Amen - part three: superstition

Those who don't accuse me of blasphemy or stupidity over what I've said about heaven and hell might still, if only out of superstition, call me reckless: if the afterlife existed, and hell weren't the revelry inn you're so keen on, don't you think they could make you burn there for exactly what you wrote?

The answer is simple, even if it's not intuitive. I've actually read the New Testament, the letters of Paul of Tarsus to the early Christian communities in particular. When Big Paul the persecutor converted and got appointed head of the apostolic delegation for the Gentile territory, he changed sides, but not his stickler habit: the requirements he set for getting into heaven are as bizarre as they are strict. I take great care not to meet them, so if that parallel reality really existed, I'd end up roasting straight away at "Churrascaria chez Satan."

That would be the fate of someone with my lifestyle, my values, and my convictions. It would still be, even if from here to my last day I took to writing hypocritical ass-kisses to the whole ecclesiastical establishment.
Precisely for that reason, since hell would be waiting for me anyway, it would pay to make friends with the owners of the joint. Maybe they'd reserve me a less scorching corner, where I'd keep singing the praises of the host.

Who knows? I might even become the official court propagandist. Not bad for someone who, to avoid the heavenly drag, is ready to risk ending up skewered on a rotisserie spit for all eternity. Right?

You can read the whole "Amen" saga by following this link.

Drafted from Italian with Blog Translator, then revised by me.

Amen - part two: the closing argument

Some of you may have thought my reflections on heaven and hell (you can find them by following this link) were blasphemous, or maybe just nonsense: completely baseless foolishness.
Objection, Your Honor. To clear up any misunderstanding, I call to the stand none other than the Bible itself, in paper and ink.

The Book of Genesis opens, like all great literature, "in medias res", with God, all alone for who knows how long, suffocating from boredom and falling prey to a compulsive creationism, which kicks off the history of the world. 
But even the world, so lifeless, doesn't save him from the tedium. So, using recycled materials, the way every clever kid does to get around that annoying state of mind, he builds himself a little toy: man. Then he plants the Garden of Eden and plops him right in the middle of it.
Man, though, is a lot like me: he wanted to be born in hell, where he surely would have had a blast. Instead he finds himself in this gorgeous place that looks a bit like Switzerland or Singapore. He stands around dazed for a few moments, admiring the splendor, but once the "wow" effect wears off, he starts getting bored shitless.

God, who has few rivals when it comes to empathy, partly because he's the only one around, notices: as you'll remember, he'd been through the same thing himself not long before. So he makes him animals, but the trick turns out to be a washout: man plays with them for a little while and then gets sick of them.
So God tries again and creates woman. In its own way, this gimmick also has to do with a hole, but it's definitely no washout. And this time man is into it. Woman piques his curiosity and tempts him into breaking the rule against eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge. The two little scamps, using the advice of an alleged talking snake as an excuse, eat the symbolic apple, setting off down the fantastic epistemological path we've never left since. 

Mr. Touchy finds out, though, flies into a rage, and kicks them down to hell.

So, to sum up: in heaven everybody tends to be bored out of their fucking minds, the host included. The moment they try to entertain themselves a little — fucking, snooping around, raising doubts, asking uncomfortable questions — they get told to head on down to hell, evidently a better fit for that kind of activity.

Now, taking into account a source above any suspicion whatsoever, you tell me, Esteemed Members of this Illustrious Jury: when I said hell would be a more interesting place than heaven, where exactly was I wrong?

You can read the whole "Amen" saga by following this link.

Drafted from Italian with Blog Translator, then revised by me.

Amen

Not that I count on it much, but if the afterlife really existed, between heaven and hell I would choose the latter.
It must be a place full of souls who party hard, chat, yell, drink, smoke, get high, fuck, fall in love, dance, sing, read irreverent literature, listen to tempting music, think, doubt, cry tears of emotion, laugh with delight.
Fire doesn't scare me, it's just a symbol: it represents warmth, joy, dance, love.
Heaven, though? What a gigantic pain in the ass. Those ashen faces, the snooty smiles, the pale straw-yellow skirts. The doorman's sad, persecuted-political look, good old Peter, would be enough to sink me into the most oppressive form of depression.
Honestly, I prefer the carnival style, the brazenness and the mocking grin of Satan.
P.S. I almost forgot: Amen!

You can read the whole "Amen" saga by following this link.