Rest in Peace

photo: Zarateman

Here is a question you may have been entertaining. What will be your epitaph and who’s going to write it? If you’re proleptic and have already answered and are a male New Yorker genus “Larry David,” the answer is undoubtedly, “HE FINALLY GOT LAID.” Montaigne couldn’t have thought that one up. Look at the double entendre “laid to rest” and you know…in fact the latter may be far from the truth. You may go to your grave without getting laid at least within the final weeks of your life. Yes Nelson Rockefeller died in flagrante, but even your beloved partner is unlikely to come near an old crow who's in the process of decomposition. Violent sex of the kind that is practiced by most couples in these contentious times is not a sport a gerontocrat needs to indulge unless he or she's willing to break a leg (to invoke another double entendre). And whether or not one satisfies a wish, there's no way that, once you’re buried, this all purpose epigraph won’t prove true. 

read the review of Francis Levy's The Kafka Studies Department on Booklist

and listen to "Shake Me, Wake Me (When It's Over)"by The Four Tops