I want to write my own eulogy, and I want to write it in Latin. It seems only fitting to read a dead language at my funeral.

The line uses a darkly comic conceit—planning one’s own eulogy—to satirize both vanity and the rituals surrounding death. Writing it in Latin, a “dead language,” creates a pun that turns funeral solemnity into wordplay: the language’s cultural prestige (education, tradition, church ceremony) is invoked, then undercut by the literal deadness of the tongue. The speaker’s desire for control over posthumous narrative also hints at anxiety about how one will be remembered, while the joke suggests that remembrance itself can be performative and opaque—like a eulogy few attendees can understand.