[Cont.]
I’ve never witnessed any gangrene amputations here. I can’t recall ever seeing any resident lacking any functioning organ. Everybody appears to be in the best of health, both physically and mentally. Sometimes one’s memories fade, but that’s only after millennia; and if you ever forget your name, it’s printed right on your ankle bracelet.
The Devil is locked inside of a big flame in front of City Hall, so you don’t need to fear his temptations.
I repeat: there is no sickness, pain, or death in Heaven. There is no torment. No shortness of time. You never hear anyone moaning in agony. Nobody is driven insane. No one ever loses a loved one. Everyone cares about everyone here. Everyone is your friend. It may sound trite to say that we’re all one happy family, but it’s true; and it’s extremely beautiful to experience. There are no lonely places; no secluded pools where one can drown.
And you can ride from any given place to any another, very fast, despite this being a sprawling country, by simply taking that train that I told you about.
There are no putrid smells because nothing is putrefying. Nothing is charred because nothing got burned. There are no dead bodies piled up everywhere, because nobody committed that many homicides. No airborne attackers because there’s no war. All the bombs and grenades are locked away, and only God has the key.
There are magic forces in Heaven, but they’re all good: none are evil curses. The pestilence is not contagious. There is no mind control. No invisible crises to panic about. No aerosolized viruses. No weaponized mosquitos. I’ve never seen anyone vomit. All the food is really good here. There’s no human waste in the streets; neither is there waste from horses or dogs. There are no bird droppings on the statues. No one has a shy bladder, or problems with incontinence.
All the faces are pretty. Nobody has enormous boils. People don’t suffer from dizziness. No bus ever hit anyone here: the drivers are conscientious. No one’s brain ever exploded with insect eggs that all hatched at once.
The faucets all dispense crystal clear water, not blood. There is no Frog Plague, at least not that I am aware of. So there’s no messy slime on the floor, to make you slip when you step out of the bath.
That scene from Psycho, the 1960 film where the woman steals cash from her employer and then stops at a secluded motel – that would never happen here.
If there were ever any metal killing chambers in Heaven, they have all been transformed into places where one can sit alone and drink. And they all have free wireless Internet now, so you can use a text-message interface to chat with other friendly strangers online.
One time, my friend and I got locked inside a metal killing chamber, and we thought that we were going to die, but we escaped. This was back on Earth.
Everyone is sympathetic here in Heaven. If a fellow citizen happens to notice that you are crying, that person will come over and cry with you, until you are done.
Every park bench is equipped with a button that you can push: this causes the ground in front of you to open up, and a platform rises on which are displayed various plastic models: these are old mannequins from storefront windows; they are dressed in styles from the past; you can ponder their appearance.
Somewhere in Heaven hangs a painting depicting that place on the grass where a fight once took place. (Since conflict is rare here, this is a cultural memento.)
The most you ever will need to wait for anything here is thirty minutes.
Cowboys from Hell came and took the baby from the manger. They tossed it into the well, but God got it back.
The screams here are always only screams of contentment.
§
The spiked walls that move around are for making large batches of pasta.
The water here in Heaven, as I keep mentioning, is crystal clear, so it does not irritate your eyes like the chlorinated swimming pools on Earth; therefore, your eyes will not sting after taking a dip. And there’s a lake-sized tub to swim in, which is not dangerous.
If you see people wearing hoods, it’s not because they are planning to steal from you: they are only protecting their head from the rain. And the rusted circular saws are for gardening.
There is a furnace for baking bread. The clamps are for securing lumber, when you need to saw logs.
The lever that you can pull causes a battering ram to appear. It weighs twelve metric tons. It is made of cold steel.
If you go into the wardrobe area of Heaven, you can get a cloak. Take it and wear it: it’s free. It can make you invisible.
You can get your teeth fixed, if they are less than perfect. Say they’re not white enough: you can get them whitened.
Heaven is great because you never run out of breath here. You can run as fast as your legs can carry you, for as long as you like, and you will not feel winded. There is a lot of farmland here.
Call for help, wherever you happen to be, and someone will fetch you. They will make sure that blood is not gushing out of your body. Even if you do not have a deep puncture wound from a spear, concerned nurses will attend to you. They will go so far as to put bandages on perfectly healthy skin, which has not a scratch on it, just to be doubly sure that you don’t bleed out.
If you ever close your eyes and hope to die, Jesus will talk you out of your dark mood. Even though he is Heaven’s king, he will take time out of his schedule to do this: always. You are his priority. (If the citizens are not happy, this reflects poorly on their leader.) Even if you speak so softly that no one can hear you, or if you pray only inside your mind, without moving your lips, the man will respond.
You never need to drag heavy chains around behind you in Heaven, because your shackles all get cut off with a hacksaw from the moment you enter. And the streets are all gold here, like I said.
You don’t need to step gingerly around suspicious looking places, such as spots of ground where straw or corn is scattered, because there are no boobytraps in Heaven. No one is trying to entangle you in a snare, or snap your neck.
§
It is true that the blood of Jesus Christ can be used as a cleaning agent, however strange that sounds. So there is a fountain of blood in the center of town, and women are encouraged to go there and bathe.
All the little children that went to Heaven are grown up now. There are no “minors” or underage persons here: everyone is mature.
Are there mice in heaven? Maybe so; but I’ve never seen any. If there are mice here, then they keep out of sight and never make any noise. I’ve never found any signs of them; there are no nests or pellets. Maybe they’re just extremely clean. They might have their own little corner of Heaven where they all live. I know there are elephants in the eastern region of Heaven. Maybe the mice are all out west. But I’m sure they wouldn’t want to share an afterlife with humans, anyway: they are as scared of us as we are of them – and they dislike the way we smell.
And I forgot to mention: You can use the crystal water of Heaven to remove stubborn stains.
A tornado comes through only once every ten years; that’s how safe this place is.
If anything gets atomized, God can put it back together. There are television screens located strategically throughout the public places, in case we all desire to watch a show together, such as a holiday special.
We sing a lot, too. There are real jingle bells here, shaken by real Santas. (“Santa” means “female saint from Spain or Italy.”) And reindeer are employed to deliver presents to good children on Christmas Eve. As I explained, these children have all entered adulthood, by now; but they are still good, thus they still receive their gifts.
Nothing ever becomes mangled or eradicated. Nothing ever goes rancid.
There is never a group-execution of thousands or millions of people. No one ever gets “bumped off.” (We no longer even use that phrase “bumped off” – I’m not sure what it means.) So, there are consistently low national carnage statistics.
We use fresh cloth to wrap cheese. Delivery trucks don’t smash into each other. There’s no mass hysteria. The sky never rains harpoons. There’s never a worldwide shortage of celery. No weeping, no gnashing of teeth. We always have enough hamburger meat to get us through the winter.
This is a place of revival and hope. It contains many brainwaves of multiple colors, if you could see them. A machine at the center of City Hall helps you breathe, and it makes sure that your heart keeps pumping. The neurotransmission rates are off the charts, here: everyone has a very sharp response to stimuli.
There’s a lot of fun to be had. If anyone goes braindead, you can just pull a cord, and the system resets: it’s like switching on a lightbulb.
Keep the doors shut, and all the rooms remain a comfortable temperature. There is a pyramid with a bed inside, where God sleeps. The only time anyone ever wakes up with a knife in their head is on Halloween, most likely as a prank.
Your bloodline never freezes inside your veins, or else that machine in City Hall will just thaw you out. Jesus also can help.
If a vehicle ever goes spinning out of control, there is a golden probe that levitates over and uses magnetism to soothe everything. And broken glass is swept up immediately. If stitches are ever removed from a cut, you can never tell where they were, because the flesh heals flawlessly. And if you happen to see snake-headed witches, they are always very nice; they have an excellent bedside manner.
Unlike on Earth, the labs in Heaven keep human eggs in their own container: they do not mix them with the fish eggs. This is a better way to do things. And they also use separate bottles for propane and Novocain.
The zombies who cannot resurrect are put to sleep in ornate caskets, and they are given a respectful burial. No one knows why zombies exist. If God can solve this enigma, he will bring them back from being undead (or half-dead, or whatever it is), and help them to walk and talk with suave normalcy again.
Here and there, you will find grapes in baskets. Take and eat them: that’s what they’re there for.
And unlike earthly justice, we do not practice capital punishment; in Heaven, God forgives without torture. So, that is not our King Jesus hanging on the cross: that is only a straw man, also known as a scarecrow. Crows are the only creatures prohibited from Heaven.
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