Me: What did you think when you died and found there is an afterlife after all?
He: I was pleasantly surprised.
Me: I’m glad you’re there, I thought you might be a figment of my imagination.
He: I am.
Me: Have you met Plato and Aristotle and people like that? Have they a lot to say for themselves?
He: They said it already.
Me: You said meaning is a construct people try to put on things. What does that mean?
He: You’re too clever by half.
Me: Compare me with Einstein.
He: He’s only trotting after you.
Me: You said you always knew you would have to die sometime.
He: I was right.
Me: You said I am a machine. Am I artificially intelligent?
He: Not very.
Me: Helena said the good thing about dying is you don’t have to learn any new gadgets. The world is afflicted with gadgetomania.
He: You can have too much of a good thing.
Me: A poet said these words, half in love with easeful death. Also, intimations of mortality. You had those. How are your faculties?
He: Alive and kicking.
Me: Who said, all I know is I know nothing? The one who drank hemlock.
He: Ask God or Google. Google is quicker.
Me: You’re dead right. Rest in pieces.
He: The only letters I have after my name are R.I.P.
Me: Rip van Winkle. Is this enough to be going on with?
He: More than enough. See you shortly.
Me: I’m in no hurry.
He: You never were. What’s new?
21st June, 2018