A Brief History Of Heaven & Hell

A Cosmic Seraglio?

The notion of a celestial paradise, presided over by the god(s), dates back to archaic Sumer.  Sumerian myth placed the sacred grove (associated with “Abzu”) at Eridu.  The Sumerian term “Edin” was used for a verdant meadow in which a pristine, life-giving stream flowed.  (That was over a thousand years prior to the composition of Abrahamic lore.)  The stream was associated with the magical “Hubur” (river of the Netherworld; river of Creation).  In this grove was a Tree of Life. {5}

According to Sumerian lore, the primeval man and woman, Enki and Nin-hursag, dwelled there.  It was a place of fecundity and tranquility…until…things went awry due to the misdeeds of men.  (This might sound familiar.)

In Persian myth, the term for a garden paradise was “[a]Pari-Daeza”.  The hero, Jamshid saves the world by making a sacred garden on a mountain [“hursag” / “kur”] of cedars–replete with a Tree of Life (“Gaokerena”) and a life-giving river.

The iconography of a Tree of Life can also be found in archaic Urartu as well as in ancient Turkic / Mongol communities; and even early Judaism employed the idiom as “Etz Chaim”.  Taoist lore tells of a Tree of Life that bares magical fruit (a peach of immortality).  Ancient Norse lore tells of “Yggdrasil”.  And in Mohammedan lore, the tree in Paradise is referred to as the “Sidrat al-Muntaha” [Lote Tree].  That was likely a spin-off of antecedent tales of heavenly trees.  Notably: In the Book of Revelation, we read about “the tree of life, which is in the midst of the Paradise of God” (2:7).  Later: “In the middle of its street, and on either side of the river, was the tree of life, which bore twelve fruits…every month.  The leaves of the tree were for healing the nations” (22:2).  Evidently, heaven even has streets!

It is likely that the portrayal of walls, gates, streets, gardens, etc. are based on the ideation of a heavenly Jerusalem (qua City of God), whereby paradise is more a CITY than a pastoral landscape.  For the peculiar specificity of these descriptions, see Appendix 3.

The leitmotif of a walled garden–lush and idyllic–to which worthy souls were spirited in the after-life seems to have transcended culture.  In ancient Persian (i.e. Zoroastrian) theology, the venue was known as “pari-daeza” [“walled garden”; based on the Old Avestan “paridayda”].  That was derived from the Old Assyrian “pardesu”, which was rendered “pardaysa” in Aramaic.  “Paradise” was rendered “paradeisos” in Koine Greek; and, later, “firdaus” in Classical Arabic.

Judaic lore posits “Gan Eden”…which would eventually be the basis for many conceptions of the Christian heaven–a pastoral venue where the lion lay with the lamb amongst budding flowers flowing streams of milk and honey.

Tales also emerged of the blissful gardens of “Erytheia” in ancient Greek myth.  In Norse mythology, “Glasislundr” / “Glasir” was Old Norse for “Gleaming Grove”–a verdant grove located in the realm of Asgard, outside the doors of Valhalla.  In the Prose Edda, it was described as “the most beautiful place among gods and men”, with trees bearing golden red leaves.

And later still, Renaissance Europeans posited “Arcadia”: a haven of pastoral bliss.  (The etymology was based on the verdant Greek province by the same name.)  Other versions included Shangri La (based on the Mongol settlement in China) and the luxurious panacea known as “Cockaigne”, popular amongst the peasantry.  Such utopian visions infused medieval folklore.

Meanwhile, ancient sailors used to speculate about the “Fiddler’s Green”: a wonderful place where great sailors went after they “passed on”.  The general theme of a DESIRABLE hereafter (for those who are worthy) has been standard in theologies around the world.  Indeed, many ancient civilizations tended to posit otherworldly paradises.

The Sumerian paradise was associated with the land of “Dilmun” and a “hursag” [mountain] known as “Mashu” [twins].  It was portrayed alternately as a verdant cedar forest or a bejeweled garden-of-the-gods.  (Note: the Sumerian term “Edin” meant meadow.)  It was a mythic place visited by such deities as Enki and Enlil.

Ten more notable heavens from ancient times:

• Ancient (Zoroastrian) Persians posited the walled garden known as “pairi-daeza” [alt. “Firdows”; “Paradise”].
• Ancient Egyptians posited “Sekhet-Aaru” [reed fields].
• Ancient Greeks posited “Elysium” (a.k.a. the “Elysian Fields”).
• Ancient Chinese posited “Tian” [heavenly realm].
• Ancient (Shinto) Japanese posited “Takama-ga-hara”.
• Ancient Altaic / Turkic peoples posited “Uch-mag”. (alt. “Uçmag”).
• Ancient Norse posited “Asgard” (esp. its great hall, Valhalla); alternately conceived as “Folkvangr”.  Also note the celestial home of the Vanir, “Vana-heim[r]” {25}
• Ancient Celts posited a land of eternal youth and endless abundance known as “Annwyn” (alt. the “Otherworld”).
• Ancient Irish posited the Edenic “Tir Na Nog”, a place of eternal youth.
• And the Aztecs posited the thirteen heavens–the principal of which was “Tlalocan”.

Thus the motif of an afterlife Paradise goes back to the Bronze Age.  To this day, practitioners of Wicca still posit the “Summerland”. 

The Anglicized “heaven” is based on Anglo-Saxon precursors, which all alluded to the heavens qua SKY.  (Such a semiotic conflation is commonplace–as with “Tian” in ancient Chinese theology.)  The etymology is comprised of a smattering: The Old English term for the heavens was “heofon” (which–once Christianized–came to connote “the place where god dwells”).  Old Saxon was “heban” / “hemmel” / “himil”.  And Old Norse was “himinn”.

Here are a dozen more versions of paradise that abide in the present era:

• Hindus posit the “Svargas”; alternately “Vaikuntha”
• Jains posit the “Deva-lokas”, most notably: “Siddha-sila”
• Theravada Buddhists posit “Tavatimsa” (alternately “Tushita”; “Brahma-loka”)
• Pure Land Buddhists posit “Sukha-vati” (i.e. Pure Land)
• Mahayana Buddhists posit the “Dhyanas”
• Chinese Buddhists posit “Shambala”
• Zoroastrians posit “Frashokereti”
• Jews posit the terrestrial “Olam Haba” (alternately: a celestial version of “Gan Eden”)
• Kabbalists posit the celestial “Shamayim” [from the Aramaic, “sh[a]may[in]”] {1}
• Syriac Christians posit the realm of “naheere” [light]: “sh[a]may[in]”
• Nicene Christians posit a terrestrial Kingdom Come: “Paradeisos” / “Ouranos” [Koine Greek]
• Muslims posit “Jannah” (alt. “Firdaws”, from the Persian “pairi-daeza”)

All of these otherworldly realms offer their own assortment of enticements.  In every case, the portrayal is of a magical wonderland to which one is whisked after dying.  When the authors of the Koran wrote about Jannah, they were merely re-branding an old leitmotif…though in a comically puerile manner.

Upon surveying the depiction of an afterlife paradise across cultures, we will notice that the accoutrements of the venue are adjusted according to that for which the target audience might be longing.  Shaded pavilions held special appeal for Arabians, who sought reprieve from the scorching sun.  The Norse “Valhalla”, meanwhile, was a great hall with a hearth to keep people warm and cozy from the frigid weather outside.  Vikings were not worried about finding shade…any more than Bedouins were worried about having a source of heat.  Being protected from the harsh elements meant different things to different people; so fantasies varied accordingly.

Some depict a celestial place that serves as the abode of the gods—as with Mount Olympus in Greek mythology, Asgard in Norse mythology, and Saudharma-kalpa in Jain mythology.  (There’s also X Lok[a] in Hindu mythology; where X = Bhu[var] / Svarga / Indra / Mahar / Go / Radha-Krishna / Jana / Tapar / Brahma / Satya / Vaikuntha.)  I explore the many variations of this in my essays on “Mythemes”; where I note that such an abode oftentimes thought to be at the peak of a special mountain.

If one wants to witness a description of the average adolescent male’s daydream, look no further than the Koran’s portrayal of heaven.  It is precisely what one thinks one might want if one doesn’t put much much thought into it.  To the flowing streams of milk and honey, it adds fetching young girls (and boys), as well as comfy couches and–as with the Norse Valhalla–a sumptuous feast.  The appeal is relatively straight-forward.  The same psychical mechanism is at play as the one depicted in Hieronymus Bosch’s “Garden of Earthly Delights”.

Designed for interminable tedium, Jannah demonstrates a staggering lack of imagination. Indeed, it’s what the most simple-minded people might fantasize about in moments of carefree reverie. The Koran’s portrayal of Jannah is as daft as it is overwrought.  Its features are reminiscent of any daydreaming adolescent. {5} 

Being a venue of rewards for the chosen, Jannah is alternately known as the “Garden of Pleasure” or “Garden of Eternity”; and is also referred to as Eden and Firdaus.  Some variation on “gardens beneath which rivers flow” is mentioned over three dozen times throughout the Koran–presumably because TWO dozen repetitions of this trope was deemed inadequate. {2}  Rainbows and daffodils and fountains of maple syrup would have been a nice touch as well, but there were only so many ideas floating around the Middle East at the time. 

We are told of a bacchanal–replete with angelic concubines, comfy couches, sumptuous feasts, and shaded pavilions.  The coterie of “houri” are wide-eyed and large-breasted.  The feasts include an endless supply of wine.  And the shaded pavilions are furnished with couches that have been upholstered in resplendent fabrics.  No kidding.  If one were to have designed an astral paradise as a horny teenager, this is roughly what one would have contrived.  (Had it been today’s millennials instead of medieval Bedouins concocting this paradise, there would have been video games and and endless supply of Doritos rather than brocade fabrics and an endless supply of grapes.)

The inclusion of wine in this celestial bacchanalia is rather befuddling, as 5:90-91 informs us that alcohol is a contrivance of Satan.  It is quite peculiar that the work of the devil is rendered a key feature of heaven.  The exemption seems to come from the fact that the wine in Paradise is non-intoxicating.  But is this because the substance of the wine is somehow altered or because our post-death physiologies are magically rendered immune to intoxication?  (No matter; there are rivers of both milk and honey to drink as well.)

41:31 notifies us that in heaven, we will be able to have anything our hearts’ desire, and be provided whatever we request…constantly…forever.  Does this sound like a worthwhile existence?  No progress, nothing to which one might aspire, nothing the learn, nothing to improve, no need for endeavor.  PLUS: no novelty, no adventure, not aspiration.  There would be no wondering about; no wondering if.  What is putatively sublime would eventually be insipid.

The initial titillation would soon degenerate into an unbearable tedium.  All the luxury would become mundane.  Ecstasy would steadily turn into banality.  The sex would eventually lose its novelty.  Coitus with angelic concubines would become a matter of routine rather than of delight.  The euphoria would slip into monotony.  (Imagine a day-long orgasm.  After an hour, it would cease to confer rapture, and start to become wearisome.)

One might wonder how this (putatively) omniscient super-being is able to design anything worthy of the name “heaven” when he doesn’t PERSONALLY know what it’s like to fall in love, to have an epiphany, or to experience satisfaction after accomplishing a difficult feat (that is: achieving a sought-after goal after having overcome substantial obstacles).  Endeavor is the existential ballast of all human life.  An existence without aspiration is bereft of humanity.

Note that heaven has GATES.  (Why, exactly, is anyone’s guess.)  In the Book of Revelation, we read: “The city had no need of the sun or of the moon to shine in it, for the glory of God illuminated it.  The Lamb is its light.  And the nations of those who are saved shall walk in its light, and the kings of the earth bring their glory and honor into it. Its gates shall not be shut at all by day; there shall be no night there” (21:23-25).  So the gates are THERE, but not to serve the normal purpose; as they are always OPEN.  They’re there for decorative purposes only.  Likewise, in the Koran, we are notified of gates in 15:43-44 and 39:71-73.  (The gates are made of pearls, by the way.  See Appendix 3.)

Intriguingly, the Koran even announces that heaven is protected by guards.  (Yes, the pearly gates have BOUNCERS.) {19}

According to the Koran, there are seven layers to heaven (or seven heavens, configured in layers). {17}  Bukhari’s Hadith even populates each layer with different figures, according to themes–a motif that originated in Sumerian cosmology. {3}  This can also be found in Judaic / Kabbalistic, Hindu, Jain, and Buddhist cosmology.

It is unclear what it meant by numerous “heavens”–that is: whether it means that “the heavens” (qua outer-space) have seven layers or that HEAVEN (qua after-death Paradise) is comprised of seven layers.  In any case, the Hadith assign each layer a name: Jannat an-Na’im [Garden of Delights], Jannat al-Khuld [Garden of Immortality], Ma’wa [Refuge], Al-Muqam al-Amin [Place of Trust], Dar as-Salam [House of Peace], Dar al-Muaqaamah [House of Permanence], and “Adn” [the celestial version of Eden].

In any case, the Koran explains that the lowest level is equipped with LAMPS for our protection (in keeping with the Persian astronomy antedating the new-fangled theology), per 41:12.  Moreover, heaven has pathways (per 51:7).  These numerous pathways IN heaven mustn’t be confused with the singular “Straight Path” TO heaven.

Meanwhile, the Koran specifies that the “Gardens” of which heaven is comprised are those of Eden itself. {18}  So does this mean that heaven is here on Earth, as Jehovah’s Witnesses believe?  Or is heaven simply a NEW Eden (i.e. a CELESTIAL one)?

Apparently, un-bridled hedonism is the selling-point of this (purported) after-death life.  This is ironic, as heaven is thereby the epitome of may of the things that were deemed sinful DURING life.  Presumably, everything in heaven is automatically rendered halal.

So why is the hereafter for “the chosen” tailored in this way?  To put it crudely (though accurately): It’s all about nookie (and the satiation of other animal appetites). {20}  And, remember, the Koran (15:48) informs us that nobody ever gets tired–or needs sleep–in heaven.  This is a common theme.  The otherworld in Welsh/Celtic mythology (“Annwyn”) is portrayed as a world of delights where there is no disease is and food is forever plentiful (as attested in the “Mabinogion” from the 12th century).  It is considered the land of eternal youth…where there is, yes, plenty of great sex.

We encounter the same assurances in the New Testament.  The Book of Revelation tells us that those who are saved “shall neither hunger anymore nor thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any heat; for the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them and lead them to living fountains of water.  And god will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (7:16-17).  Marvelous.  As with John of Patmos, the Koran’s authors had a keen sense of what motivated MEN (i.e. the target audience for their message).  In this way, the early Mohammedans–as with Pauline / Nicene Christians–could be said to have been savvy Machiavellians.

We all operate within an incentive structure.  To wit: We tend to do what we’re incentivized to do (and, conversely, avoid doing what we’re dis-incentivized to do).  Among other things, charismatic leaders master the art of constructing incentive structures in a way that best suits their purposes.  Those who are especially shrewd do so with staggering aplomb.

Of this, we might ask: Does the Creator of the Universe really need to BRIBE his creation with such enticements in order to promote piety?  This seems to be a case of existential extortion.  This seems to give us clues has to who REALLY authored the Koran.  For human leaders would not hesitate to resort to such bribery–farcical as the payment may be (ref. 26:180).  This indicates the nature of the Koran’s authorship.

Couple the (eminently enticing) prospect of endless carnal indulgence with the (just as enticing) prospect of paramount glory (garnered from fighting for a divinely-ordained cause)…and one has quite a bundle of tasty carrots.  It is no wonder, then, that the earliest impresarios of Islam were so astoundingly successful at promulgating their new-fangled cult throughout Asia Minor.

The retinue of sultry vixens is elaborated upon in the Hadith.  The minimum number of “houri” (72) comes from the Hadith, not the Koran.  And it’s AT LEAST 72 “houri”; many more if you’ve been EXTRA pious.  All that we find in the Koranic passages listed above is that they are “wide-eyed” (also “large, beautiful eyes”), that they are fair, virgin, and large-breasted, and that some of the servants at one’s disposal are “young [handsome] boys” (a.k.a. “ghulam”; ref. 56:17).  Marvelous. {4}

The notion of voluptuous, angelic concubines in the hereafter is lifted directly from ancient Persian myths of paradise (from the Old Iranian, “pari-dayda”, meaning a seraglio (walled-in garden).  The “houri” were likely inspired by a romanticized version of the “peri” / “pari” from Zoroastrian theology.  The (Palmyrene) Syriac term “huriyya” is an adaptation of the Pahlavi.  And that’s where the authors of the Koran got the idea for “h[o]ur[i]”.

A cheeky hypothesis has been put forth that “houri” was a mistranslation from the Syriac (in which the “Recitations” were originally composed) of a similar term for “white raisins”–as they are “served”, “as fair as pearls”, and “of perpetual freshness”.  However, the theory does not hold water, as raisins cannot be “gazelle-eyed” / “wide-eyed” with a “modest gaze”; nor can they be said to have large breasts (78:33); nor can they be described as “companions of equal age” to whom a man can be wed.  Aside from the fact that one can’t fuck a raison, it is quite clear that “houri” comes from the angelic being of the EXACT SAME NAME in Persian theology.

The Koran specifies that the houris are a reward for what the chosen had DONE during life (ref. 56:24).  Yet Surah 44 refers to it as the “Maqam al-Amin”, which means “place of the faithful”.  So was it their deeds or their Faith that gained them admittance?  This seems unclear.  We might note, though, that the “houri” are not provided ONLY for sex.  These everlasting youths will go around with flagons and cups of libations which cause neither headaches nor intoxication.

Think about it: When a man (for we are talking about MEN) becomes thoroughly convinced that he has a choice between sex with an entourage of buxom maidens vs. burning in eternal fire, the decision is not a difficult one to make.  If securing the former option requires doing even the most outlandish things…every waking hour…for the duration of one’s life…then one will only be too eager to oblige.

And, by the way, gay men are going to hell–a disclaimer confirmed by 26:165-166 (though refuted by the fact that some of the “houri” are said to be pretty, young boys; per 56:17).

Pitting the promise of getting laid against the threat of excruciating agony is as straight-forward an ultimatum as an ultimatum can possibly be.  In a way, the devising of such an ultimatum is a stroke of genius.  For it would compel ANY man–assuming he was thoroughly convinced of its veracity–to undertake even the most asinine enterprise.  (Bear in mind that the Koran is explicitly addressed to men.)

The Koranic incentive structure is largely a matter of re-tooling the sales pitch that originated in earlier Abrahamic lore: cosmic carrots vs. cosmic sticks.  Suffice to say, the earliest impresarios of the religion used a marketing campaign that was guaranteed to entice prospective converts.  (Really?  My own harem?  AND my very own set of golden bracelets?)  One can only imagine the world-weary Bedouin men listening to the early proselytizers: “All that…plus an endless supply of WINE?  Sweet!  Count me in.”  One imagines that if the Koran were written today, the authors would have thrown in a luxury sports car of one’s choice…and maybe even a free Sony Playstation.

In the Koran, Jannah is comprised of what is dubbed gardens of Pleasure / Delights / Bliss. {21}  This makes perfect sense, as Koranic salvation is not about transcendence; it is all about the slaking of primal urges. {16}  25:16 even goes so far as to notify the (male) audience that those in heaven can have “whatever they wish”.  Really?  Is THAT what heaven is all about: getting anything you want?  It would seem that the eternal satiation of unbridled gluttony is not the highest state of being for sentient creatures.  Surely, there is a mort exalted spiritual existence than an unlimited supply of cheap gratification; but one would never know it by reading about Jannah.

And so it goes: Sign up, and you can get all the nookie you can handle…and all the sumptuous dining you could ever want…plus lots of jewelry.  It’s a marketing campaign that any frat-boy could appreciate: In the hereafter, fuck and feast to your heart’s content…while wearing really nice attire.  (It’s almost as if the authors were inspired by watching tacky beer commercials.)  Supplicants are thus rewarded for a lifetime of ritualized groveling.  Because of having engaged in a routine of daily truckling, they are worthy of admission into this fantastical cosmic seraglio.

Of course, heaven–as depicted in the Koran–would be an excruciatingly boring place.  Presumably (and this is, indeed, a presumption), one can only do so much fucking and feasting before it starts to become, well, rather mundane.  This seems to conflate constant titillation with chronic tedium; as each invariably becomes the other.  An existence without aspiration, without striving (or overcoming), without either productivity or creativity, would be an utterly pointless existence indeed.  Yet THIS is the existence all Muslims are promised after they die.  (For the matter of reconciling sanctity with lasciviousness, see Appendix 2.)

Eligibility in the Abrahamic religions primarily has to do with proper worship and following the rules.  To gain admission into this exclusive luxury resort, one need only stay in the good graces of the cosmic overlord–a pathologically vindictive super-being that demands to be appeased.

Leading to the hereafter (“akhira”) is a Straight Path [“Sirat al-Mustaqim”].  To get there, one need only follow instructions during “this” life (“dunya”).  But what, exactly, is THERE?  We might take pause and review the logistics of Koranic heaven.  A few minutes’ thought reveals the book’s depiction of heaven to be peculiarly frivolous (not to mention, comically puerile).

In an ironic sense, the Koran’s depiction of heaven is a crude caricature of itself.  That is to say, to simply describe what the Koran says about the afterlife is to find oneself providing a caricature.  (Is it possible to caricature a caricature?) 

The layout of this luxury-resort-in-the-sky is rather simple: eight gates and eight spaces, each one decorated with brocade.

The elect will dwell amidst thornless “Lote” trees, in the shade of acacia and pavilions.  One will spend eternity strolling through gardens of abundant fruit, with rivers flowing beneath; lounging on couches upholstered in well-woven cloth (situated so that residents can sit facing each other); and feasting at exquisite banquets.

Each resident will be provided with robes, golden bracelets, and perfumes.

The authors of the Koran admonish us to refrain from being driven by some of our basest desires; yet then proffer a teleos that behooves us to be motivated by our basest desires.  It is a case of theological hypocrisy (or duplicity).  That the authors also saw fit to throw in plenty of shade (and lush vegetation to boot) hints at the provincial concerns of their target audience.

The celestial luxury resort that is Jannah is primarily based on the license to indulge in earthly pleasures…forever.  In other words, the hereafter is predicated on an infatuation with the spoils of “dunya”–an irony lost on many Muslims who extol the former whilst decrying the latter.  The vision appeals to our basest instincts; so it has purchase on the minds of supplicants.  Per the Koran, the after-death life (“akhira”) exists to satisfy two primal cravings: hunger/thirst and carnal desire.  These are two appetites that, according to the Koran, we will continue to have–but won’t actually need–in the hereafter.  Heaven, then, is about satiating these yearnings, constantly, without end.  To qualify for this spectacular prize, one need only follow orders.

There are some problems with this proposal.  Let’s look at two of the most glaring.

First: The eternal urge to eat / drink.  This is a peculiar thing for immortal beings to have.  Will we become hungry in heaven?  Denizens of Jannah will not need to eat to survive; so when–nay, HOW–would they become famished?  After all, we enjoy eating most when we are in a state of hunger.  Other than merely tantalizing our taste-buds, the satisfaction derived from eating is the temporary slaking of a nagging esurience…which must arise again and again…just as much of the satisfaction derived from drinking is the temporary quenching of thirst.  If it’s delicious, then all-the-better.

So, we might wonder: In heaven, is hunger / thirst artificially-induced at various increments?  Presumably, there is no defecation / urination in paradise; so all the food consumed doesn’t actually go anywhere…or, for that matter, do anything.  People just drink and eat because it’s yummy.  Digestion is not part of the picture…nor is nutrition.  It’s all just about the sensation of taste.

Other questions arise: Do we get to drink and eat whatever we want?  I love Nacho Cheese-flavored Doritos.  Does that mean I get to chow down on an endless supply of them, constantly, for eternity…without ever having to worry about my health?  And do I get to make myself hungry whenever I wish?

Second:  Libidinal drives.  This is addressed via the provision of a coterie of angelic beings with optimized female anatomies.  Thus at one’s disposal are busty angelic courtesans with which to engage in on-demand coitus for all eternity.  Jannah is not so much a place of serenity as it is a crucible of hedonism.  The cosmic seraglio, then, is more like a cosmic bordello.

But “houri” are not HUMAN partners; they exist merely to serve men’s carnal appetites.  This is strange, as one of the nominal virtues of sex is the fact that one is sharing the experience with another human being. {8}

Visions of frolicking through a sunlit meadow as harps play.  We are invited to fantasize about a place where daffodils grow as far as the eye can see, where rainbows form without rain, where trees are made of lollipops, and where waterfalls of pink lemonade flow into lagoons lined with gumdrops.  (Plus lots of hot girls eager to perform fellatio on command.)  It would seem that one can only live a life of picnics and blowjobs for so long before things became somewhat tedious.  Nothing to wonder about; nothing to aspire to.  Just endless gratification.  No adventure to embark upon; no challenge to meet.  Just eternal repose.  Hence a life bereft of all that makes makes life worth living.

In any case, that the highest spiritual state-of-being is characterized by primal appetites (both hunger and horniness) seems, at best, cheap.  That it doesn’t even involve sex with another PERSON makes it even more petty…unless, that is, we assume sex to ONLY be about bringing the man to orgasm.  (No word yet on what FEMALES get in heaven: hot angelic studs or magical vibrators.)  In Jannah, sex is clearly not to create offspring; so it is purely for idle pleasure.  In other words, it is not about bonding with another human, but simply about “getting off”.  Do the houri experience pleasure too?  After all, a hallmark of great sex is the gratification derived from satisfying one’s partner. {8}

Generally speaking, we might ask: Is the ultimate state-of-being simply a matter of physically satisfying oneself?  And doing so with such superficial delights?  (In discussing what it’s like in heaven, the Koran says NOTHING about agape or arete…or experiencing the sublime…or achieving one-ness with the universe…or bonding with other human beings.)  The concept of communing with the divine is never discussed.  For determining who qualifies, the whole matter at hand is obeisance.  Obeying commands (“hukm”) is the sole condition for gaining access to Jannah.

This inquiry can be broadened.  One might wonder: Would a “life” in the Koranic hereafter really be worth it?  For it would be an existence without the unexpected, without uncertainty, without striving.  In Jannah, there are no surprises, no mysteries, and no new achievements.  Just the same stuff in perpetuity.  Prospects for adventure or for progress would be utterly pointless.  Thus, the very substrate of our humanity would be stripped away–leaving only slothful men surrounded by a retinue of busty concubines and lots of succulent fruit.

Is this metaphorical?  No–as the Koran makes quite clear: On Judgement Day, we [the saved] “will be returned to our former state even if by then we are decayed bones”. {22}  Heaven involves a LITERAL (corporeal) resurrection (“mi’ad”) and a PHYSICAL (bodily) existence in a paradise wherein PHYSICAL (earthly) pleasures await.

When assessing Jannah, we find a place in which human existence is bereft of endeavor.  It is a place where there is nothing to overcome, nothing to learn, nothing to explore.  And, worst of all, there is nothing to shoot for.  There is no hunger but plenty of food; there is not thirst but plenty of drink; there is no fatigue but plenty of couches on which to lounge; there is not oppressive heat but plenty of shade.

Without anything to which one might aspire, one need only spend one’s days fucking and eating, basking in the gratification that one has “made it” (whilst also basking in the idea that the majority of mankind is being tortured in the meantime). {6}

Not coincidentally, on offer are precisely the exotic emoluments for which many 7th century desert wanderers would have pined: shade, comfy furniture, plenty of meat and fruit to eat, lots of wine, fancy attire, bling, and hot chicks at one’s beacon call.  It’s like spending eternity in a cheesy hip-hop music video.  (Some things never change.)  “All this can be yours too…IF, that is, you play your cards right.”  The emphasis on shade (e.g. 4:57) is especially telling, as the authors were obviously not thinking of what would have appealed to, say, Nordic Muslims (i.e. a sanctuary from the COLD–defined primarily by warmth, not refuge from oppressive heat).

Even if the Koran’s authors only intended all this as a captivating metaphor, it amounts to nothing more than shameless propaganda.  The refrain is familiar: “Buy what we’re selling, and we’ll make all your wildest fantasies come true.”

But Jannah was hardly sold as just a metaphor.  Islam–like most religions–metastasized by preying on the credulity of the (already extremely superstitious) target audience–many of them lost and desperately looking for something to hold onto.  As usual, the “trick” was to engender just the right combination of false hope, false certainty, false pride, and–most importantly–paranoia.

What, exactly, does BEING IN heaven entail?  Might this heavenly state involve some kind of communion with the divine?  Hardly.  Fucking concubines and lounging on couches while feasting on an endless supply of scrumptious fruit is not exactly what transcendence is about–though it does sound like a very fun weekend. 

A contrast may serve to illustrate the point.  What Buddhists call “nirvana” (what Hindus call “moksha” and Jain’s call “siddha-sila”) involves MOVING BEYOND earthly pleasures; NOT further immersing oneself in them.  They are a matter of liberation, not submission.  They are functions of empowerment, not of subordination.

What we are inclined to call “heaven”, then, is not a destination; it is a condition to seek in this–the only–life.  What sort of condition might that be?  In Eastern thought, it is one of liberation.  Yet even in the Abrahamic tradition, we might think of it in the same way.  Even in the Gospel of John we read: “In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to myself; that where I am, there you may be also.  And wherever I go you will know, and you will known the way” (14:2-4).

That is, enlightened conceptions of salvation involve an emancipation from worldly cravings.  Such a state is a matter of NOT taking gluttony to the extreme–as we find in the Koranic portrayal.  Rather, it is a liberation from the very things of which the Koranic heaven is the quintessence.  In other words, the Koranic heaven is a place of gluttony rather than a release from animal appetites. {8}

Jannah is essentially a luxury resort in the sky; which is simply to say that it is a physical place–replete with upholstered furniture and snazzy architecture of the sort medieval Arabian minds would have dreamt up.  It is a venue for endless earthly indulgence (rather than a state of genuine transcendence).  Gluttony as the telos of human existence: this is an integral part of the Koranic narrative; as it is a key selling point for the promulgation of the Faith.  For in the Koran’s instrumentalism-based morality, we are to be driven by the pursuit of PLEASURE–especially CARNAL pleasures.  Telling, there is no level of heaven called “Dar al-Ilm” or “Dar al-Hikma”.  This makes sense, as the target audience was not seeking Enlightenment (what is dubbed “prajna” in the East, or “arete” by the Greeks).  Bedouins were seeking to eat, drink, and get laid.  Preferably in the shade.  If one had been seeking to use oratory to lure Arabian men in the Dark Ages, the Koran’s depiction of Jannah is roughly what one would have composed.

And so DURING life, worshipping–paying tribute to / submitting to–the Abrahamic deity is effectively a means to this end: worldly pleasures in an other-worldly realm.  Islamic eschatology effectively renders probity a function of a man’s libido.  (Once they are fixated on wide-eyed, buxom “houri” ready to guzzle seaman upon request, it is rather quixotic to expect men to devote prodigious amounts of mental energy cultivating probity.)

In a nutshell, the depiction of heaven in Islam’s holy book is all about securing self-satisfaction.  Obeying the book’s vaunted protagonist–in order to appease him–is done toward this ultimate goal.  That is to say, glorifying the Abrahamic deity is all about self-interest.

Such comically supernal descriptions betray the puerile mentality behind the Koran’s composition.  A celestial luxury resort has all the sophistication of a teen’s fantasy.  It’s based sheerly on gluttony; and has all the spiritual profundity of a cheap comic book.  (It might be noted that at no point does the Koranic depiction of heaven involve what the Greeks called “arete” / “phronesis” or Buddhists dubbed “prajna”.)

When we contrast the Koranic heaven with the conceptions of heaven found in the Eastern spiritual traditions (e.g. nirvana, moksha, and siddha-sila), we see that it is a LITERAL PLACE…not some heightened “state of being” defined by connected-ness with the divine.  When, in Ancient China, heaven was equated with the divine (“Tai Di”), and thus with the source of morality, as “Tian”, carnal pleasures were not involved; nor was complimentary jewelry.  Such ideas stand in stark juxtaposition to the orgy of gluttony that is Jannah (a physical destination that is effectively a celestial luxury resort).

Supplication is a sop to the cosmic overlord–swallowed hook, line, and sinker by anxious male supplicants convinced that a lifetime of groveling will pay off in the end.  And so we are given visions of celestial bordello–a coterie of curvy concubines replete with a panoply of enticing amenities: a sumptuous buffet, rivers of milk and honey, nice attire, shaded pavilions, satin couches, AND one’s very own golden bracelets. (!)

Therein lies the rub.  The depiction for ANY people is simply designed to entice–based on the exigencies of the time and place.  Be it a warm hearth (Valhalla) or a shaded pavilion (Jannah), we are enticed by a tantalizing vision that for which we’ve longed all our lives.  This is a reminder that the touting of heaven is the ultimate scheme for controlling people en masse: keep them cowed and subservient DURING life by convincing them that it will all yield dividends AFTER life.

In the heaven depicted in the Koran, there is nothing more to look forward to but another day of relaxing…punctuated by bouts of gluttony…lounging on couches in shaded pavilions, banging angelic concubines, sipping milk and honey…even as one knows that–elsewhere–billions of well-meaning people are enduring unmitigated agony for all eternity.  (Thanks, but no thanks.  I think that would kill my appetite.)

So what might a more sophisticated conception of “heaven” involve?  Intelligent notions of the ULTIMATE STATE-OF-BEING can be found around the world.  It is usually thought to involve some kind of transcendence–bliss through liberation rather than through subjugation.  Such a state can only be achieved through some kind of enlightenment–that is: emancipation from the anxieties endemic to a frivolous worldly existence. 

Hindus and Buddhists referred to this exalted state as “nirvana” / “[vi]moksha” / “[vi]mukti”: getting past the illusory “maya” of the material world; and subsequently a liberation from “samsara” / anxiety).  The Japanese referred to this condition as “satori”.  The Greeks referred to such liberation as “ataraxia”.  Others simply call it “transcendence”.

The Stoics–followed by Kant and Schopenhauer–held that the only unconditional good is a good WILL.  This requires that one free oneself from the petty preoccupations of quotidian life.  Schopenhauer dubbed this ultimate state-of-being the life of the “aesthete”–whereby one brings oneself into alignment with the cosmic Will (the Vedic “rta”).

This all seems to be much more worthwhile than the comic bordello depicted in the Koran (though, I’ll admit, a little sex doesn’t hurt).  I’ll take “moksha” any day; god can keep his golden bracelets.