If you want to take a dead body, dress it up, put it in an expensive box, load it into a specially made car, tote it all the way across town and bury it in the most overpriced hole on the planet while crying and carrying on over the reading of a stupid passage from a 2000 year old novel go ahead.

But I’m not getting out of your way when you cross me at an intersection with your hazards flashing and your funeral procession flags waving.

I have things to do.

Screw you and screw the dead person.