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Permanent Vacation Homes on the Lake of Fire

November 19, 2010

Years ago, I had an unemployed roommate declare that if Hell did exist, he would stand on a hill in the inferno, above the sinners that tormented and refused to help throughout his hard and sad life, and piss on everyone. The man was very enterprising and always made the best of bad situations, even if he manufactured them. His difficulty finding a job soured him against believing any goodness existed in anyone. He consoled himself with curses, saying a great leveling of souls was due and felt his own wickedness allotted him a modicum of privilege in an even more dire afterlife.

Typically feeling contradictory, I suggested that if there is a place called Hell, I imagine eternal punishment as a personal, subjective experience, or at least democratic (in the sense of “people at large,” not a political slant). My poor friend was good at heart. He didn’t, and probably couldn’t, acquire any substantial evil, or even clout, with a bad deed. I never meant to dissemble his metaphor for overcoming overwhelming trials, but the image my roommate conjured sparked my imagination. Like the experience with monsters in my sketchbooks, I thought of how a place such as Hell could exist. My brain churned possible scenarios. My Pazuzu Trilogy eventually admits God took Hell with Him when He went away. Alien gods arrived with their own Hell, one of my invention. I figure, constructing a plane of perpetual torment elevates me a step higher than my past roommate, so I least I won’t be caught in his spray of vengeful condemnation.

A consequence in the belief in Hell is the realization that God pretty much said He didn’t build dormitories in Heaven – no Socialism in the skies above. A vast majority of people surrounding me have already built permanent vacation homes on the Lake of Fire. I’m not being judgmental. Everyone knows their place – my ex-roommate evidently did. Even if feelings of evil and guilt are fleeting, one must remember, God is all-powerful, He must exist outside time and space. From His perspective, sins are timeless and never forgotten. Whence stems my own grandiose feelings of righteousness, but that topic strays from the exploration of Hell. Anyway, I’ve probably watched too much of David Tenant’s incarnation of the Doctor on Doctor Who.

My own purposeful sensitivity to untruthfulness suggests practically everyone I meet are ticket holders to a fiery retirement from life. Catholicism made the observation millenniums ago, which is why flocks of the pious are regularly rustled to confession. Penitence, not good deeds, will apparently spare a soul from Hell. Looking more closely at the exception, I can’t help but think this award system for an afterlife is unfair. I must remember, the other half of confession is forgiveness, which absolves past harm. Personally, I have a problem with forgiveness, mainly in that harm can rarely be undone, slights are personal and forever blemish a soul. But, being agnostic, I banter about good and evil.

I have to temper my imaginative deductions. My rant borders on wraith and vengeance as a path toward redemption, which sounds downright Jihadist. My creative energy, though negative, was poured into my Pazuzu Trilogy. In the story, I illustrate the sinfulness of mankind and bring Hell and Apocalypse to the unrepentant of a godless world. Despite, the incorporation of monsters from my college sketchbooks, the books are clear. Mankind reaps righteous, visceral carnage from itself.


Pazuzu Trilogy by Matthew Sawyer

 

Purchase Pazuzu Trilogy Pocket books and Hardcovers at LULU.

 

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