Rebirth of Reason


A Little Thoughtful Planning Can Make ALL the Difference!
by James Kilbourne

The injustice of the matter is what strikes me the hardest.  

I was resting comfortably in my room, warm and secure after a light lunch when it started. What a commotion! I was sure it was an earthquake, as I was being jostled and thrown about. I feared for my very life! Before I could gather my wits, I was thrust headfirst into a dark tunnel, propelled by a force the likes of which I had never felt. Suddenly, I was thrown into a room filled with blinding lights, brighter than anything I had ever experienced. Strange, deafening noises came simultaneously from all directions. I lay there powerless, unable to defend myself. I was completely naked and surrounded by solemn-looking men and women dressed in white, who prodded and pulled at me without the slightest regard for my comfort, let alone my composure. I tried to get back to my room, but they were merciless in their efforts to see that I didn’t succeed. Glancing around desperately, I managed to see past this gang of thugs. There were masked people everywhere, some clutching horrible weapons of torture. I was struggling for breath, twisting and turning to escape from them and from a chain that trailed from me back to my room. A calendar on the wall read July 8, 1944. And then the guy who seemed to be the head of the gang, with no provocation from me at all, just did it. He slapped me right across the ass! What the hell did I ever do to him?! 

When I am put in charge of sending humans through whatever up there they call the starting-line equivalent of the Pearly Gate, I will establish a much less hectic and much more dignified process. I mean, it really is a pretty good time down there on earth, all in all. It’s the trip there and back that needs the most work. But for today, since it is my birthday, let’s just work on the arrival part. For one thing, mood lighting would make a whale of a difference, and perhaps a little harp and light strings in the background, rather than someone screaming, “PAGING DR. FELDSTEIN!” And however many other improvements I am able to make, I am sure that a nice stiff Martini and some imaginative hors d’eouvres would be more than appreciated by the new arrivals. Rather than unprovoked violence, may I ask what would be wrong with having someone who sounds like Mr. Rogers cooing, “Welcome, James. We have been expecting you. We are delighted that you have decided to join us.”?
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