No Mac for Me

Yesterday, my blog was posted using a MAC PC. I don't know what you call a MAC PC, but the laptops are macbooks and ibooks and other strange stuff like that. I'm assuming it's something crazy like that- maybe macscreen or itower. I could Google it, but that would be showing an interest, which would completely counterbalance this entire post. What I'm really trying to get at is this: I don't like Apple computers.

The best part about that statement is the series of reactions that just followed. See, people who use Apple computers are a bit like a religious cult. They are clearly the minority, but they believe there are a lot more people out there just like them, when really, there aren't. I can pretty much guarantee that the second I said "I don't like Apple computers", all the Apple users out there said together: "Well, you're an idiot!"

Wrong Apple users. But then, you are using an Apple computer, so being wrong must be something you're used to by now. I'm sorry, I'm getting off topic. Allow me to explain myself. First of all, Apple and Microsoft are the same company, headed by the same honcho. So why make them so different? I know that Apple's tend to be computers for idiots, and then there are those people who love video editing (the only reason I see someone getting an Apple), but why do regular people buy them? Well, they are great if you have no f-ing clue what you are doing. I mean, everything the computer can do is on the desktop, the mouse only has one button, and all the programmes are super basic.

So I guess the reason I don't like them is because I'm not stupid. I like complicated stuff, and I like to be able to break everything down to the last bit, then rebuild it into a new file. I bet you can't do that, Mr. Apple Owner. So, let me throw that previous statement you made back in your face: Who's the idiot now?

You're Funny Looking

A lot of people frown upon looking down on others for being different. I am not one of those people. If you are different in any way at all, and I notice it, chances are good I'll let out a silent chuckle. That's if I'm feeling courteous. If not, you'll probably see me wiping the tears from my eyes as I holler in laughter. There are a lot of people out there that throw this situation on themselves. For example, people who do too much cocaine: Hilarious! That thing that happens to your nose when you've snorted a metric ton of happy-snow, it pleases me. My favourites, though, are the people who were simply born to amuse me.

Allow me to pain you a picture with the artistic styling of my imagination, so that you can laugh along with me. Imagine, for example, the phantom in Phantom of the Opera. Those who have seen it, in either the theatre or on DVD, know that when he removes his mask, his face looks like he is a burn victim. That's not funny. Stop laughing. Fire isn't funny, it hurts. No, what would be funny is this: Imagine that when he first revealed his face, instead of there being burnt skin all across his right side, he looked completely normal in all ways but one; one of his eyes was huge, and the other was extremely small. See, now that's funny.

Another amusing problem can be found in a small percentage of the male population... and in rare cases, the female population. I love it when someone cannot grow facial hair but in isolated patches, and yet they still try to grow a beard. They end up looking like an army of tiny rodents died on their skin. It is hilarious. It's also great when they can only grow three or four hairs, and instead of shaving them, they let them grow. I always want to pluck them. It tickles me.

All-in-all, differences amuse me. And no, I don't feel bad about it, and neither should you. Unless you're ugly.

Indicating is the Key

I was recently discussing with a friend the terrible drivers that seem to spawn on all the roads where I live. As credit to this source, and because it will make him happy, I would like to give you his first name: Andrew. See, Andrew and I were discussing the inability of people to signal before they change lanes. It seems to be a growing epidemic as more and more people are consumed by this inability to flip their indicator into whichever direction they are turning.

This lead to the following conversation:

Andrew: So have I told you my theory on how to stop the War in Iraq?

James: No, I don't believe so.

Andrew: Well, you're in for a treat. See, it all comes down to turn signals-

James: OK...

Andrew: See, signaling is a pre-warning sign of your future actions. It lets people know exactly what you are going to do so you can prepare for it. It's a matter of common courtesy, and we do it not because it makes our driving experience easier, but the driving experiences of others. See, if we were all to signal, it would mean that we cared about other people, and realized that our actions influenced all of those around us. If we realized that our actions influences other people, then we would be listening to popular demand instead of caring so much about our ego's, and we wouldn't be in Iraq.

James: Andrew... that's so stupid it's almost genius.

Andrew: Thank you.

Pretty clever, huh? I know, I like to surround myself with people who give me something to think about. This clearly did its job, and now I'm sharing it with you. Now, if only there was a way to make people signal...


Oh, don't forget to check out this months short: http://mitchenerchronicles.blogspot.com

The Dollar

The U.S. Dollar was, as of several days ago, worth less than the Canadian dollar by more than a penny. This is news that just fills me with fear, and yet, when I talk to my American friends, no one seems to give a rats ass. As an Englishman living in America who has also lived all over the world, I have a natural understanding of what this can do to my money whenever I travel. By extension, I pretty much immediately noted the future problems this will have with the world trade market. Apparently, I'm the only one.

It took me several days to figure out what was going on with my friends. I tried explaining the situation to them, pointing out how America is basically losing its balance on the tightrope right now, but still, they didn't care. For those of you who are well traveled, or have understanding of the global market, you are probably thinking about the long-term effects just as I am. Why aren't my friends, or for that matter, 99.9% of the American population?

Because they are Americans! See, if this were to happen anywhere else in the world, the country would be throwing a shit-storm. They would be in serious trouble with the world trade market, their investments wouldn't be worth nearly as much as they were, and their own pockets would shrinking. Americans don't see it that way. To Americans, this dollar issue isn't even an issue. They don't care about the rest of the world one bit! To them, everything they'll ever need, ever, is right here within their own borders. They are so sure that they don't need anyone else in the world to survive that they see this little dollar issue as hardly a blip on the radar. Who cares if the dollar depreciates in value? It's not going to change anything! This is America! -- !

If only me ego were that large... the list of things that I would pretend didn't affect me would be endless.

The Best Fight Ever

I want you to think for a minute. Sit there and think. I know that for some people, that's a rather demanding request, so I'm going to give you a prompt. I want you to think about it for a while, and then read on. Here's the question: Who would you most want to fight in the next world war? Who would be the best enemy for you to battle against?

I've put a lot of thought into this, and up until a few weeks ago, I would have said "an Alien race similar to the 'buggers' in Ender's Game; mainly because of the Hive Mind concept of combat." I have since changed my mind. Don't get me wrong, that would be a fantastic war, one which I would suspect we would lose unless we could find someone as amazing as Ender Wiggin in our midst. I like the idea so much of fighting aliens that I am not even removing it from the list of future wars. I am simply pushing it back, so that this war comes before it. What war is better than the Alien war? The Zombie War.

Just think about it. Could it ever get any better? I mean, we'd be fighting the re-animated corpses of humans! So, naturally, we would be semi-familiar with their structure, know where their weak points are, what to attack; but at the same time, we would be fighting a different species. Zombies aren't human, no matter how you look at it. They are dead, and as we all know, you can't get in trouble for killing something that's already dead. Technically, that's impossible.

Really, the only thing I can say about the Zombie war is this: If it starts, and you've turned, I won't think twice about blowing you to bits. I'll see you when it's all over... if you make it.

Walking Alone

The Mitchener Chronicles now has its newest installment. It's rather depressing, but I am trying my hand at Tragic Irony. I hope you enjoy it, regardless of the rather dark theme.

http://mitchenerchronicles.blogspot.com

Condom Loophole

Now, I know I've already done a blog on satisfaction guarantee's, but this one needs its own page entirely. I was looking through my drawers for a pen when I stumbled across a box of condom's I bought the other week. The box was unopened and unused, accumulating it's fair amount of dust (I have a very eventful sex life apparently), but I believe that one should always be prepared. That and unsafe sex is just not cool. For anyone. Ever. But I'm getting off topic. The Point I am trying to make is this: the condom box read, in the top left corner, "100% Satisfaction Guarantee".

At first, I just sort of shrugged it off, but when my brain started doing its usual tactic of thinking about things that I don't really care about, I started to question the guarantee. When this became a bit of a mystery, my conscious thoughts took over and I began to analyze the situation. The way I see it, there are two possibilities here. Either (a) the condom company is guaranteeing you will have a pleasurable experience, or (b) the condom company is guaranteeing their condom will work as stated, which in some ways includes part (a).

I really hope it's (a). Just think about the absolutely flawless loophole they have created here. I can almost picture the court case now.

Judge: Mr. Bryant, you are suing the condom company "Durex" for the amount of $100,000,000 for not fulfilling their guarantee?

Mr. Bryant: That is correct, Your Honour.

[...]

Defense Attorney: Mr. Bryant, is it not possible that the reason you were not satisfied is because you are a terrible lover?

Mr. Bryant: Well... no... I mean-

Defense Attorney: Mr. Bryant, you are under oath.

Mr. Bryant: Well, I suppose, maybe, it's a possibility...

Defense Attorney: No further questions Your Honour.

It's beautiful, isn't it? Durex could never, ever, get in trouble for this. Whenever someone complained, they could always claim that person is just terrible in bed. If, somehow, that person can prove they aren't terrible in the sack, then all Durex has to do is shift the blame onto the other member of the sexual incursion. Priceless.

I want that job when I'm older, being the guy who comes up with guarantee's that mean absolutely nothing.

Sucks to be Gorilla's

It must be terrible being a gorilla. Let's think about this for a second, alright? Gorilla's missed the genetic leap to greatness by something between .01% and .02% genetic difference. How much must that shit suck?! There is absolutely no way they had any say in this decision what-so-ever. I mean, of all the species of animals in the world, gorilla's just have it the worst. At least with other animals, they don't even come close to being as amazing as us, but gorilla's... well, it's sort of one of those "FUCK YOU GOD!!!" situations... from the gorilla's point-of-view.

If there is a God, I think this is just the final proof that he's an asshole. Who would do that to an animal? Bring them within inches of Shakespeare, Mozart, Monet, and Carrot Top; then just take it all away because of two stupid chromosomes?! Who would do that?

No wonder gorilla's are so damn dangerous. If I were a giant hulking bunch of muscles which came .01% away from the human genetic code, I'd be super pissed as well. Every time I saw a human, I'd want to crush his puny little head in, just to show him that "hey, you may have brains, but look at my muscles!" Then I would go cry in the grass because I was too stupid to build a house.

The worst thing we do to gorilla's, though, is when we teach them sign language. It's like kicking someone when they're down. They don't really understand it, but they recognize patterns and the effects of those patterns. So in the vaguest form of the word, they can communicate. It's like saying "look at what you could a-a-a-almost do."

I'm sorry gorilla's; but it's great being human.

Have You Voted?

The voting conversation always manages to amuse me, even though it always begins and ends exactly the same way. It's as if everyone time someone asks me the fabled question of "have you voted yet?", it has suddenly become my birthday and someone has just bought me my own personal space ship and a vile of immortality juice. Seriously, I get that excited.

It happened yesterday when I was coming out of Abnormal Psychology. A girl was handing out fliers about voting for someone, and apparently, I come off as a person who gives a shit. So, like a cruise missile with only one target, the woman comes walking right up to me and shoves a flier into my chest. "Vote for so and so!" she says.

Being the gentleman I am, I take the flier, pretend to read it while noting the very interesting colour and pattern scheme used to attract the idiots, and then look back up to her fake-smiling face and say calmly "I don't vote."

Had I not been in a public setting, I think she would have killed me then and there. I'm assuming she had heard that excuse a lot today, and it was really starting to piss her off. She exploded, yelling at me in a hushed rage: "You need to vote! This country is built on the choices of the people, and if you don't take an interest, we're going to be stuck with some idiot making all of our decisions! And who will be to blame? People like you, who didn't take the half-hour needed to go and cast a vote! This is America!"

That was my cue. Time for me to act! "I'm not American," I said, calmly, though inside my body was just bubbling with joy.

"Well, you're going to school here, so you're a citizen right!"

"Nope. I'm a permanent resident. I can't vote."

She stared at me silently for several seconds. Then, extremely embarrassed, she apologized for her rude outbreak and started blushing. I didn't say it was O.K. That would be counterproductive. Instead, I smiled happily at my perfectly played trump card, and went on my merry way.

Oh, and by-the-way, I wouldn't vote even if I could.

A... Friend?... in Need of Help

I wrote this essay, if it can even be described as such, for Abnormal Psychology. We were asked to pick a television character who suffers with some form of mental illness. Naturally, everyone in the class handed in papers about Monk and House. I chose a different route.

Here's what I wrote:

There are many people out in the world who suffer from depression. Most of them, despite the help and guidance of friends, refuse to believe they are even in a situation that requires them to seek medical assistance. They simply roam the world unable to think, be happy, be productive, make decisions, or simply exist in regular society. As for people (using the term as loosely as possible) I know, there is one in particular who could certainly do with medical assistance to deal with his very severe case of depression; Snuffleupagus.

Snuffleupagus lives on Sesame Street with many of his other puppet friends. With exception to Bert and Ernie (a different medical case entirely), most of the puppets seem rather happy with their lives. They are all friends, and get along rather well. The only problem is that Snuffleupagus has a tendency to experience the most extreme cases of depression. The most likely cause of this symptom is the fact that he is the imaginary friend of another puppet. I don’t know much about puppet imaginations, but seeing as puppets have no brains in their Styrofoam heads, it must be difficult for Snuffleupagus to go day-to-day with the knowledge that he was created from the mental projections of a creature with no mental functioning. He spends most of his days moping around the sidewalks of Sesame Street, for he is too big to fit in any houses. He moves slowly, gets very little done, and is always talking with a very long and slow drawl, almost as if every sentence may very well be his last. He does have small bursts of happiness, however, in which he and Big Bird will go about and do something productive, but for the majority of his life, Snuffleupagus is completely useless and unable to exist in society.

It is clear from his actions that Snuffleupagus should seek help immediately for Major Depression. I am not entirely sure what the medical world can do for an imaginary puppet elephant, but if there is hope out there for a better life, then he should certainly seek it. It is clear that, through the projections of the televised world, Snuffleupagus is in desperate need of help. He is suffering from a rather accurate depiction of Depression, and unless he tries to find a way to deal with his issues, he may very well end up hurting himself... though I’m not sure that imaginary friends killing themselves is considered “suicide”.

On a side note: this brings up lots of questions about Big Bird’s mental state. If he is imagining a friend who suffers with depression, I think it’s safe to assume that there are some unspoken issues going on with the focal puppet as well. Perhaps the real issue isn’t with Snuffleupagus, but rather with Big Bird, who is projecting all of his emotions onto his imaginary friend. Just something to think about.

Incoming!

Just a little warning: the reason my blogs haven't been appearing by the day is because I have been working on a story for the Mitchener Chronicles. So, expect a new update to the Mitchener Chronicles within the next few days.

I'll be back with a blog later... hopefully.

Real Conversation

No joke, this was a real conversation between two people I am happy to say I don't know. Well, one of them I would be sort-of happy to know, the other, not so much. You see, it's people like this that make me wonder what is going on with the education system today. We can apparently teach people how to build a building, how to write a novel, how to paint a picture, and how to manage the business world; but when it comes to basic things like common sense, people are still clueless.

This was how it happened:

I was in American Literature 1, a class I have very little respect for seeing as almost no one wrote anything down in early America. My professor was running around up front jotting down notes here and there, and in the middle of writing a long word, he stopped, switched the chalk from his right hand to his left, paused a little longer, and finished the word. Then he turned around and said "I'm sorry about the pauses. Being ambidextrous and dyslexic at the same time can be quite a pain."

After class, I was walking down the hall behind two girls. One of them was catting away casually and the other looked quite concerned. The chatty one apparently didn't notice. After a while, this conversation unfolded.

Concerned Girl: So... Ambidextrous... I didn't know they let people teach like that?

Chatty Girl: [long pause]. What do you think "ambidextrous" means?

Concerned Girl: Well, it's when your body is inhabited by two souls, isn't it? A good one and a bad one? And the bad one occasionally takes over and the good one can't do anything to stop it...

Chatty Girl: [longer pause, followed by sarcastic response]. Yea, that's right. I was worried you were getting it confused.

END.

I don't really have anything further to day. The jokes pretty much write themselves.

Fallen Foe

We all have had, at some point in our lives, one person that we simply cannot get along with. Our bitter distaste towards this specific individual would grow within us with every passing second, and during moments that you and this person were forced to spend time together, you could find absolutely nothing about them you liked. As time passed, the person became less of an annoyance and more of a counterpoint to yourself. Everything they were, you weren't. You built a relationship around these emotions, until in the end, you had walled yourself off completely from this individual, rendering the two of you utter enemies.

What would you say to this person if they died?

I will not tell you if this is hypothetical, or entirely based on real events. Instead, I will tell you what I would say, if I were to ever have a chance to talk to this person again. I will call him... "John".

John. I am not telling you any of this because I like you. If anything, it's for the complete opposite reason. It's strange, having lost a person in my life with whom I have so long despised. I've lost friends before- not close ones, but friends. It hurts. I never once imagined that it would feel worse to lose someone I hated. I tell you this here because I'm being realistic. I probably will never come and visit your grave, nor will I ever tell your parents I'm sorry. But I will tell you this: The line between hate and love is so fine that it's almost invisible. I hated you every single day of your life, as you hated me. And now, none of that really matters. I suppose, in the grand scheme of things, you kept me pointed in the direction of who I wanted to be. I would very often think "would John do this?" and if you would, then I would not. I don't really want to admit this, but in many ways, I feel I must. I miss you. Like love, hate requires a lot of work, and to all of a sudden have it taken away from me; it's not a pleasant feeling. So, I miss you, and though throughout your entire life I hated you, I can safely admit that at the same time, I loved you. You were the worst of friends, and I can never thank you enough for that. Rest in peace, my most hated of enemies. Rest in peace, my friend.

Now it's your turn. What would you say?

Heaven Reads No Vacancies (Part 4)

This will be my final piece to the "Heaven Reads No Vacancies" series. I have much more to say on the issue, but I don't like sticking to one topic for too long, just in case some of my readers are not enjoying it. I like to spice things up a little, and so, this will be my final note on the flaws with Heaven.

The final point I would like to touch on is the idea of "eternal bliss". Heaven, in almost all religions, promises some form of eternal enlightenment. That means that for eternity, you will have at your disposal all of what is necessary to maintain a level of complete happiness. We're not talking about a half-smile. No, we're talking full blown, stomach turning, face hurting, lip cracking happiness, unmatched by anything anywhere in the known and unknown universe.

There are a number of problems with this picture. The central issue can be discovered when the two words in question are separated and looked at as individuals. We are, of course, speaking about "Eternal" and "Bliss". Eternal implies eternity. As stated before, eternity is a very very very... very... long time. So long, in fact, that my mind can't even begin to grasp just how long it would last. A hundred years seems like a long time to me, and don't even get me started on a thousand, but infinity- now that's just crazy. How can anyone ever stay happy for eternity? I get bored with most things after a few weeks! I'll be damned if Heaven has such a ready supply of everything that I can stay entertained forever. In order for a person to be entertained for eternity, there would have to be an infinite number of things to keep them happy. Perhaps it's just my mortal mind holding me back, but I can't even remotely believe that Heaven could keep me in eternal bliss for more than a 1,000 years, yet alone for all of eternity.

The second problem is born from the word "bliss". Bliss, as I have come to understand the word, is when one is happy beyond all measure, to the point that they can never be more content. It's a climax, and as anyone with any literary knowledge knows, a climax can only be created if it is built up to, and then declined from. You must have a repression and a depression if you are to have a peak. Therefor, bliss can only be reached if you are not at first in a state of bliss, and will without-doubt fall from your state of bliss at a later date. Therefor, experiencing bliss for all of eternity would be physically and emotionally impossible. You would, at some point, be forced into a depression, or else you would never be able to experience this so-called eternal bliss.

I know, it kind of ruins the whole "Heaven is great!" idea, doesn't it?

NOTE: Special thanks to Andrew for assisting me on my poor mental graphing skills. Who would have guessed, I can write, but I can't visualize graphs...

Heaven Reads No Vacancies (Part 3)

The next biggest question regarding the comfort of Heaven is the issue of space. There are one of two options for the capacity of Heaven, each of which shall be adressed. Either it is infinite in size, and therefor has absolutely no limit to number of people it can comfortably occupy, or Heaven's size is finite, and therefor has a population limit that it can sustain. Both of these pose a number of different problems.

First, we will assume Heaven is infinite in size. If this were the case, then there would be an endless possible distance that one could place between themselves and everyone else. If you were to build a house in Heaven, it would be entirely possible that you are neighbors with someone who lives 10 trillion light years away. As far as having company over for dinner goes, this could be rather antisocial. Also, if this is the case, then getting from point A to point B in Heaven could very well occupy most of eternity. Again, this would get very old, very fast. The outcome, I believe it safe to assume, would be that no one would ever visit anyone for fear of spending eternity roaming the vast nothingness that exists between residences.

Option B, by comparison, isn't much better. If Heaven has a finite amount of space, there will one day reach a point that Heaven can no longer occupy anymore souls. The problem with souls, being that they are immortal, is that once they have taken up a seat in Heaven, they are in it forever. Obviously, 'forever' is a difficult concept to grasp, but just think about it for a moment. Once that seat is taken, it will never in all of eternity be emptied. That means that of our 33 billion souls that are currently sitting up in heaven, 33 billion will still be there in the next million years, plus however many people ascend during that time. It is obvious that with an infinite number of souls filling up a finite amount of space, Heaven will clearly run out of room, and eventually be forced to close its gates to all those worthy of entering.

On the flip side, Hell must follow the same rules. Assuming that of our 110 billion people who have existed on the planet Earth, 33 billion of them have filled seats in Heaven. This means that 77 billion have to go somewhere else. If that place were Hell, and it followed the same rules as Heaven, then either (a) the devil would be easy to avoid in infinity, or (b) Hell is probably full by now.

So really, if you think about it, it doesn't matter what you believe. When you finally reach those pearly gates, you're in for a rough ride when you realize that the sign has been flipped over from "Welcome!" to "No Vacancies".

Heaven Reads No Vacancies (Part 2)

Assuming then that there are 33 billion people sitting comfortably at or in the gates of heaven, it is safe to assume that these people have come from a very long line of humanity. Given the fact that we only have 6.8 billion people inhabiting the earth right now, which has only doubled to that point in very recent years, 3.9 billion in 1970, it is safe to say that the 33 billion have come from thousands of generations of human existence. This leads me to the next problem with heaven; the language barrier.

It is a difficult concept to grasp, given the incredibly short lifespan of humans in comparison to that of the universe, but just imagine how much language has changed over the recent years. Have you ever sat down with a grandparent, had a conversation, and realized that they are using words that you didn't even know existed? Just think, that is only a difference of two generations. From a heaven point-of-view, that's not even a blip on the radar! You would be interacting with people who, even though they speak the same core language, have so many generations of language alteration that really, the dialects are so different it would be akin to talking to a Frenchman when all you know is Spanish.

Once again, I am basing my arguments on a combined view of heaven drawn from multiple religions, because I'm assuming that they share the same place of spiritual enlightenment. For this reason, I am not taking into account the idea of having a new memory, or forgetting everything you learned on Earth. From a religions P.O.V., that would simply be counterproductive. What good would it do God to have his peons spend their whole life in commitment to him, just to have them forget all their devotion when the ascend to heaven? So, as far as having a community language in heaven goes, I'm ruling it out.

Today's overall summary of heaven's problems: If you plan on going, I'd recommend doing some intensive studying now on the different dialects of your own language. If not, you're going to be communicating with a very small population of heaven, and that will probably get boring fast.

Heaven Reads No Vacancies (Part 1)

There are a lot of problems I have with the idea of heaven as it is depicted in most forms of religious text. The core of religion seems very intent on disagreeing with new scientific discoveries. It has happened for years, from the point people started saying the world was round, all the way up until now when we are saying that there are other dimensions beyond our own. Religion and science just can't seem to get along. So, for the next couple (perhaps several) blogs, I will be basing my arguments on heaven around what religion tells us, and how it doesn't quite make sense from my perspective. And as you all know, my perspective is always, always, right.

So let's get started! First thing I would like to point out are the numbers. There are a lot of dead people. Lots. We're talking roughly 110 billion people from the dawn of time until now. That's a lot of people. Of course, heaven is certainly not filled with all these people. Almost every religion has some form of eternal damnation, and I think it's safe to assume that of those 110 billion people, less than 30% have made it into heaven. I say 30% for several reasons. First off, there is no religion existing today that existed at the dawn of time. For that reason, we can knock quite a few people out of heaven for simple ignorance; religion likes to punish ignorance. 30% is also a bit generous if you look at how many different religions there are in the world. I'm assuming that several of these religions will come together and share heaven, or else we'll be looking at 2% instead of 30%, which for the sake of my argument, is a bit depressing.

Assuming then that 30% of the human population ever to have passed through Earth is now up in heaven, we're looking at a nice round figure of about 33,000,000,000. That's a lot of people for a place with absolutely no economy, no business structure, no form of mass market, and absolutely nothing to supply individuals with what they need and want beyond "God's Will". Now, I know God is supposed to be pretty amazing, but can he really cater to the needs of 33 billion spirits, keep the angels (using the word angel loosely to describe all of God's assistants in all religions), AND watch all the goings on of Earth to ensure his investment in humanity continues to take that tragic turn towards self destruction? To be frank, I have my doubts.

Really, the point I'm trying to make here is this: If there is a heaven anything like the religious texts offer, there's probably a shortage of seating by now.