Questions and Answers
Q: Sean, after reading a few of your recent entries, I was wondering what your views are on politics. Do you mind sharing them with us all, so we know where you stand?
A: My thoughts are this: There is nothing more terrifying than waking up and realizing that your high-school class is now running the world.
Q: Hi Sean, I am writing to ask if you have any Italian in your lineage. I am Italian and my mom and I were wondering what your race is.
A: I am a mutt. My dog has a higher pedigree than I do.
Q: Sean, who are your literary heroes? If you have any, will you share them with us?
A: Gary Larson.
Q: Do you believe that all denominations will go to heaven?
A: I don’t believe fifty-dollar bills will go to heaven. No. Tens and twenties, yes. But not fifties.
Q: You know what I meant.
A: When I was a kid, my Granny used to tell me to be good, and always behave, otherwise when the Lord returned with the last trumpet call, I would be left here on earth while all fundamentalists would be evacuated to heaven, singing hymns all day long, attending Eternal Sunday School.
“You don’t want to be left behind, do you?” my granny would ask.
I didn’t answer.
“Well, DO YOU?” Granny would insist.
“I’m still thinking,” I said.
Q: Seriously, Sean, what do you believe? Do Catholics and Baptists and such go to the same place?
A: I don’t know. I suppose I believe there will be different rooms in heaven. Sort of like high school. I believe Baptists will be in their own room, playing harps. I believe the Methodists will be in another room, having a grand potluck, and laughing. I believe the Episcopalians will have a cash bar.
Q: Speaking of cash, are you rich? I looked your net worth up on the internet and it said you were worth a lot of money.
A: Pardon me while I laugh so hard ramen noodle soup comes out of my nose. Admittedly, I don’t know how the internet works, but I can tell you this. The internet was drunk when it told you that.
Q: So you’re saying writers don’t make much?
A: What do you call a writer with health insurance?
Q: What?
A: Married.
Q: So what is it actually like to be a professional writer?
A: I can’t put it into words.
Q: Dear Sean, I want to become a professional writer. It has been my lifelong dream to earn a living doing what I love. I am looking for a field of specialization (fiction, non-fiction, etc). What I wanted to ask you is, in your experience, what kind of writing pays the best?
A: Ransom notes.
Q: I am an English teacher, and I wanted to ask you what you think of the current state of our country, when it comes to reading and literature. I just read a study that said over 50 percent of Americans admit they haven’t read a book or newspaper in the past year. What does that mean for writers like you?
A: It means we dont’ have to worry bout mispelings anymor.
Q: I am 11, and I want a dog. But my mother said you have to be old enough to take care of, and feed a dog. She told me to ask you what you thought.
A: The appropriate question is how old is your mother?
Q: Are you a Christian? Because I can’t ever seem to figure out where you stand on religion. Sometimes you write about God and angels, but then I get this feeling you think everyone is going to heaven. This is not true, Sean. I don’t care how good of a person you are, not everyone goes to heaven. Some people will go to hell, and I don’t want to spend an eternity without you.
Q: I promise. Once you get there, you won’t even miss me.
Q: Be serious, Sean.
A: I suppose that when I reflect on the number of disagreeable people who I know have gone onto a Better Life, I am moved to lead a different life.
Q: How do you write something every day? Isn’t it hard?
A: Yes. It can be. Sometimes you wrack your brain and you come up short. Sometimes you feel lazy, and realize that you have the literary talent of a mutt.
Q: What do you do in circumstances like that?
A: You write a Q&A column.
Like Church of Christ, or Sullen Baptists, or certain Presbyterian folks, some will have their own room in heaven where they're assured they are the only ones there. I'm inclined to think heaven isn't a destination as much as it's a way or an attitude of living with each other here and now. That probably means it matters more what we do and how we treat each other than the words we use. In the end, there's probably more of it that's up to God anyway. So, why worry about it? Read some more Gary Larson. Try drawing some cartoons. Treat each other a little better. Do the best you can. Ask for some help to do it better. Enjoy a cool beverage on the back porch with someone you enjoy. And leave the rest up to God.
I'm assuming Sean wrote most of the questions. Otherwise it would have been difficult to get questions/answers/comebacks/more answers, etc. But perhaps there's a back channel for communication before it makes it to us.
As for the question, though, of who goes to heaven...if you're a member of a religion that believes we go to heaven, there are a few problems. First off, almost all religions seem to tell their flock that theirs is the only true religion and the rest are doomed. They try to bully people into something they call faith, and in their own particular versions of it. This is inherently contradictory. If God only lets in, say, Southern Baptists, that means that heaven will never have an overpopulation problem. Plenty of parking spaces everywhere. And since cars in hell won't work, parking's not an issue there either.
As far as harps go, the standard is that in heaven, you're issued a harp and a tuning key. In hell, you're issued a harp.
Best way to look at this appears on about page 6 of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's book, Good Omens: "God does not play dice with the universe. Rather what He plays is more like a complex and obscure form of poker, played on blank cards in a pitch black room for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time."
In other words, if God is malevolent, we're screwed anyway. If He's not, He gets to choose the criteria for admission. If He wants us to know THE right religion, He'll tell us. So far, I haven't gotten a memo about this. If He wants me to know, he knows where I am. What I ~don't~ buy is that other people know or that their interpretation is the only right one. I'm happy they feel that comfortable about the matter, but best they keep it to themselves.
I could go on, but I'll bore people. [Yes, I know: too late.]