Are Dead People Voyeurs?

CEB274F9-BD76-4B99-A978-93702D2271F0I was watching a TV show the other night when one character said to the other, “You’re father would be so proud of you. I bet he’s looking down from heaven right now with a big smile on his face.”

Yeah, right. Do people really belief that their dearly departed friends and relatives are looking down — or looking up, as the case may be — at them to see what they’re up to?

“Oh my God, Dan, that was the best sex ever. I bet your mom is looking down on you from heaven with a big smile on her face.” Oh wait, maybe it was Dan’s father who was looking up at him from hell and masturbating while watching Dan having a hot time with that blonde he picked up at that party. Hmm. Do the souls of dead people masturbate?

Do people really believe that the souls of their deceased loved ones are spending their days in the afterlife spying on their earthbound family members and pals? Do they do it all the time, or do they only do it when something extraordinarily good or bad happens?

And where’s the line? Are there boundaries, safe zones, where you can escape the prying dead eyes of the deceased? Like the bathroom, maybe. Is my mother watching me sitting on the toilet taking a dump and beaming about what a big boy I am?

Is there a statute of limitations? For example, are these dead voyeurs watching over us forever? Or are we sentenced to a finite number years after their death to be subjected to their constant observation? And how large is this circle of voyeurs? Just your parents or does it go back multiple generations and include more watchers than your immediate family and closest friends?

In the interest of full disclosure, I’m an atheist and I don’t believe in the notion of an afterlife. But I’m genuinely interested in hearing from those who are believers. Do you believe that the souls of your deceased loved ones — your parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and closest friends — are looking down at you, watching what you’re doing day in and day out?

I’m not trying to be an asshole. I really want to know what you believe. Tell me in the comments or write your own post and link it back to this post.


Song Lyric Sunday — Soul Man

Helen Vahdati chose “soul” as her theme for this week’s Song Lyric Sunday prompt. No doubt that I’m not the only blogger who will pick “Soul Man” as their song choice.

“Soul Man” was written and composed by Isaac Hayes and David Porter in 1967. It was originally recorded by the soul duo of Sam & Dave (Sam Moore and Dave Prater). The song reached number 2 on the Billboard Hot 100 charts in the US in 1967.

Isaac Hayes said that he got the idea for the song from watching the riots in Detroit on TV. It was said that if you put the word “soul” on the door of your business establishment, the rioters wouldn’t burn it. The word “soul” became a galvanizing kind of thing for African Americans, according to Hayes, and it had an effect of unity, it was said with a lot of pride.

Hayes said, “Why not write a tune called ‘Soul Man’? All you had to do was write about your personal experiences, because all African Americans in this country at the time had similar experiences. But we realized that in addition to being an African American experience, it was a human experience, and therefore it crossed over and became very commercial.”

When this song was written, there was no clear definition of a “Soul Man.” After Isaac Hayes came up with the title, David Porter wrote the rest of the lyrics based on what he thought a Soul Man would be like.

In November 1978, Dan Akroyd and John Belushi, calling themselves the “Blues Brothers,” performed the song as the “cold opener” of an episode of Saturday Night Live. It was later released as a single, which reached number 14 in February 1979.

Here are the lyrics to the song.

Comin’ to you on a dusty road
Good lovin’, I got a truck load
And when ya get it, huh, ya got some
So don’t worry, ’cause I’m comin’

I’m a soul man, wow
I’m a soul man
I’m a soul man, woah, heh
I’m a soul man
And that ain’t all, huh

Gots what I got the hard way
And I’ll make it better each and every day
So honey, don’t you fret, huh
‘Cause you ain’t seen uh, nothin’ yet

I’m a soul man, oh road
I’m a soul man, play it Steve
I’m a soul man, ha
I’m a soul man, oh

I was brought up on a side street, yes maam
I learned how to love before I could eat
I was educated from good stock
When I start lovin’, oh I can’t stop

I’m a soul man
I’m a soul man
I’m a soul man, yeah
I’m a soul man, look

Grab a rope and I’ll pull you in
Give you hope and be your only boyfriend
Yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah), uh

I’m talking about a
Soul man, I’m a
Soul man, and you
Soul man, aah
Soul man, hold on
Soul man, I’m a
Soul man, and you a
Soul man, and you’re a
Soul man, hold on

Run for Your Life

8dfd3d9c-ecee-410d-8623-8f7f49f77245-18206-00000be8e04fe5b5“You need to stop staring at him,” Seth said.

“Have you no soul?” Carol cried. “He’s standing out there in the pouring rain. He’s begging for us to let him.”

“No, we can’t let him in,” Seth insisted. “He’s diseased. He has the infection and if we let him in, he will kill us.”

“What happened to him?” Carol asked.

“When he was in the Maui six months ago, he was attacked by a puffer fish,” Seth explained. “Not many people realize that the puffer fish has a stronger bite than a piranha. Plus, they are poisonous and there is no known antidote.”

“But he obviously didn’t die from the poison,” Carol said. “So what’s wrong with him?”

“The poison didn’t kill him, but it infected his brain,” Seth said. “It made him insane and violent. He killed his wife last month and now he goes around biting people and infecting them, turning those he bites into zombie-like creatures.”

“Seth,” Carol screamed. “He’s pounding on the window! It’s starting to break.”

Seth grabbed Carol’s hand. “Run, Carol, run for you life.”

Written for Teresa’s Three Things Challenge. The three things are puffer fish, soul, and staring.

SoCS — Hollowed Out

I thought we completed each other.
I thought we made each other whole.
I thought we two were one.

4B394077-F0D7-4CF3-B9A2-7C2EECBD9A9EBut then you plunged that dagger deep into my heart.
You doused my light.
You ripped out my soul.
You soured my spirit.

I am now an empty, hollow shell of the man I once was.

The man who only wanted to fill your soul with hope.

But who now only wants to fill your hole with soap.

Written for today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt from Linda G. Hill. We are to use “empty” and/or “hollow” in our posts.