I love to think that my mother will come to meet me after I die, bringing my granny and Bob Marley! And Curtis Mayfield. And Ray Charles. And there'll be a great gig in the sky.
And I reckon there'd be great gigs every heavenly hour. Nina Simone. Ella. Maria Callas. Tupac. John Lennon. Count Basie. And I'd be on backing vocals with all of them. And there'd be West Indian food.
And I would ask God does he have a girlfriend, and if he said no I would ask does he want a little crazy Irish one!
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http://newsweek.washingtonpost.com/onfaith/guestvoices/2010/03/will_god_want_a_girlfriend.html?hpid=talkbox1Editor note: An avid Saturday Night Live watcher in the early years of the show, I watched one evening with my girlfriend as Sinead tore up a picture of John Paul II on live t.v. I was not particularly moved to anger (more curiosity than anything) though at that time I was still within the large C Catholic sphere. I watched again when Danny DeVito, in sacred defense I suppose, got his live revenge on Sinead. I wonder, all these years later and the continuing revelations of child abuse and cover-ups within the church hierarchy, are angry faces still flush over her act of defiance? After all, we can't heap the whole history of religious child abuse on Benedict XVI's head.