Here's how I think my death is going to go down.
2063. I'm 96 years old. I have some sort of disease that is finally taking my body and I have decided not to put my brain in a jar and live as a computer. I'm tired. I'm ready to go. My wife, son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren are in the room with me. I'm wearing a pair of Google 5.2 glasses my grand-daughter had given me for my 93rd birthday that allowed me to watch Wake hoops games without even lifting my head. I can follow the 3D ogboards site as well. The light is fading, my life is dimming. And suddenly, on my Google glasses, IrishSlim and bmoney both almost in synchronicity videoblog me. Irish says, JET. BMoney says, BATTIER. Both are in their 80s. I say FUCK YOU, startling my grandchildren who think I'm starting to hallucinate. The light goes out. No light comes on. Cursed to the end.
BTW, RJ Karl had decided 15 years prior to my death to have his brain offbodied into a computer, so he lives on forever. Sort of.