The church I grew up going to abhorred the use of musical instruments in worship. I recall an actual discussion about whether tapping with your foot would be using the floor as a percussive instrument. One of the results of this policy was that no one had any vested interest in learning to read music so even though out hymnal contained over 700 songs the church’s functional repertoire was about 35 songs.
Each of these 35 songs bored me to tears. I had no desire to go to heaven if it involved infinite singing.
Given the context here, you can see how I was initially repulsed at the idea of these Island of Dr. Moraeu eye-beasts seeing the same three lines in perpetuity.
You can imagine my relief to learn that NT Wright interprets this scene to be representative of something else.