[ WP ] A device has been invented that allows the user to gaze upon Heaven or Hell . Hell is terrifying , and those who see it often need counselling . But their terror pales compared to those who witness God 's domain .

What it all comes down to is - it's an easy decision, right? 
 
 Would you rather gaze upon a thing of infinite beauty, or one of infinite ugliness? You'd choose the beauty. You'd choose to bask in it, to drink in the sight of lush grass and rain-scented earth and blue skies. Bare skin, freely bestowed smiles. A love that is n't marred by jealousy. An innocence that does n't have to die. 
 
 They do n't understand, those men and women who stand before the Great Periscope and pick without a second doubt. 
 
 Hey, do n't look at me - I'm simply the Guardian. I'm the operator on this crazy carnival ride. I do n't tell you whether or not to go - my job is to warn you of the risks, make sure that you're strapped on tight enough not to fly off, and to stop it in case you throw up, so to speak. 
 
 ( *Heaven/Hell: $ 60. View both for $ 100. The Great Periscope Co. is not liable for any physical or emotional trauma resulting from this viewing. Warning: Viewing this may lead to a sharp rise in your insurance premiums. Kindly consult the pamphlet for full terms and conditions. * ) 
 
 Kind of sucks when they throw up ninety-nine percent of the time. ( *Paper bag, $ 1, Available on request. * ) 
 
 But that's why they picked me. For as long as I can remember, my mother had stated that ignorance is bliss and curiosity killed the cat. A week after she'd died, I'd gone and looked at her medical files. When you're sixteen and see that your unwed mother was hospitalized due to sexual assault nine months before you were born - well, let's just say any urge to unveil secrets takes a jump out the ninth-floor window. Now I do n't look for answers unless they sit up and spit in my face, and it's worked so far. 
 
 Hell has been something we've all been threatened with. It's worse than you can imagine, they say. The blood and sweat, the starvation, the pain, the fear. Imagine an agony that never ends. But no, you ca n't. You ca n't experience *infinity* because you're mortal. You ca n't even stomach eating the same food for breakfast seven days in a row - what do you know of forever? 
 
 You do n't know forever until you see it. You do n't see it properly unless you've looked into the eyes of a man who has had nowhere to go, nothing to think, nothing to look forward to for the last millennium, and knows it's not going to change. In the human condition, even pain is n't a form of loss, it's a form of hope - it's your body saying `` Look, there's a problem in this area, now hold the fuck still while I fix it.'' In the human condition, excessive agony is a countdown to either getting better or dying ( which is another form of getting better. ) My point is, there is nothing as numbing, as shocking, as frightening as the prospect of nothing changing. And this is what causes people to soil their pants ( *Adult Diapers, $ 2, available on request* ) - as if seeing somebody in this situation makes them realize that this is what awaits them too. 
 
 This I know because the Hell viewers often talk about their experiences - after several years of counselling, usually. 
 
 The Heaven viewers? I have no idea what they see. Those that survive the severe depression tend to have very little social interaction. A significant percentage simply go catatonic. A once-famous talk show host had his comeback programme shut down because he could n't film while making eye contact with the camera. My uncle Trent looked into Heaven trying to catch sight of my grandma. He hung himself in our attic the next week. 
 
 The only proper description I've read came from a famous author, who wrote this briefly before he ate his Colt for breakfast: 
 
 > I knew I was going to Hell. That is not why I am sad - before I even witnessed Heaven I knew it was not for me. It is because Heaven tears down every avenue of self-validation I have had. I thought I could be a good person by being a good writer - it told me that utilizing my talents for happiness makes me selfish. I thought I could be a good person by helping the poor - it told me that charity would appease my conscience, but nothing else. I thought I could be a good person by giving up worldly possessions - it taught me that any sins I had were inside me and not transferred to those objects that I chose to reject. What it told me was that I, by virtue of being self-conscious, self-centered and thus *selfish* even in altruism, would never do anything that was n't self-motivated. Appeasing myself was self-love; denying myself was self-punishing. But it always comes down to the words I, I, I. 
 
 > Let me tell you one thing: there are no humans up there in heaven. The entire human civilization, since it learned to use fire and the wheel, has not set foot in God's abode. There are only these little brown ape-people, with their blank eyes and sharp teeth and opposable thumbs, and they run around the jungle every day and eat what catches their fancy, and they are in heaven because they are as God created them, and not what they grew up thinking and choosing to be. 
 
 And damn it, that letter made me laugh. It made me laugh for humanity, because it's the perfect irony that proves there's really a God. It's like that song by the boy band my niece listens to, the one where they say the girl's pretty but only because she does n't know she's pretty. When an eighteen-year-old reality TV phenomenon understands the rules of life and death better than you do - well, I think you should just hang up your boots and have a beer. Be myself, right? In vino veritas and all that. 
 
 Goodnight. I know you're going to Hell, but still, have a nice flight.
