Not all heavenly pleasures in popular media are loud and competitive. A fascinating counter-genre has emerged: slow content. Think of the BBC’s Slow TV—hours of train journeys through Norwegian fjords. Or the explosion of ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response). These genres intentionally strip away narrative conflict to offer a different kind of divine pleasure: stillness.
In theological terms, this is contemplative pleasure. Medieval mystics called it "the quiet of the cloister." Today, it is a 10-hour YouTube loop of rain falling on a window. Popular media has learned that the opposite of heaven is not hell; it is noise. Consequently, content creators now sell silence, slowness, and sensory gentleness as premium heavenly goods.
Perhaps the most potent (and problematic) manifestation of heavenly pleasures lies in influencer culture. Scroll through Instagram or TikTok, and you will see a digital Elysian Fields: perfect bodies, perfect lighting, perpetual vacations, and meals that look painted by Botticelli. heavenly pleasures 8 reality kings 2024 xxx w link
These are performative heavens. The influencer stands as a gatekeeper, showing you paradise while subtly reminding you that you are not yet inside. The pleasure is voyeuristic. You consume the image of someone else’s bliss.
Yet, this creates a unique form of contemporary angst: FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) as original sin. In traditional religion, sin separated you from God. In popular media, not buying the product, not traveling to the destination, or not achieving the "aesthetic" separates you from the heavenly pleasure loop. Reality entertainment—from Keeping Up with the Kardashians to Selling Sunset—is the documentary evidence that this influencer heaven exists. The tragedy is that it exists only for the select few. Not all heavenly pleasures in popular media are
So, where does this leave the thoughtful consumer? Is all reality entertainment and popular media a cheap counterfeit of transcendence? Not necessarily.
There are moments—rare and unscripted—where popular media accidentally touches the hem of the divine. Think of the genuine tears of joy on Ted Lasso when a character forgives an enemy. Think of the awe-inspiring nature cinematography in Planet Earth. Think of a live musical performance streamed during lockdown that created a global, simultaneous emotional embrace. Or the explosion of ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian
These are authentic glimpses of heavenly pleasures—not because they are perfect, but because they connect us to something larger than the algorithm. They involve vulnerability, surprise, and love.