I have religion. A new one. Those Pastafarians think they
are hot stuff, but I have something better.
My chapter 1, verse 1: “Heaven
is what you make it,” My oversized coffin will be stuffed with a donut maker, a
good set of wrenches and classic a Moto Guzzi, and an espresso machine, one of
the big Italian jobs.
Coins over the eyes were good for the old religions to get
you across, but I raised my sights. Chuck’s heaven will last through
all eternity with endless donuts, infinite caffeine and never-ending back
country roads cutting through the clouds. Best of all, who needs a helmet or
insurance when they're already dead. Whoopee.
This religion will have wondrous effects:
- People will have something to look forward to. Current religion is watered down or full of hellfire and brimstone. No one, except psychopaths and, at the risk of being redundant, the Trumps believe that they will make it through the pearly gates. Everyone worries and hangs on to this life even if the world is in tatters. My new religion will ease the passing. And make the next world something you deserve. Or at least want.
- People will buy a shitload of stuff they want to take with them. This will help the economy.
- Archeologists will have a heyday in a thousand years digging tombs full of Beyoncé albums, Rumbas, iPhones, smart massage chairs, and God-knows what all.
But this religion needs two things:
- A name. Something catchy. Help me with suggestions.
- A millennial Saint Paul or maybe a Joel Osteen with their fancy private jets for getting the masses tuned in.
Help. Give me ideas for a name. And let me know if you want
to be a big booster. If nothing else, then set up a go fund me to get us
off the ground.
