Hell and damnation have been in my consciousness since I was Wee Lad in Catholic grade school. The black-habited Sister Mary Aquanata, my 3rd grade teacher, very "Darth Vader-like," had a mission, she had me convinced that I had a one-way ticket to "The House of Damnation," and I was free to cash in my ticket at any time.
For some reason, this did not scare the "Be-Jesus" out of me. I sort of resigned myself to Hell, and figured, I might as well accept my fate, and try to live my life the best I could. I never thought I'd win that old nun over. Hah! Funny. I am kind of surprised at the "Spiritual Gumption" of that Wee Lad. Maybe it was also a bit of laziness, you know the power of goofing off. Still, even then I had a little bit of that rebellious spirit animating me. Okay, Heaven was not for me, I'd have to make the best my days on the planet. No choir of Angels for me. "I've got nothing Ma, to live up to..." - B. Dylan
Today, I'd say "The House of Damnation" is always with us. I lean to the Jean-Paul Sartre idea that "Hell is Other People." Right. Be careful who you choose to hang with, pick your poisons carefully, everything counts. Damnation is around every corner. Of course, the best parties are found in Hell, but that burning heat is everlasting! Yikes! Step lightly dear Pilgrim!
