Sit on that lid, Pandora.
I have wondered about showing my photographic efforts to Professor Crowe but I have always decided against it. He’s always trying to prove the existence of ghosts. They always dodge his camera, and with good reason. Proof of the afterlife is not a good idea, not at all.
So I’ve never mentioned Death’s visits, never recounted my father’s continued haunting of the vault, never told him about the Soul Bag nor described the occasional appearance of Red Stan. I think, in his zealous fervour to find scientifically testable proof, he has never paused to consider the implications.
Why should any government restrict itself to small bombs in times of war? Why minimise civilian casualties? Why not use nuclear weapons? If Professor Crowe succeeds in proving that nobody ever really dies, then the moral restriction is lifted. Anyone can kill anyone else, with no pangs of guilt at all. They’re not really dead. They’ve just moved into a new existence. Yes, I already know all this which is why I can perform my experiments with my visitors. They usually turn up sad and lonely, and therefore they’re better off after I’ve finished with them. I don’t think it would be a good idea for everyone to realise this, though. It might make my visits to the Throat and Razor a little riskier than usual.
Consider a world where the death penalty is the easy option. Consider what will happen when science accepts the existence of life after death and sinks its teeth and claws into the subject. It won’t be long before they find the demons and let them out too. That’s not a good idea because most demons aren’t really very friendly and have very poor social skills.
In no time at all, they’ll prove reincarnation and then we’ll all be in trouble. Imagine finding out you were convicted of terrible crimes in a former life and sentenced to three life sentences. You’ve only completed one of them so it’s off to the pokey you go. Next time you’re reincarnated you’ll go straight back in.
Don’t like your life? Just kill yourself and start again. The only thing stopping many suicides is the thought that this might be it, this might be the only chance at life you get. Prove it’s not and see what happens. You won’t find a street sweeper or cleaner anywhere on the planet. Anyone stuck in any job like that is just going to jump off a building and hope they come back as royalty. They’d be wrong of course. Suicides come back as administrators which is why they all have such dead eyes and no imagination. Trust me on this. I heard it from the lips--well, teeth--of Death himself.
So I keep my photos to myself. I tape over those recordings of voices, few of which made any sensible comments anyway. I mean, what would be the point of my experimenting into the influence of terror on human biology if nobody was scared any more? I’d never get any results at all.
Death would be furious with me too. All that extra work he’d have because of me. I think Red Stan might be happy though, but I don’t like him all that much so screw him.
That’s why I don’t tell Professor Crowe about the ghosts I’ve seen, photographed and recorded. If I did, I’d ruin my experimental work and cause an enormous amount of trouble, and that would draw unwelcome attention to me and my laboratory.
So I won’t tell anyone. Not even you.
