While traditionally I always imagined the fire and brimstone, I have enjoyed thinking about the different forms it may or may not take as I have gotten older. I have been watching a fair amount of both TV shows 'The Good Place' and 'Preacher'. Both of which are quite good, but offer an interesting perspective on what hell is or might be.
On 'The Good Place', the idea is that an architect in hell is trying to veer from traditional torture methods and create something more sinister to torture people. In essence, trying to create emotional turmoil rather than locking you in a crate and dropping scorpions in. To be honest, I would much rather get tossed in a pit of snakes than have someone try to psychologically damage me. I'm a very simple person, it wouldn't be that hard to confuse me and make me cry, just beat me with a wooden bat when I get to hell.
The TV series 'Preacher' has the image that every person in hell will re-live the worst moment of their lives over and over and over, endlessly. Additionally, how you react each time could potentially trigger something worse to happen in your memory. I thought about this long and hard, and to be fair, I can't pinpoint when the worst moment of my life would be. Would it be that time when I ran down the hall in third grade, barfing the whole way, only to arrive at the toilet not needing to barf anymore, but covered my favorite shirt in puke? Or maybe that time when my older sister told me I couldn't have any of her 6 ft bubble tape and hid it in her dresser. Then, knowing where she hid it, sneaking into her room, chewing the entire 6 ft and sticking each chewed up piece to a sticker that was on her dresser? Then after that having my mom confront me asking if I did it, blatantly lying and saying no? Actually, I don't feel that bad about that. She should have shared when she had the chance, AMANDA. I do feel bad about lying to my mom. Sorry mom.
I always pictured hell in a different light. You see, I do imagine that there are architects in hell, drawing up plans for me to be uncomfortable for eternity. I also have a pretty good idea about what my hell would look like. Maybe I will get promoted to an architect in hell after a few millennia. You can laugh but, they let people out of prison for good behavior.
I would imagine when I arrive in hell I will be put in the middle of a crowded Ulta makeup store. I would really need to use the bathroom, and desperately trying to find my wife, or an exit to go use the horrible pig trough of a mall restroom. But every time I turned a corner, there would be a swarm of young teenage girls clogging up the aisles. I can see my wife's blonde head, but every time I would try to go down the aisle to meet up with her, there would be a gaggle of idiot girls. I refuse to say 'excuse me' and cut through the girls, because I refuse to do that in real life. I just keep attempting to go down a different aisle and avoid any confrontation, or speaking to anyone in any form, just like I do now, and finding more crowded aisles. The more times I try to dodge, the more girls that show up. Pretty soon it's like an Ozzy Osbourne concert, and I can't move at all, and I am surrounded by girls wearing black shirts of bands they don't listen to, and talking about boys they don't like. At this point I have to whiz so bad I decide to just go in a local garbage can but find none. The hell doesn't reset until I wet my pants, and every girl is pointing and laughing.
I do have an alternate hell idea for myself. I would be at McDonalds, and after picking up my order that is completely wrong, and full of pickles and mustard, I try to get to the drink fountain. I am just absolutely frothing at the mouth for some of that delicious, ethereal, saintly, seraphic, cherubic, celestial, heavenly McDonalds Coca-cola. While on my way to the fountain, there is a very long line of folks. The problem isn't the line, it's that no one is paying attention. They are all looking at their phones and showing each other pictures of their children, cats and dogs. So every time I try to shove ahead, a person turns to me, shows me a picture of their dog or cat, and I have to feign excited. It starts out with the cat people who just show you pictures of their cat sleeping and saying "He's an asshole." and I say "Yep, but at least he's cute?" and they laugh and agree. The Dog people are worse. They will not leave me alone until they tell me how old their dog is, what their name is, what tricks they can do, what their favorite snack is, what funny things they do, where they sleep. how often they have to walk them, and how often they have to poop. It gets worse as you progress the line because then it's moms showing you pictures of their kids. It's a similar thing to the dog people, except they tell you the bad things about their kids, too. Like how they only want to play Fortnite, and that their friend Alex is a bad influence, and how you found your Victorias Secret magazine in their underwear drawer. So after about 40 years of fake smiling and laughing and "Wow he/she is very cute." I finally arrive at what I assume is the fountain of peace and love, only to find that this McDonalds only offers Pepsi and Coke Zero. The hell wont reset until I cry trying to get back to my table to eat my food, but having to look at every ones animals (Children included in that sentiment) again.
So I guess you could say that you could put me into any hell where I have to make small talk. or where people are, and I wouldn't be happy. At all. I guess this means hell could be where I am. And maybe yours could be where you are...
That's bleak.
Maybe you're good enough that you won't go to hell, though. So if you are, that's great. However, if you are reading THIS blog, I doubt that very much.
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