Neat things to do when you're dead (...or someone else is)

I just finished reading two books by Mary Roach, Stiff and Spook.  These are both entertaining and informative, written in a witty and charming style.  In Spook, Ms. Roach seeks to discover if the afterlife actually exists, while in Stiff, she examines exactly what does happen to a person after they have become an ex-person, shuffled off their mortal coil, begun their dirt nap...etc (you see where this is going).  I, being a professor of biology, have dutifully checked the organ donation box on my driver's licence so when I do as previously described may offer others the chance to live on with whatever bits of me may still be useful, but have not as yet specified what to do with the rest.  My original intent was to will my body to science in hopes of being rendered down to skeleton and ensconced in a teaching lab, forever to inform and give sleepless nights to generations of eager young science students.  As an instructor I can think of no better way to spend my eternity.  While I might not be able to give the lectures, at least I'd direct them, in a sense.  However, Ms. Roach found that while most cadavers do indeed end up in medical teaching labs (as a grad student, I had the opportunity once to help deliver some to the gross anatomy class at Illinois State University), many are used for a wide variety of purposes, from forensic science studies to being processed as human organic fertilizer.  Most skeletons today are highly detailed plastic, easy to produce and much more hygienic than my bio hazardous bones are likely to be.  I must, therefore, choose another path.  Intellectually I know that my quest for immortality is more a product of hubris and perhaps vanity than scientific, and that having successfully produced a son (with more than a great deal of the initial work done by my wife) my genetic heritage has a better than even chance of being passed on, I would still like to think there is something more than the big sleep awaiting me.  I don't like funerals or funeral homes other than in that creepy horror sort of way, and funeral home directors all bring to mind Angus Scrimm, the wonderfully tall, creepy actor from the Phantasm movie series.  Body donation should be cheap, practical and efficient and should take most of the financial and emotional load off of my survivors.  Perhaps composting... you are, as they say, what you eat, so perhaps it's plantdom for me, at least until an herbivore comes along.  Body farm as bug, bacteria and fungus food?  Forensic anthropologists and their students could surely learn things from what's left over and entomologists, ecologists and microbiologists could all be a little more job secure.  The possibilities are many, though I, personally, will not get to choose, much like booking a hotel through Hotwire or Priceline.  Not that I will care at the time.

The other possibility lies in what becomes of the non-corporeal me once the main event has occurred.  Neither I, nor Ms. Roach know even if such a thing as the afterlife exists, so pre-planning is pretty much out of the question.  If I am to be a spook, I would like very much to be able to interact with the physical world so I can, at the very least, torment nasty people and teach the good.  I don't see that happening though and no doctored video or gibberish-filled EVP will convince me otherwise.  Still, wouldn't it be fun to make Jason Hawes or Grant Wilson or John Edwards (or any of those others out there who make their living convincing others that such nonsense is true) make poo in front of a live studio audience?