PlainOleMike's Nine Rings of Hell-ular

The other day, I had a friend tell me to go to Hell. He didn't mean it, there was no urging me to book a trip on Expedia or anything, it was all just good natured ribbing, but even so, it got me thinking. What is Hell? There's hundreds of literary and Hollywood versions of it. Meet Joe Black, Family Guy, Bill and Ted, South Park, The Marquis de Sade, sitting through all fourteen hours that were Steven Speilburg's A.I. However, the grand-daddy of all that is the underworld comes from "The Divine Comedy." The classic version of Satan's rumpus room.

That grand old chap Dante made himself all famous simply for writing about Hell. Dante envisioned the land of H, E, double hockey sticks as a big funnel extending down into the center of the Earth, kind o flike a giant beer bong with burning flesh and tortured souls instead of the frosty brew and scantily clad co-eds. If Dante were MapQuest, he'd probably direct you to Jerusalem or there abouts to start your Netherworld treasure map, personally, I'm pretty certain he's off my a few thousand kilometers. My best guess is that the eternal lava pits are simmering just to the left of Washington.

Dante's beer bong is made up of nine circles, with that I can agree,but I don't think Dante had Mr. Orwell's eye for the future. I don'tt hink he fully thought out the multitude of future sins the human race would come up with. He had this part right, the first circle is the widest and they get smaller and smaller, less and less crowded until the ninth circle, which is a little tiny room, kind of like TheUnderworld's half bath. Dante and all the subsequent Dantephiles and Danteholics that supported his visions over the years needed a pair of fresh eyes, therefore, I've taken it upon myself to revamp Hell. This is a Hell for the modern world.

1st circle: Limbo. In Dante's brain, Limbo is for the folks who never found God, the ignorant; the unbaptized, savages, Carrot Top, and the like. Other than Mr. Top, who has punished all of us quite enough, I don't reallybelieve these folks deserve Hell. Instead, Limbo is for those that have committed lesser crimes, they won't necessarily burn in the eternal fires, but their seat is uncomfortably close. Limbo's population will be made up of people who wear pants you can easily fit three or four people into, parents who let their preteen daughters dress like extras from "Betty Jo is a Filthy Filthy Whore: The Musical," and celebrities that incite people to ask, "why is this person famous, and why won't they go away?" Also down there, in the forever limbo (which by the way does have an all Harry Belafonte all the time soundtrack) will be PeOpLe WhO TyPe LiKe ThIs, anyone who tears articles out of waiting room magazines, and every single beingthat has ever uttered the words, "would you like to take part in a short one to two minute telephone survey?"

Sure, you have rapists, murderers, little boy diddling clergymen, crack dealers, Michael Jackson, and all their ilk. I'm not going tof orget about them. Let's just go ahead and throw them into Hell's urinal right now, go ahead and assume these people are damned to an afterlife of eternal swirlie. These folks go without saying, my concern, though, is the remaining eight Hellevels. Like one of those freakishly limber Gong Show contestants with nineteen hula hoops, Hell has more rings we need to discuss.

2nd circle: This is the merely uncomfortable level. This is the level of eternal smacks across the face. Never ending sting of the cheek. Ring number two is reserved solely for souls that encounter cell phone static and ask their conversation partner (fully expecting a laugh)"can you hear me now?" Enough. Ring two may not be deep, but no one will hear you, except Satan's minions who will slap the crap out of you. Your comaptriots: people who over spout Saturday Night Live catch phrases. They will be seated in a slightly disagreeable chair next to you.

3rd circle: Every single time I go to the grocery store I see future residents of this very special ring. These are the people who, at insane volume levels, have one very loud side of a conversation on their cell phones for every one around them to hear. These people, since they lack the gene that controls discretion will be forced to parade naked in front of Howard Stern (oh come on, you know he'll be down there) for all eternity. Howie and his boys will teach you the lesson of keeping it to yourself by broadcasting your flaws and faults to all of the afterlife. In the 3 ring convoy will be the folks sneaking sixty eight items into the express lane and that moron who can't figure out the self check out, but insists on getting to it just before me.

4th circle: Living it up in Fourthringville will be all the people who use the Nextel BOOOODOOOP walkie talkie phones in public places. Again the grocers, the mall, the gas station, the bus, the train... Could Nextel have come up with a more obnoxious sound? I can't watch that scene in Dumb and Dumber anymore without expecting Jim Carey to pull out his mobile phone. It's okay, you'll have people to talk to on that level - the guy who decided that you can't control the volumeof the BOOOOOOODOOOOP noise and all of corporate Nextel will be walkie-ing and talkie-ing with you. For all eternity you will be whipped with ham radio antennas while being forced to listen to 1970's big rig CB chatter and watch "Smokey and the Bandit 2" over and over and over and over and over. 10-4?

5th circle: This fifth circle of hell is earmarked for the people who, in very inappropriate places; like church, class, meetings..., forget to turn the ringer off. No, that in itself is not a sin, that's a mistake, a forgetfulness issues, a reason to eat more zinc or carrots or whatever it is that improves memory. The criminals here are those that hear their phones go off in these inappropriate places and let them ring and ring and ring and ring. Sure, sometimes they give a sheepish, apologetic smile, but do they get off their butts and make it so we don't have to hear a synthesized cell phone version of "Holla Back Girl?" No, they do not. So, they will be drafted into Hell's marching band, where they will perform cell phone beeping button versions of Journey's greatest hits until their thumbs are numb, then they get to start in on the REO Speedwagon catalog. Roommates: people who are still doing impressions of or quoting Napolean Dynamite or Austin Powers and the actual Napolean Dynamite.

6th circle: This is a personal vendetta ring. Anyone who has answered a cell phone during a face to face conversation with me. This has happened countless times: at the book store register while I was cashiering, while I was talking to a table I was waiting on, the bank teller even did it to me once, my own friends have done it during dinner at restaurants... I've seen it happen in church, and it even happened during a parent/teacher conference the other day. It is a vicious, indescribably rude act. Due to the high instance of this sin being committed at dining establishments, these folks will spend the after life eating waiter-spit-soup in the company of people who don't hold elevator doors and those that leave their pets in the car during summer.

7th circle: It's quite passe to be vindictive against people who talk on the phone while they drive, and I myself am guilty of it, so I don't reserve this circle for just any driving phone talkers; this is for the people who are actually distracted enough by the telephone to have it cause safety issues. If you're alone, chat away, but if there are any of the following things taking place, welcome to level 7: kids in the car with you, you're a teenager talking to other teenagers who are also driving, you have a hamburger in the other hand, you are talking to someone that is actually in the car with you, you are within ten miles of home, you have caused an accident in the past, or you are applying make-up and/or shaving. Your hell will be equipped with crash test dummy driven vehicles repeatedly smashing into your cellphone talking ass while they endlessly sing, in their metallic robot voices, the chorus of the Crash Test Dummies song, "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm." Extra volume on the song for thosewho A. Palm Pilot with that stupid little pen or B. Text with that incessant thumb typing while piloting a motor vehicle.

8th circle: A special table for a select few. Everyone here will inexplicably have their cell phone clipped to their belt. Why they don't move it mere millimeters into pocketland, no one can comprehend. Who could possibly be calling that needs your attention milliseconds quicker than a hand into pocket maneuver takes? Since these folks think they're some sort of modern day communication device gunslingers, their forever will be spent with PDA styluses under their fingernails, ridden by spur wearing cowpokes, and being constantly antagonized by rodeo clowns. Along for the rodeo will be any one that wears a beret (non-military) and most of the four AM Denny's customers.

9th circle: This is it, this is the big boy. This is reserved for the utmost of utmost sins. The pickings will be slim, but the tortured souls wandering this level for the hereafter will be people who, when they are not actually talking on the phone, wear the hands free headset or the "Blue Tooth" into completely unnecessary situations. If you keep the ear piece in during youth sporting events, church, walking around stores, or the biggest sin I've yet witnessed, into the movie theater, you will take the elevator down and hit the big round number nine. Hell will not be a picnic for you, so leave your basket behind. You'll be greeted each morning with an army of failed dental assistants who will spend the day shoving inappropriate things into your ear; like cats, your elbow, and Austrian pop star Falco. Your dance partner will be Simon from American Idol and those pseudo-Christian nut jobs from The AmazingRace.

Dante was a fine writer, a creative man, and a wee bit on this side of wacky. He had the right idea, but he needed himself a flux capacitor and a glimpse of the future to see the real crimes against humanity. If you, yourself, are guilty of any of these sins, do yourself a favor, repent. Say a couple of Hail Marys, knock off a few Lord'sPrayers, maybe even recite that Crash Test Dummies song for good measure, there is still hope for you. Can you hear me now?

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Dr. Bunsen Honeydew and the Creation of the Universe

Religious revelations aren’t rare now a days, even though my friend Owen walks around wearing a t-shirt that reads, “I found Jesus. He was behind the couch,” not everyone’s spiritual awakenings are quite so sarcastic. A good friend of mine recently found religion, which has led to some interesting conversations and deeper thoughts than I usually allow myself to have. Deep thoughts are dangerous, because it usually leads to writing, and writing contains typing, and with typing I risk carpal tunnel. And there lies my dilemma, my buddy Josh is suddenly an amateur preacher and I concern myself with subsequent keyboard related mishaps, like typing so fast that a quick flick of the wrist causes the P to shoot off my laptop and strike me in the eyeball (and of course I mean the letter P key, not a stream of urine suddenly erupting from my keyboard – while both would be unfortunate, one would make for an amusing anecdote, while the other might burn like all get out and void my manufacturer’s warranty). Anyway, Josh’s metamorphosis has led to some interesting conversations and some soul searching about some very deep topics.

When it comes the battle royale that happens when science and religion meet, I’ve always had this mental picture of God as a mad scientist. Forgive me if this seems blasphemous, but as a child of the ‘70s and ‘80s many of life’s difficult to tackle topics take the form of Muppet skits in my television saturated brain. I know Jim Henson lacked the desire/balls/career-suicidal-tendencies to attempt this one, but I can’t help but conjure up an image of Dr. Bunsen Honeydew (who I just now realized has a very honeydew melon like head) as our Lord Almighty. Of course that would leave us with Beaker as Jesus, which takes this concept up the ladder to a much more blasphemous, yet entirely hilarious, level. Anyway, a bumbling Christ with a test tube shaped head who lacks the ability to form coherent words aside, back in 1979, Dr. Honeydew mixing a little of this and a little of that, lighting the Bunsen burner, preventing Beaker from spilling some boiling concoction that is destined to become mankind all over the lab floor, pouring this solution into that compound in just the right proportions so that, despite the wacky antics of his meep-meep-meeping sidekick, he’s made the heavens, the Earth, and the platypus – all of this done with surprisingly nimble fingers considering the fact that he’s a felt puppet.

To me the melding of science and religion has always been sort of a no-brainer. It could be in part because Father Tom, the family priest, and Mrs. Robinson, my 5th grade science teacher, resembled each other in such a way that that statement isn’t flattering to either of them. It could also be because my mind has always had a strange gift for connecting different parts of my life – A sermon on Noah would have me conjuring up images of family zoo trips and my ridiculously huge stash of mail-ordered “Safari Cards.” Daniel and the Lion’s Den sent me straight to PBS nature shows. The concept of water into wine had me plotting midnight pantry raids to see just which herbs and spices from my mom’s cabinet would give me the same power (I never did figure out how to do it, but in case you ever wondered – chicken bouillon cubes and 7-Up, not so good). – It could also be because no one bothered to tell a curious young Mike that (just like chicken stock and lemon/lime soda) you aren’t supposed to mix religion and science.

I know there are creationists out there who deny science had any part in the origin of the world. Like Newman and Kramer insisting that Keith Hernandez was indeed the “lone spitter,” these folks seem in constant denial – concocting all sorts of “they fabricated the dinosaurs/there was no moon landing/carbon dating is a ploy to brainwash us all into buying microwave ovens, strive for the perfect robot, and subscribe to OMNI magazine” conspiracy theories to discredit science. Some of these religious extremists interpret the bible a wee bit more literally than perhaps it was intended. Really, seven days for all this?

The authors of the bible, with all their songs and psalms and tales and yarns and fables, had a bit of a flair for the dramatic. I don’t think it’s a stretch to think that many of them just may have taken a bit of poetic license with their stories, and just like Hansel and Gretel is an super-Xtreme-over the top “don’t take candy from strangers” tale, some of bible stories may amp up the “wow factor” a bit to get their point across. Did God create the universe in 7 days? Well it seems kind of convenient that he used the exact number of days that mankind would later come to know as a week. Doesn’t it seem more plausible that Genesis is an allegory, a fable, a story based in fact, but written with a lesson in mind? Doesn’t a protagonist with a magic zappy finger demanding light and water and earth and sky and zebras and bullion cubes and 7-Up into existence make for a much more riveting and awe inspiring story than an faceless power that uses a cosmic whisk to stir up the flour, butter, and sugar of the universe to make “existence cake” in some sort of higher power version of 30 Minute Solar Systems? A boring story without a humanlike leading man might not have had the same affect. A moment by moment play by play of evolution doesn’t have the same zing as voices from above willing creation to begin.

Now, on the other hand, there are scientists who question the existence of God and the power of Christ. In a world where there are many inexplicable things: frogs that change gender mid-life (like an amphibian RuPaul, only with less mascara), male seahorses that give birth, creatures that regrow severed body parts, chemicals that cure disease, the sphincter, Georgie W. being elected twice… Why do so many people find the possibility of one man being able to walk on water, heal the sick, and rise from the dead so unlikely? To risk blasphemy once again for the sake of argument – say there is an explanation for Jesus’ strange abilities – say J.C. was the David Blaine of his time. Say he wasn’t powerful, just super tricky. Maybe he didn’t really reconfigure the water molecules into fermented grape juice. Maybe he didn’t really take a stroll across the lake. Maybe he didn’t have a magical bread multiplying ability. Maybe he was just a really good showman with a special knack for the sleight of hand/foot/loaf/winejug. Maybe he couldn’t heal with his hands; perhaps it was a skill with medicines. Maybe he didn’t rise from the dead, but pulled some sort of switcheroo on us all. Even if Jesus was an olden days version of David Copperfield, why is it difficult to believe that those skills, those abilities, that “which hand is the basket of fishies in” power was God’s gift? How come there are so many out there willing to believe that aliens wander the universe, artificially intelligent robots are a possibility, man-made plagues can wipe out the planet, cool black guys (with a little effort) can teach even the most uncoordinated white guy to dance, and many other Will Smith movie plots, but they refuse to accept the possibility that there was a sentient being that stirred the initial pot?

It may not seem terribly clear which side I’m arguing for or against here, and that’s the point. It’s like the concept of the egg and the chicken. It doesn’t matter which came first – what matters is how did the first one get there? Did science create it? Did God create it? Did God create science or science create God? You can’t have chickens without eggs, or eggs without chickens, or God without science, or science without God, or Dr. Bunsen Honeydew without Beaker, or bullion cubes without 7-Up. It doesn’t matter which came first, what matters is they are. They both are.

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