Two women gaze at heavy surf while lying on boulders on the coast of Nova Scotia, December 1961.Photograph by Volkmar Wentzel, National Geographic
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Two women gaze at heavy surf while lying on boulders on the coast of Nova Scotia, December 1961.Photograph by Volkmar Wentzel, National Geographic
Super blue blood moon rises behind Parthenon, in Athens January 2018
how the fuck did the ancients react to this without thinking the gods were pissed
I want to be politically informed and educated but I also wanna have a good day and be in a good mood. Do you see my problem?
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after dying god informs you that hell is a myth, and âeveryone sins, its okâ. instead the dead are sorted into six âhouses of heavenâ based on the sins they chose.
We arrived first at the House of Lust. âHouseâ is a misleading term. It was more of a camp, spread over acres and acres of lush forest. There was a white sandy beach (nude, of course) full of copulating couples. There were little cabins sprinkled all along the path, from which orgasmic moans regularly came belting out. Men with six pack abs and women with perky breasts strolled by without even noticing me and God. They only had eyes for each other, tickling and pinching each other with flirtatious giggles.
âWhat do you think?â God asked as we passed a nineteen-way taking place in a pool of champagne. Little cherubs flitted overhead armed with mops and cleaning supplies, thankfully. âLust is our most popular sin.â I eyed the supermodel-like figures of a couple passing nearby, and could easily see why. âYou can look however you want. Hell, you can be whatever gender you want. No fetish is too taboo, and no desire can be denied here.â
It was quite tempting, but I wasnât ready to make a permanent decision here. âLetâs see the others,â I told God.
We carried on to Greed. We passed rows and rows of mansions, each more opulent than the next. Some of them were so large that they would have had enough bed rooms to fit my entire hometown. And so many different styles: one second, we were in a beautiful French vineyard in front of a gorgeous chateau with the Alps in the background. The next second, a warm tropical beach with a modern mansion atop breathtaking cliffs. After that, a ski chalet in Colorado with a roaring fire in a hearth large enough to fit an ox. Each one had various Italian sports cars and Rolls Royces parked in front, with the occasional smattering of boats, helicopters, etc.
âAny material desire you ever wanted,â God explained. âYour own world, where you can have everything. You want the Hope Diamond? You can fly to Washington DC in your own solid gold helicopter and buy it from the Smithsonian. Hell, you can just buy the Smithsonian.â
Also tempting, but I decided to keep looking.
Gluttony was next up. Tables and tables of the very finest foods: beautiful steaks cooked medium rare; butter-poached lobster tail; fresh oysters on a half shell; exotic wines in dusty bottles that had been hiding in the cellars of the worldâs finest restaurants. Everyone had a glass of champagne in hand and simply lounged on couches and chairs near the tables, eating endlessly. As soon as the inhabitants took a bite, the food just instantly came back. My mouth watered even watching them.
âIn every other House, the food is practically sawdust compared to Gluttony,â God explained. âYou havenât truly experienced heaven until youâve been to Gluttony.â
I shook my head, and we kept moving.
Sloth was as youâd expect. An endless sea of the softest mattresses, stacked with cushions and pillows that made the story of the princess and the pea seem minimalist. Little angels visited each resident, giving them massages that made them all melt into their blankets.
Wrath was⊠well, a lot like what Iâd expect Hell to be like. Fire, brimstone, whips, torture.. you know, the works. Except here, you werenât the one being tortured. Every enemy youâd ever made in your real life was now under your thumb. âLots of people choose their fathers,â God explained. âLots of grudges against parents in general, you know. But youâre not limited to that. Someone beat you out for a big promotion back on Earth? Take your pound of flesh here.â
Then we arrived at Envy. It looked⊠well, a lot like home.
âGo on in,â God said, gesturing toward the door. I turned the knob and walked in⊠and found Emily waiting inside. She ran forward, wrapped her arms around my neck, and planted a kiss right on my lips. âWelcome home, honey.â
I looked back toward God. âOh, donât be coy,â he said. âYou have no secrets from me. We all know that you were in love with your best friendâs wife.â She didnât seem to hear him at all; she went back into the hall. âWe all know that you just settled for your own wife while secretly pining after her. Well, this is your chance to live happily ever after.â
I peered into the kitchen. Emily was baking something, wearing nothing but an apron. Her curly black hair fell softly over her shoulder as she whisked ingredients. She turned back, noticed I was observing her, and an enthusiastic smile spread across her face.
âItâs what youâve always wanted, isnât it?â God whispered in my ear.
I wanted to take it. God damn did I want to take it. But I shook my head.
God seemed puzzled. âYou need to make a decision,â he told me.
âI havenât seen Pride yet.â
He scoffed. âNo one ever wants Pride, trust me.â
âWell, I want to see it.â
_________________________
Pride was boring. Just a row of workbenches in a bare white room.
âI donât get it,â I told God.
âYeah, no one does,â he answered. âThatâs why no one ever chooses it. Doesnât cavorting in Lust sound better than sitting here building little trinkets for the rest of eternity? Wouldnât you rather gorge yourself in Gluttony? Or spend time with Emily in Envy?â
I considered the options again. âI pick Pride,â I finally told him.
He narrowed his eyes. âWhat? Look at it!â He gestured around the room again. There wasnât much to look at. âWhy would you choose this for the rest of time?â
âBecause you donât want me to pick it,â I told him. If he was really God, heâd know what a contrarian I can be. And I knew he was hiding something, trying to pretend like Pride didnât exist. There was something special about it.
God scowled back. âFine.â He led me over to one of the workbenches. In the center, there was a black space. A blank, empty void that went on forever. âHereâs your universe,â he said. âYouâve got seven days to get started.â He took his seat at the bench next to me and went back to tinkering in his own world. After a long pause, he finally spoke again: âYou know, it might be nice for me to actually have some company for once.â
Hoooly shit, what a great ending.
10 beautiful Italian words
scrosciare (vb.): the action of rain pouring down or of waves hitting rocks and cliffs.
meriggiare (vb.): to rest at noon, more likely in a shady spot outdoors.
lapidoso (adj.): full of stones, said of roads or of the bottom of a river.
innaffiare (vb.): to water something, especially a garden, a plant, a flower, etc.
cruore (n.): it literally means âflowing bloodâ.
nottivago (n.): of a person who wanders at night; night-roamer.
terrifico (adj.): of something or someone that terrifies, that provokes terror.
ansare (vb.): to hardly breathe, to be out of breath.
nequizia (n.): moral wickedness or evil action.
morituro (adj.): of someone who is next or destined to die.
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