As a kid, I remember sitting in the back of the bus and overhearing a little friendly elementary school discussion on whether it would be better to go to heaven or hell. It was a general consensus that hell was much more preferable. In hell you'd get to play Nintendo all day and have fun, whereas in heaven you had to sing church songs all day. No one disputed these claims.
The subject of death and what happens thereafter is one of my larger sand traps in this whole existential crisis debacle. I don't know if it'd be more comforting, but I think it'd be a lot more simple (and honest?) if everyone just shrugged their shoulders and gave it a good ol' "I don't know" when asked what happens after death. At least there'd be some sort of recognized starting place. Commiseration or something.
Rather, though, there are a million different versions of heaven and hell... choose your own adventure. If you're Mormon you can claim your own planet. Hitler earns a special amount of teeth grinding. Dogs can go to heaven, too, if you're the parent of a child with questions. At funerals, it is generally accepted that the recently deceased is in a better place (bow head solemnly, nod, feel comfort). Skeptics say we're all just energy and brain sparks. Walt Whitman told us to look for him under our boot soles... every sprout an indication that the past generations live on.
I don't claim to have a clue what goes on after death. If there is some sort of judgement, though, I'd like to believe that whoever is holding the gavel would know me well enough to know that I'd like to know, truly, what the rules are and why it's not so easy to find them... I hope it'd count that I'm trying.
And if there isn't an afterlife, I suppose I'd better make sure that I get my fill of playing Nintendo and song singing while my brain is still sparking.
