While vacationing on a ranch, Paul Martin gets thrown from his horse,
lands on a rattlesnake, gets bitten and dies because the emergency
room at the nearest hospital is too understaffed to treat him in
time. So his soul arrives in Heaven and he is met by St. Peter at the
Pearly Gates.
"Welcome to Heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems
there is a problem. We seldom see a Liberal around these parts, so
we're not sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let me in; I'm a believer." says Martin.
"I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from the Man Himself.
He says you have to spend one day in Hell and one day in Heaven. Then
you must choose where you'll live for eternity."
"But, I've already made up my mind, I want to be in Heaven," replied Martin".
I'm sorry, but we have our rules." And with that, St. Peter escorts him to an
elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to Hell.
The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush golf
course; the sun is shining in a cloudless sky, the temperature a
perfect 72 degrees. In the distance is a beautiful clubhouse.
Standing in front of it is his Dad, and thousands of other Liberals
who had helped him out over the years---Pierre Trudeau, Jean Marchand,
Pelletier, St Laurent etc. The whole of the "Left" was there,
everyone laughing, happy, and casually but expensively dressed. They
run to greet him, hug him, and reminisce about the good times they
had getting rich at the expense of 'suckers and peasants.' They play
a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar.
The Devil himself comes up to Martin with a frosty drink, "Have a
Margarita and relax, Paul!"
"Uh, I can't drink anymore, I took a pledge," says Martin, dejectedly.
"This is Hell, son. You can drink and eat all you want and not worry, and it just gets better from
there!"
Martin takes the drink and finds himself liking the Devil, who he
thinks is a really very friendly guy who tells funny jokes like
himself, and pulls hilarious nasty pranks, kind of like they pulled
on the GST and Free Trade promises. They are having such a great time
that, before he realizes it, it's time to go. Everyone gives him a
big hug and waves as Martin steps on the elevator and heads upward.
When the elevator door reopens, he is in Heaven again and St. Peter
is waiting for him. "Now it's time to visit Heaven," the old man
says, opening the gate. So for 24 hours Martin is made to hang out
with a bunch of honest, good-natured people who enjoy each other's
company, talk about things other than money, and treat each other
decently. Not a nasty prank or frat boy joke among them; no fancy
country clubs and, while the food tastes great, it's not caviar or
lobster. And these people are all poor, he doesn't see anybody he
knows, and he isn't even treated like someone special!
"Whoa," he says uncomfortably to himself. "Pierre Trudeau never prepared me for
this!"
The day done, St. Peter returns and says, "Well, you've spent
a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now choose where you want to live
for eternity."
With the 'Jeopardy' theme playing softly in the background, Martin reflects for a minute, then answers: "Well,
I would never have thought I'd say this -- I mean, Heaven has been
delightful and all -- but I really think I belong in Hell with my
friends."
So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down,
down, down, all the way to Hell. The doors of the elevator open and
he is in the middle of a barren scorched earth covered with garbage
and toxic industrial waste, kind of like Sudbury. He is horrified to
see all of his friends, dressed in rags and chained together, picking
up the trash and putting it in black bags. They are groaning and
moaning in pain, faces and hands black with grime.
The Devil comes over to Martin and puts an arm around his shoulder.
"I don't understand," stammers a shocked Martin, "Yesterday I was
here and there was a golf course and a clubhouse and we ate lobster
and caviar, drank booze. We lazed around and had a great time. Now
there's just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks
miserable!"
The Devil looks at him, smiles slyly, and purrs, "Yesterday we were
campaigning; today you voted for us!"
I could not resist posting... got off the Rural Issues!
Merry Christmas!
lands on a rattlesnake, gets bitten and dies because the emergency
room at the nearest hospital is too understaffed to treat him in
time. So his soul arrives in Heaven and he is met by St. Peter at the
Pearly Gates.
"Welcome to Heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems
there is a problem. We seldom see a Liberal around these parts, so
we're not sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let me in; I'm a believer." says Martin.
"I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from the Man Himself.
He says you have to spend one day in Hell and one day in Heaven. Then
you must choose where you'll live for eternity."
"But, I've already made up my mind, I want to be in Heaven," replied Martin".
I'm sorry, but we have our rules." And with that, St. Peter escorts him to an
elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to Hell.
The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush golf
course; the sun is shining in a cloudless sky, the temperature a
perfect 72 degrees. In the distance is a beautiful clubhouse.
Standing in front of it is his Dad, and thousands of other Liberals
who had helped him out over the years---Pierre Trudeau, Jean Marchand,
Pelletier, St Laurent etc. The whole of the "Left" was there,
everyone laughing, happy, and casually but expensively dressed. They
run to greet him, hug him, and reminisce about the good times they
had getting rich at the expense of 'suckers and peasants.' They play
a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar.
The Devil himself comes up to Martin with a frosty drink, "Have a
Margarita and relax, Paul!"
"Uh, I can't drink anymore, I took a pledge," says Martin, dejectedly.
"This is Hell, son. You can drink and eat all you want and not worry, and it just gets better from
there!"
Martin takes the drink and finds himself liking the Devil, who he
thinks is a really very friendly guy who tells funny jokes like
himself, and pulls hilarious nasty pranks, kind of like they pulled
on the GST and Free Trade promises. They are having such a great time
that, before he realizes it, it's time to go. Everyone gives him a
big hug and waves as Martin steps on the elevator and heads upward.
When the elevator door reopens, he is in Heaven again and St. Peter
is waiting for him. "Now it's time to visit Heaven," the old man
says, opening the gate. So for 24 hours Martin is made to hang out
with a bunch of honest, good-natured people who enjoy each other's
company, talk about things other than money, and treat each other
decently. Not a nasty prank or frat boy joke among them; no fancy
country clubs and, while the food tastes great, it's not caviar or
lobster. And these people are all poor, he doesn't see anybody he
knows, and he isn't even treated like someone special!
"Whoa," he says uncomfortably to himself. "Pierre Trudeau never prepared me for
this!"
The day done, St. Peter returns and says, "Well, you've spent
a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now choose where you want to live
for eternity."
With the 'Jeopardy' theme playing softly in the background, Martin reflects for a minute, then answers: "Well,
I would never have thought I'd say this -- I mean, Heaven has been
delightful and all -- but I really think I belong in Hell with my
friends."
So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down,
down, down, all the way to Hell. The doors of the elevator open and
he is in the middle of a barren scorched earth covered with garbage
and toxic industrial waste, kind of like Sudbury. He is horrified to
see all of his friends, dressed in rags and chained together, picking
up the trash and putting it in black bags. They are groaning and
moaning in pain, faces and hands black with grime.
The Devil comes over to Martin and puts an arm around his shoulder.
"I don't understand," stammers a shocked Martin, "Yesterday I was
here and there was a golf course and a clubhouse and we ate lobster
and caviar, drank booze. We lazed around and had a great time. Now
there's just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks
miserable!"
The Devil looks at him, smiles slyly, and purrs, "Yesterday we were
campaigning; today you voted for us!"
I could not resist posting... got off the Rural Issues!
Merry Christmas!
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