Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Don't Pull My Tube

Actually, what I mean is, don't pull my tube if there's the slightest--and I mean slightest-- possibility that a politician's vacation might be interrupted by holding off a bit. To put it another way, only make a federal case out of it if it will inconvenience self-righteous hacks in Washington.

I guess I'll go ahead and put it out there, online, for all the world (or at least a handful of folks) to see: If I ever end up in a persistent vegetative state and need a feeding tube to stay alive, please yank the tube out of me. Also, I don't want cameras on me to record my vacant stare and gaping mouth...unless someone hires a make-up artist and stylist ahead of time. If that's the case, I'll need to be put in a situation where such an expression is appropriate.

Wait. It's coming to me. If I, Laura Swisher, ever end up in a persistent vegetative state and become the center of a media/political circus, I'll only allow footage of me if the following conditions have been met:

1) I have full make-up, done by a professional make-up artist out of a major media market--LA, New York...Okay, that's it. Only an LA or New York make-up artist.

2) A stylist selects the appropriate wardrobe for me to appear in.

3) All coverage must be shot in front of a green screen. If someone needs to paint my hospital room the appropriate color green, so be it.

4) Whatever inane expression happens to be on my face has to correspond with the appropriate given circumstances, which will be rendered in post-production thanks to the magic of green screens. For example, if I have a goofy smile on my face and my eyes are at half-mast and/or unfocused, there should probably be a bong or two near my person, or a crack pipe, or something that would indicate an altered state...OR there are unicorns flying about and my expression might be that of wonderment. If I'm asleep but drooling, I'd like it to look as if I've tried to commit suicide with a bottle of pills next to my person. Obviously the suicide has failed and I'm passed out and drooling, but there's a concrete reason why I'm drooling that's a little more edgy than "persistent vegetative state."

If the president says it's important to always err on the side of life (even if he signed legislation as governor advocating otherwise), know that my personal wishes are to err on the side of sarcasm. If I am unable to formulate a sarcastic comment, or roll my eyes in disdain, please pull my plug or tube, or whatever life-sustaining device I may be hooked up to in the future.

And if that day should come, I can only hope someone has bookmarked this entry, and can produce it if necessary.

2 comments:

kikojames said...

hee hee...:)

Redlobo said...

I think the odds of you actually becoming a vegetable is pretty slim. I would imagine you would choose the time and place of your own demise. Like maybe show up to your former employer, G4, with an AK-47. Or maybe show up at Joey the Intern's place with an AK-47. Possible showing up at Martin Sargent's pad with the AK. All I know is that at the time of your passing, you will have an AK-47 in your hand, and dozens of innocent bystanders dead all around you. And Paul Bellini, from Kids in the Hall, will be dancing on your grave.