November 09, 2006

What Dreams?

I don't want to go to heaven. And no, not for all the usual "all the cool people are in Hell" reasons.

Today being John Bonnell's last day at One To One started me thinking about The End of Things That You Don't Hate. Why these things have to happen, and how the loss of good things is kinda a part of what makes us human. And as sick as it is, I've come to realize I kinda like losing shit I like.

It's the same sort of way how when I was 9 and would get a new NES game I wanted for my birthday -- Metal Gear 2: Snake's Revenge, let's just say -- and I'd put it under my bed and not touch it until the next day. Just made the actual playing of it that much sweeter when it finally happened. Kinda like hitting yourself on the head with a tack hammer so it feels good when you stop, I guess.

And it's the reason country music sells millions.

Anyway.

What I'm worried about now is that there in fact is a heaven. And I'm going to get to heaven, and everything good isn't going to end. And that one particular joy -- loving something that's great more because you know it's going to be over soon -- will no longer be available. Everything's going to be great forever, and that core aspect of humanity -- loss and the building of strength to carry through it -- will be gone.

Not only that, but what the hell are we going to do for eternity that's not going to get old after awhile? I love drinking beer. I love music. I love building fires. I love drinking beer with friends and music and fires. But shit, I've been doing that for the past 15 years now, and even that's getting a little old. Well, it's starting to. Well, I'm sure it will soon. Give me another 5 years? Old.

So let's say I find a thousand other hobbies up there that I love just as much as firemusicfriendsbeer. After a thirty thousand years? All going to be old. And that still leaves me eternity minus thirty thousand years to fill.

The other possibility is that heaven is basically just the best weed ever made. St. Peter is the dealer to the gods. We all sit at a table with our family and just eat pie and poutine forever, and it's the best fucking poutine ever made, and the pie has ice cream on it, and we're just so happy and everything's just great and man did I mention how great the poutine is? And the ice cream? Totally Chunky Monkey.

But I don't want to spend eternity drugged. I want to live a good life here. Now. And meet people who rule. And meet assholes. And win a couple battles. And cry once in awhile. On the inside. And have some kids someday. And just do my damn best. And then one day, when my grandkids are doing their shit, and we're all teleporting to work, and I've not had much of an impact in the world, but maybe just a tiny little, I want to die. For good. And I'm hoping now, that if God's reading this, He'll be willing to just let me go. Because at the end of a decent, long life, doesn't everyone have the right to a good eternity's sleep?

Or, as JB put it -- and I can't argue this -- once I get there I probably won't give a shit.

Posted at 12:04 PM in Religion | | Comments (6) | TrackBack (0)

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