Pat Robertson makes me hope there is indeed a Biblical type God

[Wickerman]

and that there is indeed Hell. It is my firm hope that God explains, in painful detail, the ways Pat's sins have affected each and every poor deluded soul he has duped over the years. I hope he takes it very slow, slow enough that Pat gets to live the life of each one of those wretched beings. And then, a few eternities later, it's my further hope that God casts Pat to the Biblical Hell, into the waiting arms of Satan - yes, Say -TIN! and lets Satan have his way with Pat for several more eternities.

Them, and perhaps only then, Pat may be allowed to return to earth. This time as a cockroach. May he be a cockroach in some poverty stricken country, perhaps Zaire, where poor families attempt to capture him for food. As he scurries about attempting to flee the "hunters" may he be forced into the muddy street where a primitive donkey cart might roll over him and cause him excruciating pain, yet not kill him.

As he lies in the roadway might he look up to see a large truck approach, laden with diamonds from a near by diamond mine. As the truck rolls over him, in an instant before his demise, might he be given the gift of literacy (rather uncommon in cockroaches, admittedly) and read that the truck is from the African Development Company.

Rinse, Wash, Repeat.

That's my take, you might feel differently. We are, after all, a big tent.

[ironman202]

1. he's already a cockaroach