#Deaths (Obituaries)

[deathbydyingpod]

[copperbadge]

I work for a nonprofit that deals in terminal diseases, so I google a lot of obituaries, and obituaries are an insane part of the virtual world and the weird panopticon in which we’ve found ourselves. I’m not even counting the obits with autoplay midi files when you load the page, like some kind of morbid MySpace. 

Say I’m looking for the obituary of someone we know has passed, call him Joe Weston, that’s a relatively common name. If I google his name plus the disease we know he passed from, I’ll generally find any obituary that exists for him with relative speed. 

But if I just google his name and “obituary”, Google tends to show me obits in a virtual geographic plotting -- it starts with obits of people with that name who are closest to the location where Google thinks I am, and radiates outwards from there. So unless it’s a famous person, if Google senses via my IP address that I’m in Chicago, it starts with obits in Chicago, then gives me obituaries in the burbs, then Illinois and Wisconsin, then Michigan, and so forth. I almost never search just the name and “obituary”, so I only noticed this because my work’s VPN is located on the east coast and if I’m on the VPN it starts my treasure hunt in Connecticut. 

What I’m saying is that I, a researcher in death, am surrounded by ghosts, and Google knows where they are. 

[doppel-dean-er]

you have no idea how much tweaking it took for this drawing not to look like a frail elderly woman

(@subhuman-and-feedable)

[tsubaki94]

Wctober 16

Revenant/ Death Echo

[lifeinpoetry]

i write my dead name in my father’s obituary. i don’t even think about it.

my dead name doesn’t feel like such a dead name while i’m standing next to my dad’s corpse.

i don’t feel bad about writing my dead name in my dead dad’s obituary. what does it matter which name my dad used to call me when he can’t call me anything anymore.

in this moment, i don’t give a fuck about what my gender is or isn’t. what people think it is or isn’t.

there are some things that are alive, and i am one of them.

and there are some things that are dead.

— Ollie Schminkey, from "i write my dead name in my father’s obituary," Dead Dad Jokes

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Tampa Cable TV, Florida 1988. (The first part with the short interview footage is from 1990/91

[stubberudsgirl]

John Tardy of Obituary

[thrashunderpressure]

Bootleg death metal cassettes

[aeternae--tenebrae]

Obituary - cause of death

[slyandthefamilybook]

"i need to know why she's gone" I'm losing my mind

[deathbydyingpod]

My Spotify Wrapped is just Danse Macabre on loop for 25,000 minutes

[copperbadge]

Spending as much time as I do with obituaries really does get kind of bonkers. I was reflecting the other day that it’s not as depressing as one would think, because while they are all death announcements, they’re usually about what a happy and fulfilled life the person led. It’s not like you see many that talk about what a cranky, friendless asshole someone was. 

I read one the other day where the deceased had a passion for Dr. Pepper, and his last request, which was fulfilled, was to sit on his porch and have one final Dr. Pepper. That’s pretty delightful! And I’m always reading about people who loved cookouts and going to their kids’ ballgames and caring for their grandchildren and working at the community center. 

More and more, too, you see same-sex partners mentioned in ways you formerly really only saw with het couples. I’ve noticed it especially in the last two years, there are so many more than there used to be of “Her beloved wife and best friend” and “His husband of forty years”. 

But also, even getting inured to the grief that bleeds through them, you do occasionally get caught in the ribs by one. Today’s was “The youngest of five, she is survived by three brothers and a sister”. The obits I read are usually for people who have passed from a terminal illness that generally doesn’t hit until you’re over fifty, but it’s a short life expectancy once diagnosed, and often their siblings, and sometimes their parents, outlive them. That’s always rough.

I dunno, I wasn’t really working up to a point so concluding this NOT on the “wow that obit was sad” note is difficult, it’s just all grist for the mill. Death is perplexing but life comes in infinite variety.   

[escapingpurgatory]

Obituary

[kat-and-their-cats]

I've seen posts like who would win Jon 'the Archivist' Sims, Cecil Palmer or the Obituary Writer but here's the real question which cat would win The Admiral, Khoshekh or the Obituary Writer's three man-eating cats.

Also which cat is the cutest/fluffiest.

[guerrilla-operator]

OBITUARY