Open letter to the person who has a headstone in the shape of a computer:
I am sorry you're dead. Let's make that clear. But I have a huge problem with the PC headstone on your grave.
Perhaps it was a family member or friend who chose that headstone, but let's be honest. There's no way you had real friends if you loved the computer so much, and your family probably gave up years ago. So let's assume you chose that yourself. That's another problem.
Who chooses their headstone in advance? It's like those creepy commercials that air during "The People's Court" at one in the afternoon where old people talk about how "they know they're going to die so why not plan it now" kind of a thing. Creepy. Computer nerds are disturbing enough on their own; no need to forever proclaim your dedication to technology through your gravestone choice. I don't even want to guess what your will says. To whom you left your many harddrives and mice, your ergenomic chair pads, your webcams and special split keyboards. Ugh, I'm shuttering thinking about it. I feel bad for the person who realized you'd passed; since who else would know of your absence than your online WoW pals?
The only person who's grave could be a PC is Bill Gates, and he's so rich he'll never die so that's not ever going to be an issue. He'll probably just be turned into a robot. Some horrible, awesome PC robot who then shuts down when a virus corrupts his whole robot heart harddrive. But what do I know; I'm not a soothsayer, I'm a blogger. And I can't accept that headstone.
Why am I even writing this? You're dead.
[pic via Unreality Mag]