"Hell's low and Heaven's high."
--The Snake Pit
Years ago, when I still had the energy to seek out potential stories to write about and try and sell freelance, I tagged along with a pyrotechnics team staging a fireworks show from a barge in the middle of Lake Washington to entertain people attending a Microsoft party. It may even have been at Bill Gates' house. I had my camera with me and put it on a tripod with an open exposure and captured the image above. I always thought it looked like a scene from hell.
This is not to say that I know what hell looks like (though I have been to Salt Lake City). I do find it ironic that hell is always associated with heat and flames. Personally, I would have chosen some place like Antartica as hell. Just talk to one of those poor penquin poppa's that have to sit on an egg for months in subzero temperatures. I'm sure they would opt for some fire and brimstone.
I suppose it will be a cold day in hell before the bible thumpers would accept an icy hell versus a hot one. But isn't it a bit ironic that cremation is an accepted form of releasing the spirit from the body in many cultures, including parts of our own? It makes more sense than burying them in the ground (closer to hell) and hoping they'll make it to heaven.
There is no question that I want to be cremated (after I die of course). Oh sure, I don't get the tombstone, but let's be practical here. Having a tombstone doesn't guarantee you will be remembered. Tombstones are about as effective as having your name in the phone book for being remembered.
I haven't decided where I want my ashes scattered, though. That could be problematic. I don't want them sitting on a shelf. I don't want them dumped in the ocean (I'm not much of a swimmer). Maybe I should request that they be used to make bricks or glass or something that can be placed as part of a building. That would be kind of cool. It would have to be some useful building, though and not something stupid like a Jack in the Box.
I hate their commercials, by the way.
I wouldn't want to be part of a Walmart, either. Talk about going to hell. And I don't want to be part of a church. I'm not a hypocrite. Let's see...I've got it. I want to be cremated, have my ashes used to make a brick and be used to build a casino. Not in Las Vegas though. I want to be part of one these cool Pacific Northwest casinos. I want to be placed near the dollar slots. Not the nickels.
Consider this my living will. Because we all know where there is a will, there is a way.
I'd like that written on the brick.