Most Americans don’t give much thought to the afterlife until, lo and behold, they’ve arrived there. This is in stark contrast to the ancient Egyptians, who thought about little else.
They even had a book all about it; the Book of the Dead, which, having been written by the late great. . .well, dead, must have been on loan from the Library of Ancestors in order to help mortals plan a proactive itinerary for that one last one-way trip.
If you haven’t read the Book of the Dead, you’d be well-advised to bone up on your posthumous etiquette. Rest assured, one day your own personal reality show will be pre-empted by the Autonomic Evacuation System of the soul. You’ll need to know how much to tip your patron saint. Where to find Wiggy Beethoven so you can play him your jazz rendition of Fur Elise. What to say when God sneezes.
Here, then, is a summation of the most salient and counterintuitive points of the 8,294th edition Book o‘ the Dearly Departed (having endured countless title changes in vain attempts to bolster papyrus sales), translated by yours truly, who speaks not a lick of Hieroglyphic but has a knack for making up stories out of pictures like you wouldn‘t believe:
In lieu of family, you can opt for your favorite pets to pick you up at the light.
Bring a billion years’ worth of chewing gum. Or a spare pair of eardrums.
If you’ve ever wondered what really goes on inside a black hole, don’t ask until you’ve earned your anti-dark matter parka. Even then, gum.
You can watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” on the insides of your eyelids 427 hours a day and laugh about how they misquoted the real maxim: “Every time a vacuum cleaner belt breaks an angel gets her anti-dark matter parka.”
Being good at sports is ultimately far more important than having lived a moral life.
By “sports” it is meant only chess (Ingmar Bergman came up with the same translation).
If you lend the Great One money, he‘ll be “just one galaxy over“ for eons. Charge interest, get the terms in writing, and don‘t fall victim to the old laying-down-8 month repayment plan. Accept no checks.
Dr. Seuss runs the zoo! He has a pet moose-goose-Zeus. They live in a caboose and drink only moo-juice!
Heavenly Idol auditions are open to all entities under thirty million years old.
Finally, don’t forget the Book of the Dead; you can’t afford those overdue fees.
Not planning to leave anytime soon? No one ever is, yet the Universal Transglobular Index (UTI) reports the afterlife economy is simply booming with the perpetual influx of new residents. Relatively speaking, a two-cloud skyscraper placed on the market today will sell three weeks ago for four times what was paid tomorrow. And that’s just a one-story fixer-upper!
Ready to open your Mystical Indulgence Account (MIA)? For the best exchange rates, wire funds directly to the author.