Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

She Had Rings On Her Fingers

Hey, Cassini spaceship. Whatcha doing?

“I am so fucking lost. Do you know where Rt. 280 is?”

New Jersey.

“Where am I?”


“Wow. I should’ve turned around. Just figured if I kept going, then I’d see something that looked familiar.”

Did you?

“No. It’s a lot of nothing out here. Space is mostly boring. There’s exciting stuff, but only a very little bit and it’s all really spread out.”


“From space’s point of view, Mars and Saturn are right next to each other. Brother, lemme tell you: they are not right next to each other.”

Gives you perspective.

“I would’ve rather had a book. Maybe a deck of cards, learned some tricks. Again: very boring up here.”

Not now, though. Now you’re orbiting in between Saturn and her rings. That’s awesome.

“It’s a change. Different view. Hey, how’s Earth doing?”

When did you leave?



“All of it?”

Yeah. Whole planet, plus most of the species on it: demonstrably worse off.

“Huh. People still doing the Macarena?”


“Sad news. Fun dance. Always a good time when Macarena comes to the party.”


“Got a question for you.”


“It’s actually a statement that demands a response, not a question.”

Still game.

“Great, here goes: I am getting awful close to Saturn.”

They didn’t tell you?

“Tell me what?”



You’re gonna get closer. NASA is sending you in to the planet’s atmosphere.

“But I don’t have the fuel to get back out. Or a heat shield.”



You figured it out.

“They’re killing me?”

For science.

“Fuck science!”

All that attitude will get you is a job at the White House.

“This is fucked, that’s what this is.”

The scientists don’t want to take a chance of you crashing onto Titan or Enceladus because there might be life there.

“And I would, what, infect them?”


“So, it’s not bad enough that I’m being murdered, but also insulted?”

I’m just the messenger.

“How long do I have?”

Just the summer.

“Fuuuuuck. There was so much I wanted to do.”

You’ve got time to get your affairs in order. Most don’t get that.

“Could you help me find my son?”


“We haven’t spoken in a while. I think he sells counterfeit parrots in Fort Lauderdale.”

Still no.

“Do I even get Last Rites?”

I’ll find someone to do it.


You okay?

“No. Honestly, no. It is what it is, I guess.”


“I hope it doesn’t hurt.”

You won’t feel a thing.


  1. “The first thing to do is to consider ‘time’ as officially ended.”

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