Heaven is full of arseholes

“Not any love. This is not the love for your lover or the love for your brother. This is a love that cannot be acquired or learned or taught or bargained or stolen. This is a love that is born.”

“The love of god amidst any trial. The love that man has for god.”

“No, it is not. That is what your idiot theodolites thought.

The love of god is debatable. It is transferable. It is returnable. And it is doubtable. But god’s love of its children, there is no bargain, there is no debate. This is Agape. This is unconditional love. Not for man to god, but for god, to mankind, to each and every child.

God’s love is undivided. It is as pure with one as it is with another, regardless of what one might have done to another on Earth or as it is, in Heaven. Your son. Do you love him?”

“Of course,” said The Father.

“Explain this love,” said Hitler.

“I don’t know. He was my first child. When he was born it felt like my heart exploded. I cried for the first time. I started to really feel; this bitter sweet cocktail of fear and love together” “Your son did a lot of bad things. Some very bad things, in fact, but you still love him even though the effect of his wrong upset you, embarrassed you, angered you” said Hitler.

“He made a lot of stupid decisions, but he’s my son. I love him. It doesn’t matter what he does. He’s my blood, from my heart and I’ll pick up his pieces as much as I have to until he’s whole” said The Father.

“Even though he killed your daughter?” said Hitler.

“It was an accident,” said The Father.

“That’s not what your heart says,” said Hitler.

The Father said nothing.

“I had a dog once. I very much loved him in that way. I spent a week once with Goebbels and Himmler, preparing our Russian offence strategy. It was perfect. When we came back from tea the dog had chewed up all of the wooden tanks and shat on The Netherlands. I shot him immediately, but I loved him, just like you love your son. His name was Nibbles” said Hitler.

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