Purgatory – thou shalt not eat Pringles in bed whilst Netflixing

To recap, Dante is climbing mount Purgatory, of the Wedding Cake of Contrition, as I’m calling it.


He has travelled through the first two ante-Purgatory levels, the front garden and porch of Purgatory, if you will, and is now on the fourth proper terrace, and after meeting the proud, envious, wrathful, he’s hanging with the slothful. It seems sinners can pass through the levels that don’t apply to them, and just have to do time on those that do.

Apparently, the opposite of sloth is zeal. The two examples of zeal given are the Virgin Mary, as she was super excited to be knocked-up, and (rather oddly) Julius Caesar, as he was super excited about abusing power and killing folk.

Now, if you are a lazy, disinterested person, and a Christian, pay attention, as this concerns you. People held on the terrace of the slothful are forced to be constantly running. Round and round. 24 hours a day. If you snort at people in lycra who run marathons, think pastry is one of your five a day (wheat is a plant, right?) and class answering the door to the pizza guy as cardio, Purgatory is going to serve up non-stop jogging. And you can’t take an ipod. And judging by the picture above, no clothing at all will be supplied. I am no stranger to running, and just thinking about the jiggling and chaffing is making me wince. Behind the naked herd, is a puffing Garfield, lamenting his lasagne years, and all the mean things he did to Odie.

Apparently, the only way to avoid this level of Purgatory is to be really zealous, zesty and excited about stuff. Throw yourself in, reach for the stars, taste the envelope, push the rainbow, etc.

I am very excited about films featuring Tom Hiddleston, marzipan, and trips to the bookshop. I’m pretty sure that counts.