Satisfaction in what I do, with a feeling that it is having some value, always a challenge but never one I cannot accomplish with reasonable effort, warm and decent people around me (and no jerks), and a sense of loving and being loved.
[rant]Anyone who wants to parody the Christian heaven with the old sitting-around-on-clouds-with-harps canard and the a-God-who-demands-worship canard deserves the sermonette on how atheism is really a religion. [/rant] It takes communication on both sides to make a debate work.
Everybody’s eight years old, it’s the middle of July, you go swimming and bike riding with your friends all day and your mother bakes great pies for dinner.
John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. That’s my name too.
Wait, no it isn’t.
<font size=4>Heaven is a library! A BIG library! With ALL the books, written & unwritten!</font>
Save The Endangered Jackalope! Send Cash Now! If You Do This, I Will Use The Cash To Save Any Jackalope That I Happen To Find! Send Cash Now! Before It’s Too Late! My Bills, I Mean The Jackalope’s Bills Are Due The 15th Of The Month! This has been a message from the Illuminated Committee To Save The Jackalope. Fnord.
Which was, of course, a parody of an episode of The Twilight Zone entitled “It’s a Good Life”, which was in turn based on a short science fiction story of the same name written by Jerome Bixby.
B-b-but it was a good episode of the Simpsons! Real good! sweating
I think I get it, although I could be wrong. The thing is, I doubt any projection I make here, aside from pointing out the perception that my human limits might not longer apply. Forever is more than just a very long time, and infinite is more than real big.
Every thing I know now is of the Earth, except the Lord Himself. So, I don’t think Heaven will have much in common with things that I can describe. Endless eating, and sex might sound great, for a few thousand years, but it’s not gonna last. Unending pleasure is too monochrome for perfection in being. The fact is, if it isn’t any better than the very best that human minds can envision, it sounds like a trap to me. I don’t think it is a trap, I think we can’t begin to understand what it will be like.
It must be beyond my wildest dreams, and more wonderful than my dearest hopes. Nothing less than greater by far than all that might be described. God is superlative in ways that I cannot now even understand, but perhaps that will change, too!
My ideal Heaven is that everyone would be given their own Universe to play in, and you’ll spend eternity exploring it, and doing what you will. Sorta like “Q” in ST:TNG maybe? Sounds like fun!
Picard: “Scott! Get of of my ship!!”
Me: “Why, my dear captain. Let’s have some fun first!”
In THE GREAT DIVORCE, C.S. Lewis paints a picture of Hell as a place much like earth, although excessively urban…unbroken miles of city, with people sitting in their apartments and focusing on themselves, acting pretty much the way they did before they died.
Heaven was a place where the inhabitants had accepted Christianity, given up their ego and any sense of self (sounds a bit Buddhist, Mr. Lewis), and subsumed themselves wholly into the Faddah, Son, an’ Holy Ghost. And were delighted and at peace with themselves from having done so.
And overbearingly smug about it. I hate that fucking C.S. Lewis.
Frankly, his idea of Hell didn’t sound so bad to me. As long as my apartment has enough room for a piano (hee hee hee…hell for the guy downstairs), and there’s a liquor store within walking distance.
Every time you mention ATLAS SHRUGGED, He gets so peevish he has to take the escalator down to the seventh level and stick a red-hot pitchfork into little Aynnie’s fyannie.
I can’t speak for all of the minute details of my personal Heaven, but I can tell you that the Dead are still touring. There are shows from all phases, i.e. Pig Pen, some Donna (though not too many) lots of Brent shows, late seventies, young/old/fatter/thinner Jerry… you get the idea. Hendrix, Morrison, Joplin, etc. are all there, opening and jamming with the band.
You are all, of course, invited to visit / tour through my Heaven. Of course, please don’t ask me when mail order starts… some things I’d rather not know.
Once in a while you can get shown the light
in the strangest of places
if you look at it right…
Rhythm, I assume you know the Jimmy Buffett-in-Heaven story?
Buffett dies and goes directly to Heaven. God, being a fan, is there to greet him. He gives Jimmy the Cook’s Tour, shows him all the sights, and finally, proudly, shows him where he’ll be staying.
It’s a comfy-looking little cottage with a porch and a rocking chair and a small lawn, plus a flagpole with a little parrot banner flying from it. “You’re a lucky guy, Jim,” God says. “We don’t give EVERYONE his own place!”
Jimmy looks up the hill. There on the crest is a fine-looking mansion, three stories, with balconies and tennis courts and a pool and landscaped gardens. There’s tie-dyed flags flying all around it, and a big “SkullFuck” banner hanging over the main door. A bootleg of “Dark Star” is heard issuing from an upper floor window.
Jimmy says, “It’s a nice house, God, and don’t think I’m not grateful…but I just gotta ask: How come I only rate a little cottage, and Garcia got a huge mansion?”
God looks confused for a second, then laughs uproariously. “Oh, that’s not JERRY’S place. That’s MINE!”
Sounds like fun!