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Like all successful plagues, it will probably recede when it runs out of fuel. -wp
A word, please. I’ll try to be nice. You used to frighten me. Then you just flat-out bored me. Now I wish you’d just go away… and the truth is, you were never here to begin with. Many of us would probably find much in common with Christians or Patriots… and would get along with them just fine… IF WE EVER MET ONE. Living in Dominionist Krakkkerland, you encounter lots of folk who CLAIM to be both… who call themselves by both labels, when in fact they are neither one.
For one thing, calling yourself a “Christian” is almost a self-negating statement. It’s like saying, “I’ve never told a lie in my entire life.” Ummm… you just told one right now. When folk begin a sentence with, “as a Christian,” there’s a powerful urge to finish the statement for them… “…I would not say anything as asinine as what I am about to say.” Along with that, there are plenty of boosters and Team USA sports fans, but it’s difficult to claim loyalty to something that doesn’t exist.
As residents of the USA, we have many “least-of-these” strikes against us that should fill any reasonable person with dread of a just Deity or even plain old Karma. But again, sports fans for Team Jesus practice “Christianity” about as well as they play football. It’s a spectator sport, so a bunch of mutants have evolved to look like they’re playing “the game” better than any mortal possibly could; players with helmets of Kevlar™ or pastors with helmets of hair. Big clue: they’re not playing for the fans; they’re playing for the money.
Here’s another big clue for the “Christian Patriots:” nobody gives a crap how pious or patriotic you are. So, everybody, who are the CPs playing for? And why do they demand flag-pins and bible-babble from fake “candidates” in staged “elections?” With each generation of fakery, the resemblance to the long-forgotten original diminishes because it only has to resemble the last fake somewhat. Now… about the muscle-bound Santa Claus riding around on a cloud demanding all to kiss his ass; it’s fake.
Like the fireplace… remote-controlled gas jets behind ceramic “logs.” Yeah, yeah… it’s a “place” with fire in it… but c”mon, man… it’s a FAKE FIREPLACE. Majikal thinking. The Supreme Being that conceived the Universe aint no comic-book character. Wearing a Colts™ Jersey don’t make you a football. What is so freaking difficult? “Christian Patriots” are comic-book characters. They ain’t real. Sure, somebody who thought they were Captain Marvel© could shoot you… but Captain Marvel© didn’t do it.
There. I said it. So when the Christian Patriots® take over, I’m toast. Oh. Shit. Without extreme hermeneutical contortions, you won’t find a jot or a tittle in literary Jesus’ words about fags or abortion. May as well haul me in for that one too. What you will find is beautiful poetry that tells the Truth: that it’s a deeply personal and deeply well… deep fucking thing between you and the Universe. There should be a relationship.
That relationship would be some link between all the quantum nuh-uh to the mundane old Newtonian clockwork thing where most of the rest of us living creatures live. So I want to say this to the world: who the fuck do these people think they are? Sure, you can be both a Christian and a Patriot. Maybe. But you can not serve both God and… oh hell with it. They can wear a Universe© Jersey if they want to, but it doesn’t make them the fucking Crab Nebula.
They think we’re toast anyway. So WHY don’t they leave us the fuck alone? Not only that, but it’s high time to say fuck if you mean shit and shit if you mean fuck. I mean…
Let the dead bury the dead.
