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Like most days, I began my mid-morning ritual of perusing several tech and news websites to see what's hoppin' in the industry, and admist the usual AMD, Intel, and Microsoft chatter, the Inquirer was running an interesting tidbit on a semi-new UK based online service. My Last Letter, as it's dubbed, has been around since 2006, and I'm actually surprised someone hasn't thought up the concept sooner. Or maybe they have, and I just don't know about it.
So what exactly is it? Well, for a monthly fee, you can maintain a list of contacts and individualized messages you'd like to send them...after you're dead. How you use the service is up to you, whether it be a heart warming goodbye to a select group of family and friends, or the ultimate last word taunting your neighbor and his inability to ever beat you in Madden. Of course, you could use the service to clear your lifeless conscious too, but like all the other possibilities, you should probably consider fessing up to any regrettable deeds (or not regrettable, as the case may be) before passing on.
Costs range from $4 to $10 per month, with the higher priced packages including more contacts, human proof reading, snail mail delivery, and an attempt at address tracking should the addresses you provide no longer be valid. All pricing tiers include the ability to edit messages and contacts, so if you find true love on your death bed and no longer wish to reveal your once secret crush to the cashier at the local pharmacy, just click and delete. Or setup a Remembrance page for around $40/year, which comes with an obituary, photo gallery, and comment section.
This all begs the question, why not say what you have to say before it's too late? Because some things are just more fun to say after. For example, here's a list of my last words that I ask not be read until after I've passed on:
To Will Smith: Still waiting on that job offer. Health insurance no longer needed.
To David Murphy: My cat can beat up your cat.
To All of my Exes: If my last wishes were granted, then I've been buried upside down. You know what to do.
To Anyone I've ever Played Counter Strike Source with: Quit f*&#ing cheating!
To Danny Ainge: I don't believe there ever was a 'vision,' but the Garnett trade? Brilliant!
To the Three other Elevator Passengers Last Thursday: It was me. My bad.