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It’s said that misery loves company: so, apparently, do dead people. There’s no other reason I can think of for their burning desire to kill off as many bystanders as possible, with a plethora of dramatic effects.

I can imagine it’s not a bundle of laughs hanging around in the afterworld when you can’t stand up, there’s no alcohol, and you’re dressed for all eternity in your shift. And while I can share the selfish notion that if I’m miserable, … (read more)