Wednesday, October 24, 2001

I got into a notion again. You see, much of my inhereted kinfolk have what I would call a stange prediliction towards religion. Which is not to say that they live their lives by the credos that they so vehemently adhere to, but I'm not here to name names or point fingers so I'll just get on with my diatribe and try not to scrunch too many feelings, particularly those who live in close proximity to my person.

This really started about a month and a half ago, with that whole WTC tragedy, and some bizarre upsurge in the amount of people packing the churches and congregation halls, apparently harboring the idea that airlines are least likely to crash into churches-- but I have no true insight into that, so I'll leave it. What I would like to remark upon is the irony of it-- someone, certainly smarter than I, once remarked that prayer is the last refuge of the wicked-- as illustarted by hordes of non-churchgoers flooding the churches under the guise of praying for the souls of the departed, whether they knew any of them or not. When in reality, and I don't care-- I'll say it if no one else will, they're praying for themselves. They are afraid now, of whatever dastardly deeds they think they have done, of whatever metaphysical or actual crimes that they may be guilty of, of popping open a powdery envelope and choking into the great beyond.

Which is utter shit and I know it, and you know, and I hope that they all know it too. Because we are all still more likely to slip and fall in the bathtub, or get mowed down by a drunk driver, and there are no candlelight vigils for slip-and-fall deaths. Sure, sure, I know about the whole deal with drunk drivers, yadda yadda yadda. I don't drink, at all, so I can't condone those who operate motor vehicles under the influence, but I also can't condone the SUV piloting Cell-phone addicts that drive like there is a nest of fire ants in their crotch either. Just what is so fucking important that it can't wait?

But back to praying for people that you don't know. It falls into my general category of General Religious Participation. Prayer is one of the things that you do. Because it assuages you. It makes you feel better. A hand tied fly at the end of a fishing line does nothing until it is cast, so by that logic I presume a prayer does nothing until it is made. Unfortunately, that hand-tied fly has a better chance of hooking Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster than that prayer does of changing the falling attitude of a random dust mote in the church basement. Words only have power to those who are listening-- do you see where I"m going with this?

The world affects everybody-- we all live in it, on it, subsist off of it. We cannot, in any manner of conscience, speak sweet, assuaging phrases out of the same mouth that we use to bite our chunk out of the planet. Cause apparently, money can buy us out of everything except dying, and all of the prayerful are scared shitless that they're wrong, and maybe they'll plummet into a pit that leads into eternal nothingness, or perhaps they'll have to come back and pay some kind of a fee for all of the nasty shit they did the last time around.

But say I'm wrong, and I end up burning like a torch. At least my conscience will be acceptably clear.

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