So the poet Virgil came to Eccles, who is a saved person, and said "Perhaps you'd like to take a look at Hell, Purgatory and Heaven, to see how they've been getting on since I gave Dante a conducted tour? You could write about them on your lovely blog."
Abandon Hope, all ye who enter here
So they travelled to the gates of Hell itself, and began their descent into the abyss from which no man returns.
"This could be interesting," said Eccles. "Will we see Hitler, Stalin, Bin Laden, and people like that?"
"We do have them down here of course," said Virgil, "but frankly you don't want to see the dreadful torments they suffer. When you see someone who is forced to read the Guardian all day long, you even start to feel a nagging sympathy for them."
Ted Heath
They came to a darkened room in which a big fat man was groaning pitifully as he declaimed in a booming voice: "Ohhh... notwithstanding directive LU/267/JRQ/1637, paragraph 208, on the regulations for the design of teaspoons permitted in coffee shops not exceeding 250 square metres in area, it will be necessary for the managers of such shops to buy carbon credits to the value of EUR 50 for each customer who wishes to blow on his coffee to cool it, on pain of having their toenails pulled out by a registered inspector..."
"This is one of his lucky days," said Virgil. "He's just got to read out pointless EU directives. On a bad day they get him to read out all his old speeches."
"I see you try to make the punishment fit the crime," remarked Eccles. "Do you have any interesting atheists?"
Christopher Hitchens
They came to a room in which a rather stout man was writing a book. Eccles looked at the chapter heading, which said How Mother Teresa murdered a nanny and framed Lord Lucan for it, on the instructions of Pope Paul VI. In the corner of the room was a fire, and Virgil explained that Hitchens's punishment (apart from being eternally deprived of alcohol and cigarettes) was to write books which, when completed, were thrown directly into the flames. "This happened when he was alive too, usually, but now we can cut out all the trouble of getting a customer to buy them first," explained Virgil.
"I was right, I was right, there is no God, and he hates me!" screamed Hitchens, and resumed his writing.
"How about Catholics?" asked Eccles. "Do you have any down here?"
"Lots," said Virgil. "Since the 1960s, there's been no shortage of Catholics wanting to sign up to a liberal agenda. Abortion, euthanasia, divorce, homosexual practices... so much simpler than traditional morality, it seems."
Will nobody come for a drive with me?
A fat dissolute man came past, driving a taxi. "Taxi, guv?" he asked. "A little drive to the island?"
"Heard the legend of the Flying Dutchman?" asked Virgil. "Condemned for ever to sail the seas? It's been updated - Ted here is condemned for ever to drive his taxi, unable to pick up passengers."
"He was a Catholic, wasn't he?" asked Eccles.
"When there were votes in it," replied Virgil. "But mostly he was just a fat drunken slob."
"So, where next?" asked Eccles.
"Well, you've seen some dead souls currently in torment. Next, I shall show you a vision of the future. We'll see some of the living people whom we're expecting down here in the next few years..."
Let's go and do something really evil.
