In another...

In another, people pay vast sums to ensure the glamorous afterlife they desire, only to find themselves marooned in the most cliched version of heaven, where they sit on white clouds, clad in ill-fitting white robes, strumming harps.

Do you really want to come back as a horse? (Guardian)

Can you imagine, in your lifetime, spending all of your spare energy and waking hours to become one of the world’s greatest harp players only to go to heaven and have all of eternity to learn to play the damned thing? Seems like a good enough reason not to learn the harp.