It got crowded in Heaven, so Saint Peter decided to accept only people who’d had a really bad day on the day they died. On the first morning of the new policy, Saint Peter said to the first man in line, “Tell me about the day you died.”
The man said, “Oh, it was awful. I was sure my wife was having an affair, so I came home early from work to catch her in the act. I searched all over the apartment and couldn’t find her lover anywhere. So finally I went out on the balcony, where I found this man hanging over the edge by his fingertips. So I went inside, got a hammer, and started hitting his hands. He fell, but landed in some bushes and survived. So I went inside, picked up the refrigerator, and pushed it out over the balcony. It crushed him, but the strain of hefting the fridge gave me a heart attack and I died.”
Saint Peter couldn’t deny this was an awful day and that it was a crime of passion, so he let the man enter Heaven. He then asked the next man in line about the day he died.
“Well, sir, it was terrible. I was doing aerobics on the balcony of my apartment when I slipped over the edge. I managed to grab the balcony of the apartment below me but then some maniac came out and started pounding my fingers with a hammer! I fell, but I landed in some bushes and lived! But then this guy came out again and dropped a refrigerator on me! That did it!”
Saint Peter chuckled a bit, and let him into Heaven. “Tell me about the day you died,” he said to the third man.
“Okay, picture this. I’m naked, hiding in a refrigerator…”

No, not that Hippo.
4/5 stars
Cathcart and Klein’s Heidegger and a Hippo Walk Through Those Pearly Gates begins with Ernest Becker (while I still haven’t read The Denial of Death, I did enjoy this Becker doc) and goes from there, treating various philosophical takes on the Big D in the context of “immortality systems” and elucidating them using jokes and one-panels.
Here’s another sample joke (which, beyond just being rad, equates 3^2 with 15 [2+8+5]), from the chapter “Plato, the Godfather of Soul”:
Three elderly men visit a doctor for a memory test. The doctor asks the first one, “What’s three times three?”
“285!” the man replies.
Worried, the doctor turns to the second man. “How about you? What’s three times three?”
“Uh, Monday!” the second man shouts.
Even more concerned, the doctor motions to the third man.
“Well, what do you say? What’s three times three?”
“Nine!” the third man replies.
“Excellent!” the doctor exclaims. “How did you get that?”
“Oh, easy,” the man says. “You just subtract the 285 from Monday!”
While decidedly skewed towards western philosophy, Heidegger and a Hippo does touch briefly on the subtle body and reincarnation, the history of Heaven (from Bosch onward) and even, towards the end, cloning, stasis/reanimation, Manfred Clynes‘ overclocked time-consciousness and our old transhumanist amigo, uploading. Though the connections they draw are mostly obvious (using Capek’s The Makropulos Affair to illustrate ennui ["that's Existentialist French for extreme boredom with life accompanied by lots of weary shrugs and sighs"] and Koreeda’s After Life [premiered on 9-11-98 and unrelated to Simon Funk's fine novella] to illustrate Nietzsche’s Eternal Recurrence) the duo’s delivery renders what are ultimately light overviews of heavy shit highly entertaining. Colored text is also used effectively: scattered throughout are bits of italicized dialogue between Daryl, the authors’ everyman interlocutor, and the authors, with their lines in red, like this:
Philosopher W. Allen points out that “the soul embraces the nobler aspirations, like poetry and philosophy, while the body has all the fun.” But Plato counters that while the Appetites do have all the fun, they’re actually part of the soul. This is one of the key differences in the philosophies of Plato and Allen.
For Plato, the ultimate goal of the soul is to strip off its sensuous nature and move toward knowledge of the Forms; immortality is reserved for the rational part only. In other words, contemplating the triangle trumps sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll.
He prefers a triangle to sex? This guy sounds a few Doric columns short of a Parthenon.
We urge you to withhold judgment until you’ve seen this triangle, Daryl. It isn’t any old triangle, it’s the Ideal Triangle.
Like sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll and triangle-contemplation, Heidegger and a Hippo may not lead to any form of enlightenment or immortality, but is at least an amusing way to kill a few hours en route to your ineluctable assignation with Thanatos.
Happy reading, feliz Navidad, happy Malkh and cuídate.