Here’s an idea that I thoroughly deplore: reincarnation. Not for me. Not today, thank you.
Once I’ve handed in my dinner pail, as P.G. Wodehouse put it, just bung me on a cloud forever with a harp and a YouTube video of how to play Purple Haze by Jimi Hendrix.
I’ve canvassed the opinion of pals on this subject, and none would come back.
It’s a right struggle
Think about it: the basic premise of this earthly existence is that everything eats everything else. It’s all a right struggle. There’s nothing for nothing. You never get a minute’s peace.
Compare and contrast with a heavenly paradise offering free fish suppers and no midges. Leave that to come back here? You’re having a giraffe.
I witter thus on witnessing a seagull on a rock. Don’t know if it’s always the same one.
At any rate, there’s always one down on the Lonely Shore. He doesn’t fly off until I get right close.
Possibly he recognises me: ‘It’s that beardie bloke again. Just sits on a rock and stares out to sea. Takes all sorts, I suppose.’
Eh? Self-aware much? That’s what the gull does himself. Sometimes, we’re both just sat there, on our respective rocks.
Then it hit me…
And that’s when it hit me: ‘That’s what I’ll get reincarnated as: a gull sitting on a rock by the shore. Same as I currently do.’
Don’t fancy it, to be honest. At least, at present, I can go home and have my tea, whereas I never see the gull eat anything.
Maybe they find stuff first thing in the morning and just spend the rest of the day philosophising.
Certainly, this fellow on the Lonely Shore is far removed from those urban ones stealing folk’s chips. Maybe creatures like that get used to hunger.
I’m sure there are spiders and other weird beasties that can go weeks or months without so much as a pie.
Boredom in Heaven
I suppose, in Heaven, you’d get bored with free, healthy fish suppers after a while.
Boredom would be a problem in paradise. But you could always try smoked sausage for a bit. Maybe even broccoli tastes … heavenly.
Like all well-adjusted people, I read a lot about life after death. Most classics of this genre were written many years ago now, and it’s slightly discombobulating to see these often refer to libraries in Heaven where you, the deid, can go and consult physical books.
No Kindles in eternity. No internet. That seems to me a flaw in a place that’s meant to be timeless. How come they didn’t see that coming? Besides, libraries are just glorified creches nowadays. Last place you’d go for some quiet study.
The Heaven you want
But, still, I like the idea of an old-fashioned library. I imagine it with a neo-classical exterior and, inside, a massive domed hall, stout oak desks, an ice cream kiosk.
Maybe you get the Heaven you want: rolling fields, beautiful gardens, proper architecture, no rap music.
I could go for that. And when they say, “Right, you, it’s time to go back doon to Earth and sit on a rock again”, I shall refuse.
I shall say: “I’m biding here, ken?” And they’ll say: “Suit yourself. But it’ll take you an eternity to learn Purple Haze by Jimi Hendrix.”
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