Put yourself in the sandals of the guy I took a photograph of while at the Egyptian Museum in Turin, Italy. He was a VIP in ancient Egypt, having schemed and perhaps murdered his way into a position as a high-priest. Not bad from a little boy who grew up on the South Side of ancient Thebes. He dies (maybe bumped off by a smarter, rival priest), gets his entrails ripped out, his brain pulled out of his nose and his organs placed in canopic jars made to look like Anubis or a baboon. His body is wrapped in gauze scented with exotic perfumes, placed in a wooden sarcophagus that makes him look like a Pharaoh. And he’s buried in a secret location somewhere in the deserts of Egypt. The guy is looking forward to being served for all eternity by all the effigies in his tomb while his spirit can sit on elaborate chairs and roll naked in the riches laid to rest along with him in the afterlife.

Then, three- or four-thousand years later, an archeologist digs him up and heralds a great discovery. And his body is sent to a museum in Turin or New York or worse, San Jose, California, to lie for all eternity in a glass case while little children put their sticky fingers all over the glass while people like me ogle and snap photos of him Tuesday-Sunday, 10am to 5pm.

I ask you: Would you want to enter a museum in the year 4,000 to see your aunt Sadie’s corpse lying there for tourists to marvel over and post as selfies on the future equivalent of Tik-Tok or Instagram (God forbid that there are social media 2,000 years from now…hopefully we’ve evolved more as a people). Scattered around the glass case with her is her polyester granny-squares throw she crocheted, along with her collection of Hummel figurines and her Make America Great Again cap, our descendants trying to imagine what life was like in 2025 and what these strange artifacts mean. It’s going to happen. Trust me.

Me, I’m choosing cremation and having my ashes scattered over Henry Cavill’s naked body, while my DNA is encoded and shot by laser into deep space so that aliens can reconstruct me on a totally cool planet called Xraxis somewhere in a spiral arm of the Andromeda galaxy. There’s an afterlife you can look forward to.