Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. — Hell’s Gate, Dante’s “The Divine Comedy” Metal! It comes from hell! — “The Metal,” Tenacious D’s “The Pick of Destiny” On Jan. 20, 2007, I will journey straight into the depths of hell. Forgive me not, for I have not damningly sinned, but rather I must trek into the bowels of northeast Wisconsin to attend a wedding in an Episcopalian church near Oshkosh. At the young age of 22, my friend, who I have known since he thought turtlenecks and thick-ribbed corduroy was cool, is getting married. This is an especially trying time, given my last experience at the wedding of a high school classmate, which shall forever live on in my memory as the “Footloose” wedding — no dancing, no drinking — just faith, love and a 9 p.m. curfew. Ill-prepared to brave the Target gift registry just yet, earlier this week I set out to clear my head, blacked out and somehow ended up wandering amid the cluttered tables of Urban Outfitters. Suddenly, the heavens parted and the fluorescent lighting sent a metallic glare to my line of vision. I was staring face-to-face with J.C. himself … on the front of a trendy flask. His two-dimensional likeness smiled at me and shrugged as I read the inscription below his figure, “What wouldn’t Jesus do?” For a brief moment, I held the holy alcohol-toting container in my little hand, thinking I had found the perfect solution to my anti-wedding sentiments — nothing like smuggling in a little Jesus juice to take the matrimonial-induced edge off. But alas, my good Christmas-Catholic morals brought me to my senses and the temptation fled my body — for the moment. It seems all too often these days that religion and pop culture are engaged in some sort of exchange program. Walk into any novelty store, and you might just walk out with a Virgin Mary nightlight under one arm and a “Jesus is My Homeboy” shirt under the next (guilty as charged, on that one). But capitalist forces aren’t solely using religious icons for their own benefit. As early as July 2005, Episcopal churches have been hosting U2Charist as a means to get younger people involved in church services and also raise money for humanitarian causes supported by the Irish rock group, such as AIDS and poverty prevention organizations. Not to worry, the messages of the church remain the same; no one is pledging their devotion to the Father, Son and the Holy Bono. Instead, they use the messages of U2’s music in place of the standard church hymns. Even in Manitowoc, Wisconsin’s own St. James Episcopal Church hosted one such event Jan. 14, employing a PowerPoint presentation containing pictures of the band and lyrics to their songs, with singing and dancing along with the rock music gaining heavy support. Across the ocean, a Vatican composer recently merged popular culture themes with faith in his own project, which paints rock music in a different light: in the form of a modern opera based on Dante’s “The Divine Comedy.” According to an article by the Catholic News Service (CNS), Monsignor Marco Frisna will use the sounds of a symphony to depict heaven, Gregorian chant to embody purgatory, and finally, hard rock, punk and metal to paint the vision of the depths of hell. The production, which Frisna hopes to premiere before Pope Benedict XVI, will feature mostly lyrics taken directly from the Dante poem set to the sounds of a 100-piece orchestra and acted out by 50 live performers. The plans for this religious stage spectacular got me thinking. In the CNS article, Monsignor Frisna said he was using rock music because of the images of “rebellion” that it invokes, but would there be a better way to paint hell? What if I were responsible for staging hell — what would this place where religion and pop culture collide sound like to me? Certainly the soundtrack to hell would not be all hard rock and punk, although some key offenders do come to mind. If I had my say, the nine circles of hell might sound a little something like this: 1) “Fergalicious” by Fergie — Upon entering limbo, the welcome wagon would start out with something a little light, something sort of fun that “blows kisses” at first but then makes you want to bludgeon the person standing next to you if the words “D-to-the-E-to-the-L-I-C-I-O-U-S” don’t stop beating you in the brain. Someone make this woman stop and go back to being the token cute female in the Black Eyed Peas. 2) “Sexy Back” by Justin Timberlake — OK, so maybe not even the song, but the epidemic of using “sexy back” as commonplace slang. Favorite example of 2006: (shouted via megaphone) “Bring sexy back; re-elect Gov. Doyle.” 3) “Smack That” by Akon feat. Eminem — Did you just rhyme Lamborghini Gallardo with Taebo? Okay, just checking. 4) “Promiscuous Girl” by Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland — Does anyone else think Nelly sold out on this one? It was exciting at first — lyrics like “Roses are red/ Some diamonds are blue/ Chivalry is dead/ But you’re still kinda cute” are hard to top — but this song was far too catchy for its own good. 5) “Hips Don’t Lie” by Shakira — This song still haunts me in my dreams. Perhaps it’s because every morning this summer my male roommate would serenade me with the sweet words of Shakira, complete with dance moves, but I can’t be sure. I’m also not lying when I say the original version from “Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights” was way better. (Shit, now I’ve just gone and admitted I actually saw that movie.) 6) “Rockstar” by Nickelback — Shout out to a former Herald sports editor, if you’re reading this: PLEASE change your damn cell phone ringtone. 7) Any song by Creed — Scott Stapp, you might have started on the Christian scene, but you are not Jesus. This band did about as much for rock music as Spam did for the American dinner. 8) “Dance With a Pimp” by Kevin Federline — … 9) “Robot Rock” by Daft Punk — A bit old school, but certainly worthy of the inner circle of hell. The song goes as follows: “Rock. Robot Rock. (guitar riff) Repeat.” To actually experience hell, pop this one in on an expansive road trip, close the windows and crank the heat, while hungover. Ashley Voss is a senior majoring in journalism. E-mail her at [email protected].