© Neil Bennett Photography 2020.
Politics - be careful what you believe!
An individual died and shortly thereafter found himself standing in front of St Peter. St Peter told the individual that there had been some recent changes on how new arrivals were handled and this person had the choice of spending eternity in either Heaven or Hell. He would spend a day in each place then report back to St Peter to announce his decision. This sounded OK so he elected to spend the first day in Hell. St Peter showed him the elevator and down the new arrival went.
Turns out it was pretty nice. He stepped out of the elevator onto a very nice golf course and it couldn’t have been better - a number of his old friends were there, greeted him then they played a round of golf on an excellent course. After golf they enjoyed a very good meal at the clubhouse with great wines and big stogies. He was serenaded by his favorite old bands and his friends told him that pretty much every day was like this “down here in Hell”.
Soon his day was over and he went back up the elevator to spend his day in Heaven. St Peter met him to show him the door to Heaven and in he went. Well, it was nice for sure, in a pleasant sort of way - floating around on clouds reading esoteric books, listening to a lot of harp music and having “heavenly” meals.
Soon this day was over as well and he reported back to St Peter to announce his decision. “So,” said St Peter, “which will it be?”. The new arrival had decided that as nice as Heaven was, Hell seemed more to his liking so he was going to select Hell. St Peter waved him goodbye at the elevator doors and down he went.
Things had changed when the doors opened. The weather alternated between being like the deserts of Saudi Arabia, to being like Ft Nelson in January, to like working on the west coast of BC in a howling rain storm. When it rained his rain gear leaked, when it was hot he didn’t have enough water and when it was cold his jacket just wasn’t anywhere near warm enough. Lunch looked like a can of old SPAM. The clubhouse had burned down and all his old friends were actively employed in trying to keep ahead of the trash that was continually dropping out of the sky. It was awful.
He couldn’t believe this so he went to find the devil to ask why it was so different than a couple of days ago. The devil responded: “Yesterday we were campaigning”.
2015 equivalents of Cervantes’ mayors?