Me. I'm going to hell
I'm a semi-practicing Catholic but had a bit of fun with a fellow meat-bag last weekend, and it was good, but then I didn't confess to a priest. So if I get hit by a truck this afternoon, it'll be straight downstairs, no passing go, no stint in the purg. Eventually I'll go to confession, whereupon if I do my penance (most times for me it's an entire rosary), I will be returned to a state of grace. At that point all will be well, and I will not have to worry about dying, or going to hell, for as long as it takes me to commit a venal sin again (usually about a week).
Drawing petty satisfaction from the thought of people (even nasty people who inconvenience you) suffering eternal damnation seems counterintuitive to me, for two reasons:
If you derive comfort from the idea of others going to the devil then IMOHO you are being just as petty and slavish as the average southern-fried bible-basher. For more commentary along this line refer to Nietzsche's ideas on bad conscience.
- If you believe in hell enough for the thought of hell to make you feel any way at all -- scared, guilty, chastened OR happy -- you perhaps ought to start wondering where you might wind up.
But that's just my religious nut side talking. Hey, if the Vandals said it was okay, then it's okay.