Purgatory, disproven

Purgatory became necessary as soon as the Devil realized that the "abandon hope, all ye who enter here" business was counterproductive.

Hell is in fact broken without hope. Hell would not be an adequate Hell without ambition and achievement, the same things that build little hells here on Earth. The damned needed motivation. They needed to think that their suffering was accomplishing something, to drum up enthusiasm and give their afterlives purpose. With Purgatory, the Devil was able to persuade his subjects to jump deeper into the fire, believing that by doing so they would shorten their eternity in Hell.

Of course, it's all futile, just like any other kind of aspiration and achievement. There is no such thing as Purgatory, it's all Hell. Still, it was a fairly brilliant stroke.

Ecce gratum et optatum

Of the various emotions that carry you through the baseball playoffs, there are few moments of greater sheer joy and relief than seeing the elimination of the New York Yankees. Now you can relax. Now it's all good sportsmanship, may the best man win, pip pip, cheerio, and all of that crap. For there are teams you like, and teams you dislike: but there is only one team that you hate.

I suppose the ideal would be not to see the Yankees in the playoffs at all. But that ain't going to happen. Even I have to give them credit for being the best team money can buy. They must have fans somewhere, for Steinbrenner to get all that money, but they ain't here.

I guess I want to see the Tigers win this year. But for Cleveland, the place where I was born, and the Blue Jays (guffaw!) they are my team I guess. I grew up to the AM radio sounds of WJR, WXYZ, and CKLW. My sister lives close to Detroit now. It has been a good long time since the Tigers were good. I support them, then, in a moderate and genteel way. But hatred of the Yankees sustains me and penetrates to the very core of my being.