From too much love of living,

          From hope and fear set free,

	We thank with brief thanksgiving

	  Whatever gods may be

	That no man lives forever,

	That dead men rise up never;

	That even the weariest river

	  Winds somewhere safe to sea.



	Then star nor sun shall waken,

	  Nor any change of light:

	Nor sound of waters shaken,

	  Nor any sound or sight:

	Nor wintry leaves nor vernal,

	Nor days nor things diurnal;

	Only the sleep eternal

	  In an eternal night.

Perhaps.

But first, something very bad is going to happen to you, and a thousand warring creeds and sects and millenia of fantasy and wishful thinking have not sufficed to throw the dimmest ray of light on what lies beyond - if anything. If anyone out there imagines that Pascal's Wager is clever, go for it; it can be disposed of very easily. I feel no trace of the ecclesiastical horror of suicide professed by Western religious thought. Other traditions see it as a minor issue, or even a positive duty under certain circumstances. But let's just blow all this off, eh? Humans fare best when left alone by the gods, and especially when left alone by those who profess to speak for the gods.

The really interesting thing about suicide is its implicit statement of the value of human life, the one value without which nothing else can have value. Although I do not feel a religious horror of suicide, I do feel a sort of philosophical horror. My notions of human dignity demand it. For example, this Kevorkian business. I believe that there can be no reasonable objection to assisted suicide - but only as long as the would-be decedent is literally, physically incapable of pulling a trigger, or swallowing a pill, or is otherwise incapable of doing it themselves. I am reminded of a pleasant little tale from "The Savage God," the work on suicide by A. Alvarez. Apparently, the London police believe that they can tell the difference in the bodies pulled from the Thames between the suicides motivated by some romantic misadventure and those motivated by financial difficulties by the condition of the fingertips. The romantics have abraded fingertips from grabbing at the pilings as they are swept past, trying to save themselves, whereas those with money problems merely sink like stones. I suppose this is some sort of British thing; an American with inextricable money problems would likely just declare bankruptcy, or change his name and move West. But the majority of Dr. Kevorkian's clients merely seem to want a cheering section to validate their choice, or want to go out in some polite, gentle way. I submit that these people don't want it badly enough.

In the basic education of this culture, there is an astonishing gap in that children are taught all sorts of things, but not any sense of tool-using physical efficacy, aside from what they might pick up by chance. There are only about a dozen knots that are of broad utility, but they are not taught. Putting a really good edge on steel seems a rare skill, and there are all sorts of ill-designed and badly-performing gimcracks on the market intended to correct this case of simple ignorance. Simple mechanics could be taught as soon as basic arithmetic is mastered - but it isn't. Basic electricity could also be taught, along with a certain amount of "kitchen sink" chemistry. Fundamental statistics should be very important.

Most important of all would be a course, stretching over several years, which one might call "How Not To Be A Fool." Can we not spare our children the terrible price that we paid to learn, all the way to the bone, that a principle that applies always and everywhere also applies here and now, without exemption for their special, wonderful selves? Most of us lie badly and reluctantly, and this is reflected in our generally poor ability to tell when, and how, we're being lied to. Try suggesting such a study at a school board meeting, and those who object will either be fools or The Enemy. We, and our children, live in an atmosphere dense with lies and distortions, from all quarters; and we are doing our children a nearly unforgiveable disservice by pretending otherwise. Surely we can bear the unavoidable revelations that some things that we believe are also lies. (At least, I'm told that people find this difficult; I'm not sure why. I rather enjoy having my intellectual landscape torn up every now and then. I'm not a big fan of "The Truth.") After crossing this emotional Rubicon, the teaching of all the classical logical fallacies would be easy, and easily applied.

All these things and more could be taught, and be directly anchored to real and immediate issues (unlike most schoolwork), and make not too difficult and exceptionally interesting classes for the children. The end result on the culture as a whole would be incalculable, almost unimaginable - but that's another essay. Where it bears on suicide, is the fact that people are frightened of the unknown and aware that their schemes could go awry, and leave them alive and embarrassed, or worse, alive and damaged. There seems to be a distinct tendency on the part of clergy to interpret this as God's will, or intervention by guardian angels, or some such rubbish. There's nothing so ethereal about it; it's purely physical and philosophical incompetence. And I think that feeling of incompetence contributed heavily to the events that brought them to this final problem.