Actually I'm a bit like William Melvin Hicks and Charles R. Darwin, when it comes to religion, because both questioned God, but have made their peace with him. We choose our own Heaven or Hell, not made-up hopes written by others. Everyone for themselves in the afterlife, and no one can tell me the absolute truth about it. But as a former jesuit, who teases mormons and Jehovas Witnesses, who don't remember Jibril's (Gabriel) important presence in three religions, I'd rather get roasted by Lucifer than ever settle for Barry Manilow playing the harpe in Heaven... My hope is, when I die, there'll be a foggy scarlet dawn on a lilywhite meadow, and entering this barrier between past and eternity, which includes a open bar with Salvadore Dalí as the host, Jimi Hendrix's riffs, Janis Joplin's voice, Jerry Lee Lewis killing the piano and Animal's "muppet-percussion", will slide in the background, when I progress into pinty discussions, about how I was, with those I've lost on the way here.... Because then I'll still get hell from loved ones in a divine place, and forever learn more. Or I'll just get cremated, and be used as torched fertilizer for the fishies of Flensborg Fjord. There are so many alternatives than religious fear....
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