Hunter S. Thompson is in those fireworks. His ashes, anyway (and if they weren’t entirely ashes before, they are now). Damn, that’s an awesome way to go.
I personally intend to be cremated, since weighing my survivors down with thousands of dollars of wholly unnecessary funeral expenses is not really the way I wish to be remembered. Then I want my ashes formed into the shape of a garden gnome, the kind that ironic hipsters steal and then send all over the world, photographing each place they go to and sending pictures back to the owner (which I assume would be someone I know). I think that would be fairly amusing.