There is a dimension where angels construct palaces out of all the data generated by the humans on earth. The whole purpose of Jesus, in fact, was to get people so riled up about something that they would speed up the invention of the printing press by a couple thousand years or so. Before that, humans barely wrote anything down, and the angels only had enough materials to build some teepees.
The personal computer though, ahhhh, that’s the good stuff. Just today I saw angels working on a new level of a celestial skyscraper far larger and lovelier than anything you could imagine. They built pillars out of facebook selfies, outdated chunks of code, restaurant menus and paypal receipts. The minarets are decorated with BDSM porn; the façades are papered with chatroom dialogues about how to remove unwanted body hair.
Higher, thinner, lighter, faster climb the towers of the angels, reaching out to a heaven unknown to them. Faster, lighter, brighter, braver think the humans, embracing a universe unknown to them.
The ancient angel teepees, incidentally, are still there. Now it is only the baby angels and me who play hide and seek inside of them.