Q: What is your preferred method of suicide? (if you were to actually
find a reason to do such.)

FTFOI@aol.com:
Suicide...hum...I'd want to go fast, minimal agony/effort. Probably some strange mix of drugs just before the sleeping pills kick in...I want to go in my sleep if I go at all.

CBreakr@aol.com:
hmmm....I'm going to go with the typical male fantasy suicide...dying of dehydration while being raped and sodomized by about 30 women at once...it may sound impossible (and it probably is) but I am determined to find a way.

Nikki Tyr@aol.com:
Death by the orgasm-gun.

TommyB80@aol.com:
I would jump from an airplane with my body covered in nothing but goggles so that my eyeballs wouldn't freeze. It's my last moments of life, so why not get a big rush?

mikelam@acsu.buffalo.edu (Michael Lam):
Airplane disaster... a huge midair collision... if i'm gonna kill myself, I'm gonna at least bring 200 others with me!!!

develin@fas.harvard.edu (Michael Lee Develin):
I would go parachuting or skydiving or some such sport and jump out without a parachute. I think free fall would be the most wonderful experience in the world, and the death would be rather quick and painless. In fact, I would jump out of a plane now if I didn't think I was going to die. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity (literally.)

Dark Glory@aol.com:
I'd like to dismember myself. See, I'd rig the dismemberer-uhh...thing, so as I can operate it with my teeth, so I only need to bite on something, or pull a rope with my teeth, and the dismembering-thing would uhh...comence with the dismembering. Then, I'd like to have my one of my four limbs sent to the presidents of France, Germany, Mexico, and Italy, and the rest of me sent to the president of the United States, where they would all have to eat my parts at gun-point!

Vibe526@aol.com:
Something painless, but effective. Something that makes you sleep but never wake up. Oh come on, who hasn't contimplated suicide? If you're denying it, then you're a hypocrite.

Okay, I'll answer this now while I'm unconscious anyway. I wanna jump.
Preferably from a tall buliding, out a window. Why? It just looks cool and someone has to clean me off the sidewalk. Hopefully I'll leave a mark. Maybe even crack the cement. I now note that I would be stoned out of my mind at the time.

Q: ...preferred method of burial/bodily disposal?

TommyB80@aol.com:
Who cares? Store me in a cryo-freezer so that I could come back someday, but if I desired suicide, I wouldn't be too keen on that. Stuff my body stuffed and put it on public display. :P

CBreakr@aol.com:
I wanna be like Lenin!!! My own little plastic home for the afterlife.

MeTmbg25@aol.com:
I'd be buried in one of those house things, just in case i could ever be raised fro the dead, my body would still be there, then i'd just open a door and walk away.

FTFOI@aol.com:
Jus' throw me in a box (coffin) and lump me in tha ground (cementary, preferably).

Vibe526@aol.com:
Simple death, Simple burial. Family, friends, others who gave a damn or remembered me. I wouldn't want anything big. Why? I dunno, save my family money. We're broke enough as it is. LOL

Nikki Tyr@aol.com:
I want my friends and loved ones to grok me in my fullness.

mikelam@acsu.buffalo.edu (Michael Lam):
I wanna be vacuum dessicated....

develin@fas.harvard.edu (Michael Lee Develin):
I choose not to answer. If I'm dead, I'm dead. Let the people whom this might actually affect decide.

What's gonna be left of me to bury? I'd be better off cremated. But then my kids (if any) would have to keep my ashes on their mantle, and my grandkids would probably play with my remains. Whee.

David Gold prepared a very... wordy response, which I'll print in it's entirety, mainly 'cause I don't like to be the bad guy who has to edit for content.

(Krissy: Sorry about the length, but when the muse is naked, you have to either fuck her or regret it later.)

How would I kill myself? Well, to begin with, the suicide has to be so incredibly public and grotesque, so that thousands of people will marvel for years.

You see, there are two kinds of suicides: the people who are just so tired of life that they can't think of anything else but dying, and there's the people who are so disgusted with the general state of the world that they want their death to make a statement. If you're of the first type, then you might as well do something stupidly unoriginal like overdose on sleeping pills, because you don't even care how you die, so long as you're dead.

I am not inclined to suicide currently, but I'm assuming that you want the answer coming from the second perspective, because the first would make for a fucking boring survey.

OK, you'd want something that was incredibly graphic and memorable, but caused immediate death. If you did something like jump into an acid vat, the intense pain might cause you to lose your nerve and choose life. So anything involving carnivorous animals, slow dipping into magma, or a razor sharp blade that slices your genitalia off in millimeter-thin slices is out for a start.

Media coverage is a necessity. Nothing compares to the feeling of intense satisfaction of knowing that millions of total strangers are getting their primetime shows pre-empted because of you. Arrange your suicides so that they occur where news vans and broadcasting equipment are already arrayed. I suggest the Academy Awards, a Presidential press conference, or for bonus points, the convocation at a prestigious university. (The last may not have news vans, but you can bet your ass every student will remember it until they themselves are rotting corpses.)

The second crucial element is some catch phrase, which shall be your parting shot at the world. If you already subscribe to any political, religious, or social ideology, immediately swing to the ideology's most radical perspective. Communism, democracy, monarchism, environmentalism, Christianity... any of these provide perfectly good reasons to off yourself. If you have no ideology, make one up! Or better yet, revive some long-dead ideology that everyone has forgotten about, like Celtic tree-worshipping, the Ptolemaic model of the universe, or being a Chicago Cubs fan. (Note: Contrary to popular belief, celestial events such as comets, eclipses or syzygies are not excuses for suicide. They are excuses for serial killing.)

Finally, your method of self-nullification has to be swift, gory, and complex, so that the ugly and useless lowbrows you're trying to insult will never fully comprehend you. I recommend an elaborate machine, preferably something that includes a countdown to zero. Saying you're ready to drink a vial of cyanide sulfate is not nearly as jarring to the average Joe as saying you have a Stinger missile primed to launch up your anus.

Combining these three elements, I have settled on a suicide method. I would tamper with the platform that the talentless A-hole of the year sings on top of during the half-time of the Super Bowl. At my command, plastic explosives would detonate on top, hurtling performers into the stands. This would immediately have consequences. The thrice-damned marching bands would cease immediately, flying shrapnel at high temperatures could conceivably strike a passing Goodyear blimp and send it crashing to the earth, and whatever station is airing the game would immediately stop all their advertisements and keep their cameras focused on me. This is especially gratifying, when you consider that a 30 second commercial during the Super Bowl can cost over a quarter of a million dollars. In boardrooms all across the world, advertising execs would gnash their teeth and pull their hair about the lost dollars. Also, I would shape the charges so that both cheerleading squads are immediately killed in the blast. (This is merely an added perk, because the Vikings believed that when you die, those that you have killed await you in the afterlife to be your servants for eternity... heh heh...)

After the smoke had cleared, my machine and I would rise from the hole in the platform. From a radical grass roots ideology, I would tell the crowd that I was so disgusted with the blight of corruption that has eroded the ideal of the pure democracy that I saw no recourse but to make a statement with my death. The machine would have a bed, and suspended above the bed would be a rack of enormous steel spikes. I would lay down in the bed, and explain that the spikes will descend, crushing my life in a bloody, squishy instant, if anyone approaches the platform, or if the applause from the crowd reaches a certain threshold. Unbeknownst to the unwashed masses, who would clap immediately in the hope of seeing some violence, this feature would merely point out how morally decrepit and basically sinful the general populace of humanity truly are, and they would be laden with guilt and shame for the rest of their natural lives. When the spikes descend, and my perforated body has stopped quivering, there will be a ten second pause, during which I expect the crowd to stare in stunned silence. Then the larger bombs, planted in key areas in the stadium, will explode, killing about 3/4 of the spectators, leaving just enough shell-shocked survivors to ensure that the incident will be discussed for years.

As for body disposal, my head and genitals would be donated to the Smithsonian, where they would rest in a glass case surrounded by the leather jacket from Happy Days' Fonzie. They would survive the suicide because of certain areas of the descending platform would lack spikes in key areas. The rest of my body would be cremated, and the President would be forced to strip naked, and, in full view of the public, both consume my ashes, rub his entire body with them, and clean out his rectal, penile and nasal crevices with them in a metaphor of social justice.

Krissy, I really hope you managed to fit all this in. If any of you impressionable young'uns decides to implement the advice, be sure to shout "David Gold is Christ reborn!" before the final moment. Thank you, and good night!