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Wetback
Angels
for
release on 11-29-04
What
will determine the outcome of the current strife in our world will be
whose idea of Heaven prevails.
This is why the Christian Right is circling the wagons. These guys are
scared. They are scared, not of going to Hell, because in their conceit
they assume they will be part of the elect; what they are afraid of is
that the Christians whose nickels hit the plate every Sunday morning will
find out about this other Heaven enjoyed by Muslims.
I mean there is nothing wrong with eternal peace, piped in hymns and sitting
at the throne of god all day long admiring His majesty and all that, but
it hardly compares to hot tubs full of virgins that feed you ambrosia
in gardens of earthly delight. If people of faith start comparison shopping,
the Christian business could go the way of mom and pop stores when Wal-Mart
hits town.
It's like the difference between Branson, Mo and Las Vegas. Branson has
Andy Williams and the Gatlin Bros. singing hymns and Vegas has gambling,
free drinks and gourmet buffets, six-foot show girls with forty inch bust-lines,
drag-shows, and you can be married by Elvis. Where would you rather spend
eternity?
So it's understandable why the Christians are edgy about the subject of
Heaven. They are anxious to guard their franchise from foreign competition.
They must feel like GM and Ford felt like when the Japanese started making
cars that would get forty miles per gallon when the old Fords and Chevys
were getting fifteen. What did Detroit do? They redesigned and retooled.
That's what the Christians should do about Heaven if they really want
to get market share. They need an extreme makeover. Fashion-wise, Heaven
is still in the late Renaissance. What's with the robes and harps? It
looks like a cult up there. Get a little style and variety, you guys.
Think Hip-Hop. To make Heaven really sell, you need Malls up there full
of boutiques and gift shops and gambling arcades. Oh, yeah, Starbucks.
Make a deal with The Gap and Victoria's Secret.
And all this piece and tranquility stuff has got to go. To make heaven
an exciting place we need professional sports and gambling and violent
movies and video games. Loud music. Ice skating rinks. When you are selling
salvation, you have to give the customer what he wants. Heaven is big
enough for a NASCAR track, right?
I don't want to be a party pooper here, but I must tell you, the Hell
thing is a definite liability. You need to get rid of it. I know the carrot
and stick method has worked well in the Heaven Timeshare scam for centuries,
but this is a new age of marketing. You want ALL the customers, not just
the righteous. I recommend amnesty. If you abolished Hell, it would solve
the immigration problem. Low income housing would be a good solution to
this. Put the semi-righteous and the downright sinners in the slums, not
in Hell. That way they can still get to the Wal-Mart. Even Heaven has
an economy. The only possible purpose for Hell would be as a place to
get immigrant workers, and since the wages of sin are low these days,
perhaps you could outsource jobs there.
The Poet's Eye sees that the real immigration problem will develop on
the border between Heaven and Paradise. The economy is bound to be much
better in Paradise because houris and ambrosia and steamy, lush gardens
and fleshly pleasures just sell better than prayers and harp music. This
means that the souls in Heaven will be encouraged to swim the River Stix
much as the Mexicans swim the Rio Grande, in order to seek a more glorious
and affluent afterlife. Even the dead want to be upwardly mobile. I wonder
if illegal immigrants from Heaven can get a driver's license in Paradise?
Will there be terrorist angels?
The Poet's Eye blinks and wonders: Whose version of Heaven will sell?
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.---from Kubla Kahn
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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