If ever I make it to the pearly gate, I'll have stern words for The Good Angel. I'll tell him that when he handed me my soul, he should have included a more comprehensible instruction manual.
The current manual drives me to distraction, and I am forced sometimes to reach
for the commentaries. All of which have clearly been written by a loose
association of Bad Angels, some of them guitar playing, and really far too
cheerful, except for Calvin who is so incredibly dour he must be on the right