![]() Gluttony: Those saddled with lard will “eat” Soylent-that viscose, plaster-like sludge-until the end of time forever bloated but never full. Lust: Those who pay too much heed to hormones will eternally swipe on Tinder sans match-surrounded by thirst traps, never to drink. Limbo: Where those poor souls who never knew wifi reside-for whom dial-up was dogma and AOL adequate. Inspired by the technological hellscape in which we find ourselves, below is a refreshed imagining of Dante’s Nine Circles of Hell: ![]() It is a slow death by a thousand clicks versus an instantaneous envelopment by mushroom cloud. Much like their cousins-weapons of mass destruction-these platforms promulgate lies used to justify the bad behavior of tired creatures and lonely ghosts the world over. Such are our modern tools of mass distraction. Scrolling and swiping, texting and TikToking, we collectively enter “dark forests” in which we “lose the straightforward path” by texting instead of talking and making memes instead of memories. Rereading these lines reminded me of the minutes, hours, days lost to the black mirrors of screens large and small. Tant’era pien di sonno a quel punto | So full was I of slumber at the momentĬhe la verace via abbandonai. Io non so ben ridir com’i’ v’intrai, | I cannot well repeat how there I entered, | For the straightforward pathway had been lost… Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura | I found myself within a forest dark,Ĭhé la diritta via era smarrita. Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita | Midway upon the journey of our life Nevertheless, the first canto opens with: What this says about us as humans, Lord only knows (literally and figuratively)… Much like John Milton’s Paradise Lost, Dante’s examination of Hell in Inferno is much more detailed and insightful than his treatment of Heaven in Paradiso. To this day, it remains one of the greatest works of world literature. The narrative poem spans three sweeping parts: Inferno (Hell), Purgatorio (Purgatory), and Paradiso (Paradise). The work of Italian Poet Dante Alighieri, its 14,233 lines are masterful in their lyricism-not one of its ninety-nine cantos contains a false note.
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