One man’s Purgatory, another man’s reality
Another consequence of those celebrations involved several shots of Black Bush and numerous ballads and stories. In the deep serene sleep which followed in the small hours of the morning dammit if the fey and psychic side of me, inherited from my mother Mary, did not manifest itself very strongly in a way which involved an exploratory trip to Purgatory. The pure truth again as you can only read here.
The great news is that despite the teachings of the Catholic Church of my childhood, and yours too, there are no horrific fires burning in Purgatory at al at all.
The place is quite comfortable and pleasant once you pass through the strong iron gates and reach Reception. I was surprised and delighted by that and so are many of you for sure. The other surprise at (very busy and bustling) Reception was that one has a whole range of choices in relation to the zone in which one will serve out one’s penitential term.
I quickly learned on my trip that the real pain of Purgatory was never inflicted by fire and brimstone such as rages Down Below but by the fact that one is right next door to the golden gates of Paradise and that every day here is as long as one of our months.
I also learned that the manna of the diet is infinitely poorer than that in Paradise and there is no TV at all, but sure this is not Mountjoy and one is expected to do penance for the sins committed on Earth and that is only fair.
Moreover, I was delighted to be informed crisply that an Irishman arriving at Reception is offered a wide choice of Celtic areas in which to serve his or her time. On my trip I opted for the Fianna Fáil Hall because I was a staunch Fianna Fáiler all my life until the month we discovered that our leader Bertie Ahern had no bank account.
Even today, apart from the party, my template is still of the old party and I felt I would be more comfortable during my sentence with those whose warts were of the same colour as mine. Anyway most of the small enough sins I committed during life were somehow associated with the party.
Eventually, for example, when my real time comes, I will have to serve at least six months extra for never once having voted for Michael D Higgins in Galway West when he was gallantly running for Labour. Just one example.
More surprises for many of you out there. On my exploratory trip through the Fianna Fáil Hall I was surprised to see Charlie himself looking quite serene. Many political enemies would have thought Charlie would not have made it this far but there he was in the thick of it.
I learned he has to wear a hairshirt every day under his white robe as one of his penances and has to work 12-hour shifts in the upmarket silk shirt factory at the same time.
I also learned it was totally false he was ever involved in a black market manna operation uncovered only recently by the Keepers.
It is, however, true that the former leader is enduring just one final exquisite penance before being released finally to Paradise. It emerges that he has to wait in Purgatory until the currently very hale and hearty former aide PJ Mara arrives on the doorstep.
Then, in a reversal of the alleged situation during his political heyday, Charlie will have to lick the toecap of Mara’s left shoe before achieving Paradise. Where else but here could you learn such exclusive news.
I also learned on my visit, believe it or not, that both Michael Collins and Éamon de Valera were only freed less than six months ago. Is that not incredible.
Reliable sources told me that this situation occurred because although both great leaders had long since atoned for their other sins and transgressions they were unable to cross the line in relation to their final penance.They were unable to shake hands!
I cannot prove this for certain, but it was whispered to me that Charlie was involved in the negotiations which finally enabled them to briefly shake hands and depart simultaneously to eternal peace and more wholesome manna. Probably the pure truth as well.
I gathered with some surprise that there is an Orange Hall right next door to the Fianna Fáil Hall and there are just as many suffering souls in there including some well-known ones.
The Fine Gael Hall is now jointly shared with Labour and, remarkably enough, with the relatively few Sinn Féiners who arrive.
The scuttlebutt during my brief trip, for what it is worth, is that Gerry Adams, being innocent of everything all his earthly life, will go straight to Heaven when his time comes and the Fianna Fáilers in Purgatory feel certain that this status will only be achieved in the near future by Gay Byrne, Mary McAleese, the comedian Brendan O’Carroll, Shane Ross, Mick O’Dwyer and the God-fearing Ian Paisley. I report that for what it is worth.
From your window in Purgatory, when your time comes, you will be able to see the spinning globe of this Earth of ours not all that far away, surrounded by more and more space satellites and space debris.
I think it glows quite goldenly and brightly but I cannot be quite certain about that because this image may have been created by the bedside lamp which was shining into my eyes when I awoke in the morning!
In my view there is more good news than bad news here for the majority of us. Is that not again the pure truth?
