Our immortal soul

Most people seem to worry about the Here-after; few people are losing any sleep over the Here-fore. Now, isn’t that just a wee bit weird; that fourteen billion years – give or take a couple of minutes – of death don’t concern us at all, simply because … it happened in the past!? ‘Oh, that!? Oh, that’s over and done with, mate! Just forget about it! Let bygones be bygones!’

Consequently, one would suppose that people feel quite comfortable as well about what happens next – about what will happen to their visitor from outer space(?), to their so-called immortal soul, after life. As our internal ET himself will in all probability be quite at ease with the prospect: Okay, everything back to normal – seen it, done it, got the T-shirt!
But, no, none of that. On the contrary, most people raise hell over heaven!

There are even people who don’t want to live their life to the fullest, because of the alleged(!) afterlife. Memento mori, they say. Which means as much as that for example(!) every boner that is not used properly (which is, for procreation only) could easily mean a one-way ticket straight to hell.

Okay, let me try to get this straight. A so-called immortal soul descends from … – yeah, what, from where? Okay, let us say, for argument’s sake, from – heaven and slips into a mortal body. Nobody seems to have a theory about how the hell those souls came into existence (at the Big Bang?) or how they were conceived. As it seems, they simply are being there.

The next question is: when? At what time exactly do they slip into our body?
Has it been at our conception or was it when we were born? Or do they say: ‘Hang on, hang on! Is that a viable skin we’ve got there, is that body actually worth our voyage, or is the motherfucker going to die on us as soon as we slip into it? Let’s wait for a couple of hours(?), days(?), weeks(?), months(?), years(?), and see what happens! We don’t want to waste an instant of our precious eternity, do we now; we don’t want to have to go back to (boring!) heaven before we have seen some action – before we have, let us say, wasted a perfectly good boner!’

Next question. Do they get to choose at all? Or are they finding out what they’ve gotten themselves into along the way?
‘Now, who in God’s(!) name gave me Billy bloody Graham!?’
By the same token, the poor soul has been slipped into the body of a porn-star – then it’s really f…, innit!?
‘Go straight to HELL! Do not (pass) COME! Do not collect $200!’
Sorry, immortal soul, that’s life for you! Next time pick your mortal body a bit more carefully, will you!

‘Hang on, hang on, hang on! Wait just a fucking minute! Did you actually say ‘next time’ just now!? So, death (or hell in my fucking case) is not eternal, then!?’
Depends! You’re a Buddhist by any chance? Just asking. Because, if you are a christian … well, you know, you’re pretty much f…, you see. They – christians, I mean – used to be very enthusiastic acolytes of reincarnation. However, they gave it up, for some reason or other. I guess, they did not enjoy life. Well, what can one do? Free will and all that shit, you know.
‘Come on, give me a break here! Cut me some slack, will ye! I was having so much fun in life, it’s heaven on earth over here. Is it my fault that I accidentally slipped into the mortal body of some fucking christian? Can’t I please convert to Buddhism!? Hinduism then?’
No can do, mate!
‘Fuck you!’

Epilogue
If you by any chance were enjoying the kind of bullshit that I just made up, you should probably go and talk to a true believer.
Though ‘talk’ in that case may be a bit of an overstatement. For, as a rule they don’t like to listen, you see. They are ‘programmed’ to merely grind out what they were being fed when they were kids.
Better, let them do all the talking; then the bullshit really hits the fan. You’ll see.

But, once again, I simply can’t seem to get my mind around, why we should worry about the fate of some … uh, parasite(?) that penetrated … uh, invaded our body at a very tender age. I mean, it’s as if at some point in life we cease to be ourselves, and turn into that immortal … thingy that we were infected with at the beginning of our lives. Now, where is the sense in that? What is the logic? Or is that line of behavior simply rooted in our innate fear of … death?

Finally, I want to apologize for the poor choice of words of the soul in today’s post – that ain’t soul, man, that’s only Rock ‘n’ Roll (and I like it, like it, yes I do)!