The Pastafarian idea of a heaven is that it has a beer volcano and a stripper factory. Hell is similar to the heaven, but the beer is stale and the strippers have venereal diseases (some say Las Vegas is akin to hell on earth). Why is that? How can Heaven and Hell be so close? Aren’t the two supposed to be radically different? Let me try to explain.
Suppose a stray bullet just missed your head, by a couple of centimeters. See? Even the difference between life and death can be tiny. Or, if the chromosomes that made you were arranged a tiny bit differently in that first second – then you’d be of a different sex (I’m not a biologist, but I’m told that’s how it works). A less dramatic example – imagine that you’ve studied real hard for a really difficult exam, and then just didn’t make it – because of a silly mistake, perhaps because you were distracted by a fly on the exam. Hellish, isn’t it? Now imagine how it feels if the prof finds out she made a mistake in the exam form, and gives the entire class a 0.1 point bonus – which means you’ve made it – how does that feels? Now add a cold beer to the equation… Yeah! Heavenly, right?
The point I’m trying to make here, is that sometimes, the tiniest things can make a huge difference. The Pastafarian faith, in particular our concept of Heaven and Hell, illustrates this point, reminding us to value what we have. In its infinite wisdom (and in a permanent state of drunkenness) the Flying Spaghetti Monster teaches us to cherish those small pleasures that make life fun. R’amen!
