Bach’s Air on the G String is, I feel, the most sublime piece of music ever written.

This piece is the most melancholic piece ever written in my, albiet limited, appreciation of baroque music. That I am moved to write this at 3am should be justification enough that this sublime piece of musical excellence should enter those most hallowed halls that play such tunes. I can only wish that I am welcomed unto the pearly gates with such a wondrous example of what music is truly about.

Any power of attorney or legal document notwithstanding, I wish that I should be sent on my merry way with this, the most perfect of evocative tunes, upon the occasion of my untimely death. Though I hope to forstall the march of time for many year yet (Mum and Dad, I want the house ;) I would like this particular music played as I am lowered into my environmentally friendly post-hole, before the tree planted in my honour begins its inevitable devouring of my remains.

But most of all, I would like to be remembered as this song. I have not yet managed to make my mark in any meaningful way, so please let Bach speak for me in perfect four part harmony. If I could have written a more beatific song, I would have, but why reinvent the wheel?

And yet, directly afterwards, please play Symphony 9. The Choral Symphony featuring the Ode to Joy. Followed closely by, well, anything really. Learn to appreciate great music. I f you haven’t already, the death of someone as insignificant as myself isn’t likely to spur you on. And yet, I encourage you all to seek out beauty, wherever you find it. Relish art, in all its forms. And get well pissed at my wake, because it’s my estate financing the gig, so you’d bloody well better have a good time. If you don’t, I’ll come back to haunt you, possibly in the form of pseudo-reality television.

Don’t say you weren’t warned.

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