Monday, December 5, 2011




     Once stranded in purgatory a mind begins to wonder whether there has been some kind of bureaucratic error.  It drifts from place to place, waiting for its case to be heard, and I would suggest that in order to prevent an equivalent to shopping frenzy at a Best Buy, a mind in purgatory necessarily has limited access to other minds in purgatory. There is no sitting around with associated gossip, no place to debate, no lunch room.

     I sometimes think how nice it would be if a mind in purgatory, possessed at least something with windows that can close, and perhaps a radio station that only plays Rolling Stones tunes, a stock of cold beer, a supply of ham or bacon sandwiches, a coffee or ice-cream maker and a good view of the archangel directing traffic.




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