Suppose I wake up tomorrow morning and get hit by a bus.

 

My family, presumably consumed with grief over the death of someone so young, talented, and (ahem) full of potential, would arrange a wake and funeral service. I would be interred in a graveyard with a modest little tombstone, reading Michael Zannettis, 1982-2006, “Should have gotten out more.”

 

They will collect my belongings, keep what they find sentimental, and then give away the rest. It will be difficult, but they’ll do it. Any money I have in the bank will be transferred to my next of kin. That will take care of all my earthly possessions.

But what would happen to my MySpace page?

 

Nobody knows the password to my account except for me. How could they take it down? How could they modify it to let people know I’m dead? They couldn’t, because I’m the only one that controls it.

How would MySpace know that I died? They don’t know my real name. And if they did, they wouldn’t be checking the obituaries to delete defunct pages.

 

I could exist on MySpace for the rest of eternity for all they know. People could post comments on my page that I couldn’t regulate. I could be receiving messages in perpetuity. My song would be played out, then it would be retro, then it would be classic, even though it’s the same song. Time would make it an oldie.

This post-humous MySpace page is a new idea simply because MySpace is new and used relatively mostly by young people. But if it’s a company built to last, then in thirty to forty years, half of its users will be senior citizens, and that means, pretty soon, half of its users will be dead. When all these people pass, what will happen to their profiles? To their about me, who I’d like to meet, interests, and so on: will they exist to be read forever and ever, and unto the ages?

 

Will they stay posted, living on in cyberspace, or will someone come along to shut them down? (Would it be reasonable to shut down the MySpace page of a deceased person? Why wouldn’t they have the right to continue to express themselves? Do we burn the books of deceased authors? Do we graffiti the paintings of a deceased artists? Is a MySpace page a work of art, unique to the individual, intrinsic to itself?)

 

In some sense MySpace captures a piece of my consciousness. Read my profile and that’s really, sort of, who I am. Being alive is more than just breathing, eating, sleeping, and fracking: it’s about the patterns that our beings create. It’s about the way we tie our shoes, the jaunt in our walk, and the expression of our personalities on an internet networking site.

 

If I were to be hit by a bus tomorrow, would I continue to live on, just a little bit, in just this tiny way, through my MySpace account? Could people look me up on searches (not knowing I was dead in real life) and fall in love with me? Could this happen? Could I be someone’s misplace secret admirer?

 

Have I already messaged someone that I noticed through the Browse option not knowing that they’re dead. Is there a message sitting there in an unopened inbox, saying from Michael, with the subject, hi, wondering if they are friendly? Have I already met the dead?

 

I don’t really know the answers to any of these questions, but I believe they are out there. I wonder if anyone really does know right now. And if you do, please share it with me, because I’d like to know, and knowing would put me at peace.