You Can't Be Buried Next to Hendrix, Either. (But You Didn't Hear That from Me)

I, Patrick Washington Dunkler, being of exceptionally sound mind and body, do hereby declare this to be my Last Will and Testament. I am a senior member of the Search for Historical Inaccuracies and the Revelation of Truth, herein referred to as 'SHIRT.'

ARTICLE I
Burial

So, They finally got me! Who was it? The Government? The Freemasons? The MPAA? I must congratulate Them on a job well done. I am not an easy man to fool. How did I die? Did They poison the stamps I lick? Invent an aluminum-foil-piercing weapon? Switch out the pizza guy for a sexy female assassin who seduced me, then stabbed me with an icepick? I hope I wasn't a victim of the old 'black-limo drive-by.' Well, it doesn't matter now. I've lived a full life, and there are at least two other members of SHIRT to continue where I have fallen....

ARTICLE V
Miscellaneous

Lastly, please do not attempt to avenge my death. I understand your outrage, and I am flattered that you would risk your lives to do so, but you cannot beat Them at their own game. We will win the war, but it will take time. Whenever you see a lost soul mindlessly taking a news report as fact, explain to them how all news media is owned by the same 400-year-old Asian man. Whenever you see a child playing with an electronic toy, smash it to bits, and tell them about the tracking device inside, once they've stopped crying. And whenever you see someone drinking cappuccino, tell them about all the mind-altering chemicals the Government adds to the Styrofoam cups and free napkins. Remember: it is better to light a candle than to punch the darkness. Stay strong, my brothers! Truth will prevail!

In the event that I die of truly natural causes, please disregard my previous instructions and bury me below a tombstone that reads: 'I fought The Illuminati and all I got was this lousy tombstone.'

Seriously, McSweeney's is getting better.