Spring Break
All hail the awesome Pharaoh Rockwell!
By: Eamonn Rockwell
Issue date: 5/11/07 Section: Ed-Op
Originally published: 5/11/07 at 3:07 AM EST
Last update: 5/11/07 at 3:11 AM EST
Originally published: 5/11/07 at 3:07 AM EST
Last update: 5/11/07 at 3:11 AM EST
While gazing into the setting sun the other day, I began to ponder various questions that humanity has searched to answer since we evolved to the point to know what a question was. What is the meaning of life? Is there a God? Will the Rolling Stones ever die? While these questions are meaningful to the general population, they do not pertain to me and are therefore useless, except for the one about the Rolling Stones. One question came across my mind that I couldn't forget about no matter how many times I banged my head against the wall while shoving roofies down my gullet.
That question was how people would remember me when I shuffled off this mortal coil. Would they remember me as an abusive father, a poor speller or an angry insulin-addicted vagrant that hated everything good and pure in the world? The possibilities were endless, but none of them were particularly appetizing. Most people would have taken that as a sign that they needed to change their evil ways, baby. But then again, most people didn't urinate next to Quentin Tarantino in the LAX airport bathroom. Incidentally, that's probably the only part of this article that is one hundred percent fact. Being a man who never cared for the truth, I decided that the only way for future generations to remember me in a positive light, or any light, was to get rid of all the current facts about me and begin construction on a tomb so majestic and epic that the city of Las Vegas would bow down before it. Literally, every building in the city would lean over in its general direction as a sign of submission.
While I got the idea earlier, I realized that this was the future for me when visiting the King Tut exhibit. Tutankhamen became the Pharaoh of the Egyptian empire when he was nine years old, something I didn't accomplish until I was 18, and even then my reign was so short they didn't have time to make any sculptures of me doing any Pharaoh stuff. Although I do not necessarily believe that my vital organs should be placed in four separate stone jars while my body is dried to the point where it could easily mistaken for delicious beef jerky, the fact remains that the Great Pyramids of Giza are the only ones of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World left today. The pyramids were self-indulgent, but awe-inspiring, and I would like to think of myself as the same way, except I hope that historians use a prettier phrase than "self-indulgent" to describe me.
That question was how people would remember me when I shuffled off this mortal coil. Would they remember me as an abusive father, a poor speller or an angry insulin-addicted vagrant that hated everything good and pure in the world? The possibilities were endless, but none of them were particularly appetizing. Most people would have taken that as a sign that they needed to change their evil ways, baby. But then again, most people didn't urinate next to Quentin Tarantino in the LAX airport bathroom. Incidentally, that's probably the only part of this article that is one hundred percent fact. Being a man who never cared for the truth, I decided that the only way for future generations to remember me in a positive light, or any light, was to get rid of all the current facts about me and begin construction on a tomb so majestic and epic that the city of Las Vegas would bow down before it. Literally, every building in the city would lean over in its general direction as a sign of submission.
While I got the idea earlier, I realized that this was the future for me when visiting the King Tut exhibit. Tutankhamen became the Pharaoh of the Egyptian empire when he was nine years old, something I didn't accomplish until I was 18, and even then my reign was so short they didn't have time to make any sculptures of me doing any Pharaoh stuff. Although I do not necessarily believe that my vital organs should be placed in four separate stone jars while my body is dried to the point where it could easily mistaken for delicious beef jerky, the fact remains that the Great Pyramids of Giza are the only ones of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World left today. The pyramids were self-indulgent, but awe-inspiring, and I would like to think of myself as the same way, except I hope that historians use a prettier phrase than "self-indulgent" to describe me.
