I see the merit in Old Slave's choice, but I prefer to be laid out on the cross while it still lies on the ground, and for my wrists and feet to be methodically bound and nailed while I buck, writhe and scream with each hammer blow ... and then to be raised after my loincloth is ripped away ... sliding with gravity downward on the rough surface of the stipe, and then thrown wildly about like a rag doll on the impact of the stipe falling to the bottom of the hole. That's a sequence of terror, pain, humiliation and helplessness that is difficult to beat.