I have always had difficulty with the concept of Heaven for the simple reason that what constitutes heaven for me must inevitably constitute Hell for somebody else. In any case, what each of us regards as ideal can only be a fairly nebulous concept: we may find that the realisation of this ideal is not what we actually wanted at all. As the old saying goes; ‘be careful what you wish for, it just might come true’.
The concept of Hell is much easier to envisage. All you need to do is think of the thing which you like least, and imagine having to endure it for eternity. The idea of being chased around and tormented by devils isn’t really necessary: in any case, it would be quite exciting to rush around trying to avoid red hot pokers; at least you wouldn’t get bored.
For me, Hell would entail an eternity doing ironing. The thought of a little room containing an iron, ironing board, and an infinite quantity of laundry fills be with abject horror. I cannot imagine any other activity which is so mind numbingly tedious. I have been known to only iron shirt fronts and collars as the rest is concealed by a jacket. I know that there are some rather disturbed individuals out there who actually find ironing ‘therapeutic’. Well, each to their own I say. Nutters.
It’s quite interesting to consider what would constitute an eternity of Hell for popular historical figures and celebrities. I can think of a few:-
- Adolf Hitler: watching Mel Brooks ‘The Producers’, alone in a cinema.
- Mick Jagger: having to perform ‘Satisfaction’ for free.
- Margaret Thatcher: working as a coal miner.
- Bill Clinton: working as a marriage guidance counsellor.
- Cakesniffer: responding in a calm and reasonable manner to anon commenters.
- Elvis Presley: subsisting on a diet of mung beans and alfalfa.
- Bob Dylan: performing as a stand up comedian.
- Paul McCartney: listening to a school choir perform ‘The Frog’s Chorus’.
- Jeffrey Archer: telling the truth.
- Herge Smith: commenting on blogs.
- Bruce Willis: using deodorant.
I can think of plenty of others, but you’re probably bored to death by now. Just take away the thought that whoever you despise will probably experience a Hell personally tailored for them. That’s a comforting thought.
24 comments:
Oh har har har, v funny.
My idea of hell is probably being stuck in a room full of sycophants for all eternity. I had just that same experience today. One bloke creeped so much that I thought he was going to fall to the floor and kiss the all powerful one's feet!
A second hell on the way down would be an eternity in Asda - or a closed environment with Asda clientel.
Ironing would be tedious, but it's one of those that's OK once you get down to tackling it.
Sycophants are intolerable. I once worked with a bloke who was known as the 'arsedweller'. His cringeing and grovelling was unbearable.
I'm with you on Asda. That women smacking her arse and going chink chink made me want to vomit.
If you don't mind ironing, I'm quite happy to send you some.
Well, my own ironing is ok. I don't know about anybody else's.
I know people who iron socks. How mental is that?
Ironing I indeed find therapeutic*, it's the washing-clothes bit I can't stand. Which is why I have no friends, except perhaps for Bruce Willis but then he wears the same vest in every film.
*If the missus asks, I didn't say this.
Thing is I can imagine Bill Clinton really enjoying and being a very successful marriage councillor. Weird that.
I'm leaving this comment mainly to test blogging software, but I do think it's weird to iron socks (unless they are silk).
Not to sound utterly pretentious, but Sartre said "Hell is other people." You can add him to your list.
Hell would be living in France with no sense of taste. Ironing definitely comes a close second though. Did you know that the bonne maman of the family I lived with in France even ironed the dishtowels? It's a sickness, that is.
I can't imagine kissing Tina's feet.
I mean, all that fungus and stuff.
Urrrgh, urrgh, urrrrrrrrrrrrgh.
And did I say 'Urgh'?
I think you are on to something Wynham. No clothes washing would mean no ironing. Voila?
Sartre may well have said that but he rubbed along very nicely with dozens of young ladies. Top chat up line.
Piggy, will you stop picking on me, you bastard?
Wyndham, are you accusing me of trying to chat up Garfer?
Garfer, are you interested?
Hell is being stuck in an endless queue in Asda behind really dithery old women who count out their pre-decimal coins for half an hour when they pay and dozens of mums who let their toddlers run around,then the toddlers start wailing in unison. All this and you're damned to suffer from really bad menstrual cramps for ever. That's all.
Bronwen
I am always available (for a small fee).Sartre was very popular with the ladies. God knows why, he had a face like a squashed frog.
Tina,
I am intrigued by the PigTaz Podcast. I assume it was scurrilous, but I'd love to know the details.
wow Garf, i've actually had that very thought. ironing is the household chore i hate more than any other, and i've actually contemplated on the idea of hell as an eternity ironing. that post was like you reaching into my head and pulling out my vision.
Great minds think alike.
Yes, iroing is pretty high on the list of Hellacious activities. Another one is listening to a baby who is not yours cry for 8 hours straight with nothing to console them... Believe me, that's as close to Hell as I ever wanna be.
Hell is sitting in a cold room (with the window open) for 13 hours a day, interviewing the disinterested detritus from the explosion of Britain's education system and trying not to laugh when one of them claims that Napoleon Hitler led the Germans in the Falklands War.
Garfer, I shall burn said podcast onto a cd and post it to you if you wish, or the boys will. It's definitely worth a listen if you like to hear being cruel to a defenseless girl and saying the vilest things about her.
Still, not as bad as what they were saying about you!
It was actually extremely funny and I was very flattered by it.
My hell would be stuck with husband and children, with nothing to distract me from them, and no where else possible to go because they'd always be there, timeless, annoying....wait a min, must be there already cause I am already living it!
As a highly litigous individual, I think it is best that I don't know the content of the Podcast!
Screaming children are indeed high on the list of hellish experiences. The Victorians used to dose them with brandy. Very wise, those Victorians.
I think children should be sent the workhouse between the ages of 3 and 21.
My mom used to use benedryl. no lie.
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