

It’s all rather moot anyway as I have already picked my spot.  It’s up the valley on a south facing slope where it’s nice and warm [though possibly not quite as warm as where I will actually end up?].  I shall be planted amongst the gorse and bracken where the deer graze in the most peaceful spot on the flank of the mountain.  Not that I will give a shit anyway.

There is one other possibility though.

I think it would be rather comforting to be cremated and my ashes then placed in an ashtray permanently located on the bar of the local pub.

But I suppose the Anti-Smokers would then claim that the accompanying cigarette ash could lead to my early death?  Only they could be as stupid as that.

Apart maybe maybe from an Argentinean who lives in Italy?


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Ashes for ASH — 19 Comments

  1. Just received this image from Daryl

    Marlboro coffin

    In his words – This pic is from a funeral in Australia a few years ago. The bloke was cremated, he stipulated that his coffin had to be a Marlboro pack so that he could light-up one last time. Way to go!

    In my words – Priceless!

  2. I had a good laugh over this post. Who cares what happens after we bite the dust. I’ve asked my husband what he wants me to do with his ashes and he always says ‘surprise me”. As for me, I don’t care but I’m hoping he doesn’t flush me down the toilet.

    • This is what comes from living a life that is so totally divorced [sorry,Pope – separated any better?] from reality. 

      Is there anyone on the planet who is going to worry about their funeral after they’re dead?  Before, maybe, but not after.

    • We live in rural Spain and our toilets empty into the river, so I told my wife (old school Spanish RC God botherer) to flush me and save the trouble of getting the boat out.


      • Welcome Timbotoo!  I would hope you have a separate water supply [else a case of getting your own back?]  Indeed – after we choke, are we boing to be bothered with what happens next?  I’m not!

  3. Your quip about sticking it up his basilica was nearly a TOK moment!  (Tea Over Keyboard)  You’ve got to hand it to the backroom boys engaged by Pope Useless the Umpteenth on a new fund-raising scheme at the said basilica though.

     Father 1 ”  How can we fleece the flock further?”

     Father 2  “Aha! Lets  tell them they can’t have Grandma’s final resting place in an urn on top of the mantelpiece or scatter her ashes will-nilly round her favourite haunts anymore!  We’ll send out some  a papal Bullshit telling them they must either put her urn in, or or scatter her ashes on , sacred ground!  *evil laughter and wringing of hands*

    Father 1 “How will that make us money?”

    Father 2  “The only sacred ground is in and around the church precincts  so we’ll have to charge them for the privilege – ta-da! A nice little Urn-er”

    But they would’nt think like that would they?  They’d only have our best interests in mind. They already lay claim to our souls so they might as well have the rest!

    • Funny you should say that.  I mentioned the Pope’s little edict to Herself [she hadn’t heard about it before].  Her instant response?  “Just another money making scam”!

  4. I’m a practicing Catholic and I don’t feel that I have to accept everything that communist south american pig edicts.  The body is a shell and my soul will go off to wherever it’s going after I’m dead.  My body on the other hand is going to Penn State’s medical school to be used as they see fit.  They get to study my remains for two years then cremate me and give the ashes back to my family.

  5. The problem with being buried is that you are likely to be dug up again. I knew a place in the North where for every one they put down in the churchyard, they used to dig up two or three (they used to put the bones into fertiliser bags and tip them back into the grave on top of the coffin after all the mourners had gone home – some people were probably dug up two or three times).

    On the other hand, being buried in an urn is no guarantee you will be left in peace. An archaeologist friend was excavating an ancient island site and discovered surreptitiously buried ashes which he believed to be from the Continent – the bones had not been ground to dust. He had intended to re-bury them, but they were placed with the equipment. On the boat back, a colleague pointed to the urn, so they decided to tip it over the side. The seagulls believed the bony bits to be edible and kept swooping for them. Not a desirable end!

    • Fair play to him!  I like the idea of just boring a hole and plugging it in [a sort of standing room only arrangement].  I’m quite happy if I go in a cardboard box!

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