Recently in religion Category

cleaning our own homes

The mooching, cheating spore who has derailed Darcy's life is Muslim. Or at least he's an Arab who was raised Muslim. I don't think he's practicing anymore. Regardless, the morning of the Boston marathon bombing, Darcy and I had the following conversation.

She spoke with Grave Importance. "When Cheating Spore heard about it, his first thought was I hope they weren't Muslim."

"Wait. That was his first thought?"

My first thought had been Fuck. This is horrible. My second thought was of my friends in Boston who I knew were watching the marathon.

Noting my offense, Darcy explained. "You have to understand how rough 9/11 was on him in school. Kids were really rude," she said, actually mustering condescension.

"I'm sure, since it appears to have completely destroyed his sense of empathy."

She sighed, exasperated by my self-centeredness, and tried explaining again how Cheating Spore was the real victim of 9/11 and the Boston bombing. It was then that I realized she had become his brainless Apologist-in-Chief.

I let it go. And then I let her go from my life. I barely talk to her anymore. I can watch the intellectual self-mutilation no longer.

• • •

I've thought about that moment a lot lately. In the wake of an alarming amount of police violence toward minorities, the outrage of the nation's police is channeled at Quentin Tarantino for criticizing them. Sure, his comments overreached, but he's not exactly killin' folk. Looking at zeal with which they're attacking Tarantino, I question where that outrage has heretofore been. One would think it might be directed at, say, the fellow cops who are killing civilians.

When a straight white guy says something bigoted, I'm the first to smack him down. As a straight white guy, is that not my job? To keep my own house clean? Other communities cannot act against my own with the same morality authority I can. And I expect no less from them. I can't repudiate Islamic extremists as effectively as Muslims can. With regards to police shootings, my actions don't carry nearly the weight that would thoughtful cops.' On the flip side of the same issue, I can't really be the one to say that Michael Brown isn't the best martyr for that cause. And I can't denounce the bomb-chucking demagogues in the GOP as effectively as the Republicans can.

Perhaps the desire to bitch about other communities would abate if we all stopped bitching and picked up a broom.


Farooq is one of those immigrants. You know the type. He moved here from his native Pakistan, got married, and raised American kids in America. He has also stubbornly clinged to the ways of his homeland, imposing his preferences and prejudices on his American sons. They must be perfect Muslims, even though they aren't remotely Muslim. They should fast during Ramadan. Not so much as a stick of gum. Pork? Nizzar, please. And god forbid they have a non-Muslim, non-veiled mate.

And Farooq is a dick about it.

He's in the hospital right now. He feels horrible. Doctors are scrambling to find out why. He had a theory, so he called his son. "How old were those cookies?" Farooq asked his baffled son. It turns out the old man had helped himself to some cookies in the son's refrigerator. After some soul-searching, the son decided to admit that his dad had severe marijuana poisoning. "You're supposed to eat one cookie, not a dozen."

Odds of Farooq admitting that he's baked? Nil.

And so he groans on in the hospital, praying five times a day for relief. And that no one thinks to test him for THC.

what does god need with a starship?

In a recently taped video, the White House shooter is certainly long on ambition:

"Please do not take me as a joke or as a deception. I have never felt so sure that I was sent here from God to lead the world to Zion. It's not just a coincidence that I look like Jesus. I am the modern-day Jesus Christ that you all have been waiting for."
He then begs Oprah Winfrey to put him on her show.
"My name is Oscar Ortega from Idaho Falls, Idaho, and I feel like I am the perfect candidate to get cast on your show because not only do I have a solution to make a huge impact on this world with small changes to our daily lives, I also have with me the answer to worldwide peace."
So I have a couple of questions:
  1. What does God need with the Oprah Winfrey Show?
  2. Wouldn't the Almighty know it went off the air in May?

validate me

It will come as no surprise to longtime readers that when fundamentalist Christians rub my nose in their testimony, all I hear is "Validate me!"

Theirs, after all, is a world wholly predicated upon their own specialness. All you need to do to be special too: share their beliefs. If you disagree with them, no worries. Enjoy the ravages of eternal Hell, and God bless!

You'd be hard pressed to find as good an example of zero-sum validation as religious fundamentalists.

Or so you'd think. Right up until atheists feel compelled to shit on someone else's holiday.


What the billboard says: "You know it's a myth. This season, celebrate reason."

What I read: "Validate me!"

Y'all look alike to me.

you have a friend request from self-awareness

I added a bunch of stupid church signs this morning. Enjoy.

holy holy holy shit

I just added four great new Stupid Church Signs to my museum. Seriously, what is it with these people and apostrophes?

I'm tempted to just put the YouTube link in here, but I really want you to see the whole After the Rapture Pet Care site. Seriously, guys, send me a job application. And when do we get paid?

Thanks to Katrina for the link.

Emphasis mine.

GAINESVILLE, Fla. ( — The American Civil Liberties Union has sued a north Florida school district, claiming that the Alachua County School District violated students' rights by not allowing them to wear T-shirts with an anti-Islamic message.

The civil rights organization says that while it doesn't agree with the "Islam is of the Devil" message printed on T-shirts distributed by the Dove World Outreach Center, it does support the students' constitutional right to freedom of speech.

We were grilling brats in Pittsburgh, and as is my wont, I sauteed about an order of magnitude more onions than necessary. Noticing that the middle-aged couple next to us also had brats on their grill, I offered them some onions. They gave us some truly lousy store-bought brownies in exchange.

Six hours later, they needed a favor. "Do you have jumper cables?" the man asked. And then Nelson and I dug out the cables and positioned the vehicle such that they could reach. While Nelson was performing a 17-point turn in his car, the man thanked me for helping.

"Thank you so much for doing this. Really. I'm very grateful. But I'm sure you're both Christians..."

What does that mean? That anyone exhibiting the slightest kindness must share the man's own spiritual beliefs? 'Cause that's what it sounded like. I resisted the impulse to pack up the cables and leave the couple stranded in the nearly empty parking lot. No. I would not do that. I was representing non-believers, and I would be a good witness.

"We are not," I said simply, leaving the man to his own ruminations. No more was said on the matter.

Using his bare, stadium-marinated hands, the man gave us two more truly lousy store-bought brownies for our troubles. As I hucked mine out the car window, I pointed out to Nelson that had he parked the way I'd told him to, the cars' batteries would have been right next to one another.

dobson blight

Obama's stock has taken a dive with me in recent weeks, but leave it to Rev. James Dobson to reverse the trend. Per CNN, this is what Obama said about religion in governance:

"Which passages of scripture should guide our public policy?" Obama asks in the speech. "Should we go with Leviticus, which suggests slavery is OK and that eating shellfish is an abomination? Or we could go with Deuteronomy, which suggests stoning your child if he strays from the faith?"
Sounds reasonable. Meanwhile...
A top U.S. evangelical leader is accusing Sen. Barack Obama of deliberately distorting the Bible and taking a "fruitcake interpretation" of the U.S. Constitution...In the comments to be aired later Tuesday, Dobson said Obama should not be referencing antiquated dietary codes and passages from the Old Testament that are no longer relevant to the teachings of the New Testament.
Presumably Dobson means the part where the New Testament says:
Slaves, obey your masters here on earth. Respect them and honor them with a heart that is true. Obey them just as you would obey Christ. Don't obey them only to please them when they are watching. Do it because you are slaves of Christ. Be sure your heart does what God wants.

Serve your masters with all your heart. Work as if you were not serving people but the Lord. You know that the Lord will give you a reward. He will give to each of you in keeping with the good you do. It doesn't matter whether you are slaves or free. (Ephesians 6)

It almost reads like it was written like a free man, doesn't it? Specifically the same free man who also wrote "Wives, obey your husbands" in Dobson's beloved New Testament. (Ephesians 5)

hail mary, full of herself

My sister is the only one of us five kids to have remained Catholic. And lord, is she ever Catholic. I can't believe the crap she knows about various Vatican dogma and rulings. It is no surprise, then, that she's asked me to testify as she petitions to have her defunct marriage annulled. My free time not being the Catholic Church's primary concern, they sent me a list of 18 essay questions, each with several sub-questions. About a guy I met once, on his wedding day. For a church that I think dispenses even more bullshit than average.


Question #6 makes up for it, though. This, I can enjoy writing.

Please describe [your sister's] family background. Were there any special circumstances or problems (like divorce, tensions in the home, difficulty relating to parents, absence of parents, death, illness, alcohol or drug abuse, emotional difficulties, financial hardship, etc.)?
Can I respond "Yes?"

Never one to pass up a television camera, tireless media whore Fred Phelps is picketing the funerals of the Virginia Tech victims. Says his daughter:

"The evidence is they were not Christian. God does not do that to his servants."

atheistic help, 5¢

Near my campus office yesterday, a couple of atheists had set up a card table with the sign "Learn about atheism. All questions and comments welcome."

Taking them at their word, I asked "Why do you, of all people, care what I believe?"

They babbled about wanting people to divorce first-century superstitions and think rationally, like them.

"But that doesn't answer my question. What's the difference between a Muslim wanting me to embrace his beliefs, a Christian wanting me to embrace hers, and you very much wanting me to embrace yours? Isn't your card-table setup here just a different flavor of needy?"

Turns out all questions weren't welcome.

I'd set up a Church of Validation Theory card table, but the irony is just too rich.

mailbag: jesus checks in

"No one wants to read all your tiresome Jesus-bashing," says a dully representative piece of reader mail from fundy types. He then proceeds to tell me what everyone does want to read.

Is there a more fascinating psychological phenomenon than the capacity of the religious weird to take enormous (and self-serving) leaps of causality? It's their superpower. If you don't want their religion taught in your kid's science class, you're intolerant. If you're uneasy about the war, you hate freedom or the troops. If you have nothing in particular against gay marriage, you want to destroy the family. And if you mock the attention-whoring excesses of fringe religious types, you're bashing Jesus.

Stop confusing yourselves with Jesus, please. He'll doubtless thank you for it. If you read carefully, or if you have a friend with two ganglia rubbing together who can read carefully to you, you'll see that I've never, in fact, bashed Jesus. Just you. And despite how loudly and misspelled you assert the contrary, there's a gaping chasm of difference between these two parties.

For that matter, you're hardly "everyone," either. On Jesus' and everyone's behalf, I ask you to kindly stop the impersonations. Don't make us get a restraining order.

• • •

Syrupy Stank troll Karen send in this comedic take on the Bible and religion. It's an odd combination of mocking and affectionate, and God looks and sounds disturbingly like George Lucas. The part where "Dad" hands Jesus a drawing of a crucifixion, and Jesus' stunned expression, was priceless.

good wiki, bad wiki

Wikipedia allows everyone to contribute to its encyclopedia's articles, and that allows us to arrive at Truth—or if not Truth, some sort of triangulated approximation of it. Anyone in the world may edit its entries.

Clearly, Wikipedia has a liberal bias.

Fortunately, some enterprising right-doers have created a new wiki repository for Truth. You can tell it's unbiased because they call it "Conservapedia." And you can tell it's conservative because they don't mention supply-side economist Jude Wanniski or Congressmen J.C. Watts or Orrin Hatch.

As the site points out, Wikipedia is guilty of liberal bias on 29 documented occasions. For example:

  • The entry for the Renaissance in Wikipedia refuses to give enough credit to Christianity.
  • Wikipedia often uses foreign spelling of words
  • Wikipedia removed and permanently blocked a page identifying its many biases
  • Wikipedia's errors spill undetected into newspapers
And the crux of the matter:
  • For example, even though most Americans reject the theory of evolution, Wikipedia editors commenting on the topic are nearly 100% pro-evolution. Edits to include facts against the theory of evolution are almost immediately censored.
Conservapedia's claim of "facts against" evolution includes a citation, and if you follow it, the citation leads straight to damning evidence: Conservapedia's own evolution article.

It's about time.

In fact, if you search for "evolution" on Conservapedia, you're immediately redirected to the "Theory of Evolution" article. A search for "intelligent design," on the other hand, leads straight to the article "Intelligent Design."

The "affirmative action" article is an unbiased masterpiece, dispensing with meely-mouthed critical thought and getting straight to what needs to be said. Its first sentence:

Affirmative action is an area in which government policy is contradictory.

Smiting bias at every turn, Conservapedia tells us that Islam has origins in Paganism, that "significant studies" show that homosexuals aren't born that way, and that the Spanish Inquisition was a method of torture. And finally, someone got the Crusades right. The fourth Crusade was tragic because it "never reached the Holy Land and ended with the crusaders' sacking Constantinople—a Christian city."

"It seems that the Christian armies lost sight of our goals to bring and spread love and Christianity along the way, " the unbiased author continues. "The Crusades went against our Christian teachings."

who would jesus shitcan?

Reluctant Stank troll Katrina sends in this gem.

You have to love when a pastor "guarantees" who Jesus would want fired. Because that Jesus guy, he hated on gender-switching public officials from way back.

so very, very gay

From distinguished Stank troll Jean comes this ludicrously timely story about a young girl punished by her school for using "gay" the way I described.

What's striking to me about this tale isn't that "that's so gay" is considered offensive—isn't that fairly obvious, in the end?—it's the context here. The girl is Mormon. (Yes, them again. It's Theme Week.) And "that's so gay" was her response to her classmates' ridicule of her religion. I'm not defending the girl's choice of weapons, but I think you have got to call this self-defense. Where's that part of this story? What punishment was handed down to her tormentors? What's the difference between slandering someone's sexual orientation and slandering their religion, except for the fashion of the day?

for every action

Whenever people first tell me they like this site, I caution them: read it long enough, and I will eventually get around to offending you. For it is on this page that I record my irritation with humanity, and "humanity" is a rather inclusive group. If I have sacred cows, I don't know what they would be. Skewering whites, blacks, Latinos, Asians, Native Americans? Check, check, check, check, check. Christians, Mormons, and Muslims? Oh my. Young, old, rich, poor, left, right, me, you—I've belittled 'em all.

When I'm posting, I sometimes wonder "Have I gone too far this time?" Almost invariably, though, reader reaction is supportive. I attribute this to the reactive nature of my posts. This is one of the things I learned from Bugs Bunny, in fact: the ethic of attack. If you only attack when provoked, no one can really accuse you of unfairness. You don't see me mock Jews, for instance. That isn't for a lack of material supplied by my Jewish brother-in-law. He's eminently mockable. Just ask him. But collectively, Jews have left me alone. They do not offend me. They do not demand my endorsement, they do not threaten to kill me, they do not attempt to ram their views into the curriculum of the schools for which I pay, and they have not damaged people I love. Thus far, Jews get a pass. I have no particular love for them; they've simply given me nothing to which I might react. They're Canada.

For the most part, I never hear from parties who might be offended. Or if I hear from 'em, they usually aren't critical. When I mock rich old white farts (ROWFs) and their overdeveloped sense of entitlement, I get supportive mail from that very demographic. When I mock young blacks for asserting that their blackness makes them better qualified than me to declare what white people are thinking, I get words of support from fed-up blacks. Ditto with parents, perhaps my most surprisingly supportive demographic. (How many shots do I have to take, people?) In the end, only one demographic consistently feels compelled to respond with hostility. Every time I post about religion, I know exactly what's coming.

And these people, dear reader, are why I disallow comments on this site. You don't want to read what I read.

You'd think God's chosen people, the heaven-bound elite (whatever religion they practice) would have loftier things to do than portray themselves as my victims. I'm a hideous, tiresome Mormon-basher, for instance. Just look at last week's posts. I'm just another in a long line of persecutors in their history of innocent and quiet self-reflection. I'm Pilate to their Jesus, they tell me as they busily nail their own limbs to a cross.

Better yet are the mails that declare that I'm a stupid, miserable person and it doesn't matter at all what I think. My opinion is so inconsequential, in fact, that they took the time to write. The logic is plainly evident.

Just once, I'd like to see a religion post elicit rebuttals that don't put words in my mouth or cherry-pick phrases out of context in order to imply a different context. Just once, I'd like to get feedback that argues with the actual content of the post, as opposed to claiming victimhood or vilifying me.

Are you people intellectually capable of this? And why does that feel like such a pointless question?

mormons and me, part ii

Continued from yesterday

It was a special kind of heartbreak, something I'd not felt before. Or since. Someone had told me about a heinous stereotype with which I was utterly unfamiliar and had arrogantly predicted my friend's descent into it. I had defended my friend. "No, not Leanne! You don't know her at all!" And then I watched my friend descend ever lower, exactly as predicted. Not a little. Not partially. Exactly.

I was ashamed for her.

But the decision was made, and after the obvious conversation about the rashness of the engagement—"Actually, John, for people in my church this isn't fast at all!"—I was supportive. I decided to work on my relationship with Lump.

It did not go well.

Lump was dim, lazy. It was impossible to imagine him getting his degree, let alone getting a job. He slurred his words lazily and never let his utter lack of merit stop him from holding forth about himself, especially to women. Three of my girlfriends have met him: Fucking Amy, the Approval Whore, and Allie. A tomboy, a show pony, and a hippie. Three very different women with really only one thing in common: they despised Lump. Of him, Fucking Amy once sighed in exasperation, "It's kind of hard to respect a guy who has to close his eyes to finish every sentence."

Allie and the AW would later applaud that description.

He was thoughtless toward Leanne and clearly expected her to defer to him on every subject, whether it was where to eat or where to live. Men are on our best behavior when we're first dating, and his best was anyone else's worst.

A trivial example: one time the three of us were eating at a buffet. Lump and I sat down first. I took one of the two booth seats, and he took the other, leaving Leanne a chair. "Don't make me embarrass you by offering your fiance my seat," I growled, and he grudgingly moved. She returned and praised him for leaving her the booth seat, praise he gobbled. When he next left, Leanne whirled at me. "You told him to do leave me the booth, didn't you?"

I said nothing, instead imagining the paucity of consideration that must come her way in order for her to have arrived at this conclusion.

"You know," I said later as she washed his clothes in the dorm washing machine. "What you get when you're dating, you're gonna get in spades once you're married. This is him at his very best."

"When it's the right one, you know it," she replied, looking forward into space, descending lower.

They got married, and as Hilary foretold, I was not allowed to attend. Years passed. Lump avoided any kind of work for seven years, and for a time they subsisted on Costco tortillas. Toiling as a substitute teacher, Leanne was sick constantly. When I would visit, I would bring gifts of groceries. And when I would visit, Lump would clumsily hint that he too would like presents.

"Did you wee this cool [insert artist's name] book? I love it. Love it. But it's $200," he would lament forlornly.

"That's a damned shame."

"I really need it, but I can't afford it," he'd try, frustrated with my obtuseness.

"It's crazy what books cost, isn't it?"

My favorite hint of all time: "Leanne sure needs a faster modem for our computer."

Poverty be damned, they started procreating. To this day, I honestly have no idea how many kids they have. Every time I talk to her, she has the same "great news." Mind you, they still haven't paid the hospital bills for kid #1. Isn't that sort of like, um, stealing? When I point out this apparent ethical lapse, Leanne is oddly untroubled. "I just trust that God will somehow provide," she says, knowing, but not feeling, that I think she's an idiot.

Therein you have my dominant impression of Mormons. They're famously and conspicuously kind and happy, even during obviously miserable situations. But there's more. There's a highly compartmentalized intellectual stunting. I've met many really bright Mormons who converse expertly on science or politics or philosophy. And then you'll enter what I've come to know as a "Mormon blind spot," where church culture and dogma trump all else, and suddenly you're dealing with a reflexively, astoundingly unthinking person. Leanne, for example, would never imagine stiffing a hospital for the cost of repairing a broken leg. But baby bills? That's different. Creating more Mormons is a Mormon girl's highest possible calling, and the stealing is not only justified, it's somehow not even stealing.

As time has gone on, the blind spots have grown. Leanne's entire life is her litter of kids and the church. They're predictably atrocious parents. As she's descended further into stereotype, as my friend has been willingly usurped by this misogynistic culture, our friendship has strained and broken. We still give it lip service, but she's effectively out of my life. The wonderful woman who was my friend is gone now, dead by her own hand.

• • •

When she was nine months pregnant with her second child, I spent a weekend fending off Lump's hints for money and sadly regarding my friend's life of Lump servitude. He was without shame, putting his wife before his own selfishness not once. I attempted to embarrass him by insisting that I, not his ridiculously pregnant wife, do the cooking, dishes and housework, but my shot impacted harmlessly on Lump's surface. Depressed by this, I said nothing as I did the dishes.

Before I left, Leanne and I got our first opportunity in six years to be alone together. We went to lunch, and for a fleeting, miraculous moment, my friend came back to me. She was herself. There was no posed happiness, no rationalizations, no Lump. It was grand. I told her I missed her, and she cried. Oh my god. That's an honest emotion for the first time in years, I thought. Was there a flicker of self-awareness after all?

Then Leanne surprised me. Quietly, ashamed, avoiding eye contact, she spoke. "John, do you remember what you tried to tell me back in the dorms, when I was doing laundry?"

Of course I remembered. I'd thought of little else all weekend.

"Well," she said softly, almost inaudibly, "I get it now."

Oh god.

And with those four heartbreaking words, I went from wishing my friend would stop rationalizing happiness to wishing that she were even better at it. I don't need to be right. I don't want it. Not here. Not this time.

mormons and me, part i

Before I left Ohio, what I knew about Mormons could be summed up in four words: "the Osmonds" and "Danny Ainge." Like with out-of-closet gays, I couldn't name a single Mormon I knew.

When Maddie and I simultaneously went to grad school, she in Indiana and me in Washington, I paid for her expenses by keeping mine very low. I took out a student loan, sent her the money, and myself lived in a dorm. My living in that dorm for a year led to my meeting Elizabeth, which is all well and good, but it also led to my meeting Fucking Amy and Mormonism.

The latter came in the most insidious form of all: an utterly charming, bright young redhead named Leanne. Hoping to just serve my time and move to proper accommodations, I hadn't wanted much to do with my fellow residents, but Leanne wore me down. She wouldn't take no for an answer, pounding on my locked door until I relented. There was no resisting her. We became friends.

Many a night we'd sit in my dorm, she sharing the excitement of her newfound love with the guy down the hall, me sharing the pain of what turned out to be the end times with Maddie. Leanne was becoming an English teacher, and I was teaching for the first time. We talked about teaching, life, love, plans, dreams. I got sucked into this fantastically warm, kind woman's orbit.

Religion didn't come up that much, but I knew hers was important to her. It was that Osmond thing I knew nothing about. Rather than admit ignorance, I went to the library. There was a surprisingly deep collection of books about Mormonism, both admiring and damning. I skipped past those and cracked open a more neutral, academic source, the Harvard Theological Review. An hour later, I shut the book and stared out the window.

This was the most moronic religion I'd ever heard of.

Some American teenage brat claims that he's talked to an angel and now leads the one true religion, and these morons actually, like, believe him? I thought. What the fucking fuck? For God's sake, the angel was even named "Moroni." And then there were these magical gold plates no one ever saw, instructions from God to revise the bible and, presumably, to marry as many teenage girls as possible before it became politically inexpedient.

It turns out I hadn't known any Mormons previously because Midwesterners ran 'em out of the Midwest in the 1800s. I too wasn't in danger of becoming a Mormon anytime soon, but I also didn't hold it against Leanne. I believed in her, if not her especially silly religion.

Meanwhile, I became friends with another young woman, Hilary. She hailed from Salt Lake City and had been raised Mormon, but she had walked away as a teenager and never looked back—except when the church came knocking on her door, which was apparently very, very often. Hil was mildly amused that I was becoming close to a Mormon and even more amused by my ignorance. She took it upon herself to get me up to speed. I learned about the Holy Mormon Underwear. I learned that wouldn't be allowed into the Temple when my friend got married. I learned about the vow of masturbation. I learned about in absentia baptisms of the dead. I learned about the baby heaven full of souls waiting to be birthed by good Mormon girls.

This religion just kept getting stupider and stupider.

Hil got personal. "Let me guess. She's the most upbeat, kind, cloying person you know."


"Let me tell you what's going to happen with your friend," she declared with jarring confidence. "She's going to marry the first Mormon guy she meets here, and she's going to marry him fast. He'll be just back from his mission and horny as hell. They'll start crapping out kids by the bushel, and she'll spend the rest of her life in total subjugation, dropping litters and doing chores for the church. Guaranteed."

"Not Leanne," I said. "You don't know her like I do. She loves teaching. Her whole world is teaching English to ESL kids. Yeah, she's dating the only other Mormon in our dorm, and yeah, he's just back from his mission, but she's even told me she won't get married for six years. Until her career is established."

"Mmm hmm," Hil replied.

"Besides, the guy is a thoughtless lump. She'd never marry him."

"Of course not."

After Christmas break, Leanne came back with an engagement ring on her finger. Lump had proposed exactly three months after they had met. Leanne had accepted. They were getting married in the summer and would celebrate their three-month wedding anniversary a year to the day after they met.

"What about waiting until you were 27?" I asked.

"Oh, forget that!" she squealed, delighted.


Tomorrow: I become a follower of the latter-day Prophet Hilary.

A half-scripture quoted on the sign outside the Kingston Christian Church:

"Do not fear those who kill the body."


elin woodsStank troll Elin, who could not possibly be as hot in real life as she is in my imagination (right), poses a challenge. She tells of an trend among young atheists. They record footage of themselves renouncing the Holy Spirit, encourage others to do the same, and post it on YouTube. How, Elin leadingly asks, does this gibe with my validation theory?

Answer: all too well.

I really don't see a difference between this monkey-see-monkey-do, "have you posted your renunciation yet?" movement and a monkey-see-monkey-do, "have you been baptized yet?" one. Although self-described opposites, all of these people are followers. They are not content to walk quietly with their beliefs; they must have their beliefs heard and echoed by others. And what's the difference between watching atheist YouTube clips and watching TV religious services? Between atheist meetings and Christian churches? To me, none. It's all so much mutual masturbation. Want to distinguish yourself intellectually? Seek out someone who doesn't already agree with you.

These folks doubtless see themselves as opposites, even mortal enemies, but to me they're all just different flavors of needy.

happy new year!

In honor of the occasion, I updated the stupid church signs page.

I'm astonished I haven't seen more pieces like this.

start the clock

Senator Tim Johnson suffered a brain hemorrhage this morning, and as he fights for his life, control of the Senate might be in the balance. If he were replaced with a Republican, the Senate would be split, and Cheney would cast the tie-breaking vote.

What's the over/under on when some fucktard will claim that God smited Johnson because He wants the Republicans in charge? I say within six hours.

C'mon, someone ask Pat Robertson for a statement.


Sign at the Kingston Christian Church this morning:


jesus casts a stone

I saw this in someone's sig this morning:

"If it were beneficial, their father would produce children already circumcised" — Jesus, Gospel of Thomas

Jesus had a bunch of free time, apparently.

But really, should a god who gave us wisdom teeth and gallbladders and belly buttons and men's nipples really be calling anything useless?

cumming first since 1832

It's not quite a stupid church sign, but check out this Georgia church's url:

kettles and pots

Esteemed Stank troll Dug points to this Slate article, which neatly crystallizes the papal hypocrisy (papocricy?) I was talking about earlier.

fundamentalist week in review

So to summarize Papalgate, here is the 14th Century writing that the Pope quoted:

"Show me just what Muhammad brought that was new, and then you shall find things only evil and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached."
al Qaeda was quick with a rebuttal:
"You infidels and despots, we will continue our jihad and never stop until God avails us to chop your necks and raise the fluttering banner of monotheism, when God's rule is established governing all people and nations."

• • •

In all the apology hullabaloo, I haven't heard one person point out that it was a Pope who sanctioned the Crusades.

Pot, meet kettle.

Kettle, pot.

moron taxonomy
stupid church signs
super bowl xl officiating
percy chronicles

Monthly Archives