No one can accuse me of being obsessed with my own mortality. Apart from everyone. I have always been fascinated by death. This afternoon when tidying up some of my old files and folders into boxes I found another stash of teenage poetry that I didn't know I had which is mostly about my certainty (or at least fear) that I will die before I have grown up, and more pertinently before I have had sex. I was wrong about that. I have now had sex almost three times and am still alive. It is peculiar to see a 14 year old writing about such a subject, though I suppose that's pretty normal. You spend your childhood wishing that you could grow up and get on with your life and the rest of your life wishing you were young again. If only I could travel back to that sex obsessed and frustrated idiot and tell him he'd make it to at least 43 I think he'd be satisfied with that. How ridiculously old that would be. When John Lennon died I think I commented in my diary that at least he was 40 and thus had lived to a ripe old age.
But my fascination and fear and I think if I am honest, my superstitious belief that if I predict my own death it can't actually happen (that theory has worked so far, but I feel it may fall down at some point - or by saying that am I just trying to ensure that it never does) continues into adulthood. And it is a fascinating subject because you never know when it might come or what it might entail and it's weird to think of just absenting yourself from everything and experiencing nothing any more. Or going to Heaven and seeing Jesus or an elf or whatever if up there.
But today I discovered on the internet that I can relax and enjoy myself, because my death is some way away. I filled in some details
on this website and discovered that I would die on February 13th 2048. Nice to have it so specific. And whilst it is annoying to discover I am going to miss Valentine's Day, on the plus side I am going to get to 80, which will give me plenty of time to do all the stuff I need to do. In fact I didn't bother doing any work today as a result, cos I've got ages. Which was a bit short-sighted as the deadlines for the last two Richard Herring's Objectives is not going to change. But still 37 years to go. I am only just over halfway through. Even if, in recent years, I have been a bit bedazzled by the rapid passage of time. That's still ages to go. Phew!
Unfortunately I didn't leave it at that. I was stupid enough to go for a second opinion and looked at
the Death Clock website, which told me that in fact I was going to die on July 15th 2039. I had just had seven and a half years of my life stolen from me. That's eight Edinburgh shows less (because yes, I will still be writing a new show every year even then). I decided not to check any other websites for fear that my day of judgement would get even closer. A few people on Twitter suggested that the very action of trying to check the date of your death, might take years off you life. You should not dabble in such things. Strangely dying in the 2030s and having less than 30 years to go makes death seem worryingly close, whilst lasting to nearly 2050 and being in my 80s seems distant still. So I hope the first website (which asks more questions) was right. But perhaps knowing life is more limited will encourage me to get on with things.
About 15 years ago I very briefly went out with someone (who would go on to be rather famous though she wasn't at the time) who believed that she would never die. I don't know what she was basing this on as she was a little bit sketchy on the details, but she seemed sincere about it. And so far she has been right about that. (I might be wrong, but I also seem to remember her saying that she didn't need to eat food either, though I may be wrong on that one).
There's a chance that some of you reading this, will belong to a generation that can artificially extend youth, almost indefinitely, so maybe she wasn't completely bonkers (even though that wasn't known about at the time, so she clearly was). I am not entirely convinced that I would like that. Even though I have spent the last few years wishing I could recapture my fleeting youth. I think it might not be as enjoyable if that actually was possible. And let's face it, there are enough people in the world already, with more arriving all the time, without the rest of us outstaying our welcome.
Anyway, nice to know that I am definitely going to be around for a few decades. And I will be suing the internet if I die before 2039. Because I am taking the news as a guarantee of my safety. Which means I can rescue people from burning buildings and go to war and take crazy risks and nothing can possibly go wrong. Cool.
