I don't usually go on tears against religion, ranting mournfully about the atrocities committed in the name of a god...
Alright, that's a lie but bear with me because I've come to a rather grim realization. The realization being that religion has not left my life untouched in a negative way.
For a while, I'd say that religion was something I didn't agree with. My commentary was not unlike that of an eyewitness to violent crime: Utterly shocked and appalled, but not personally touched by said violence. I'd mention that I didn't have a problem with those who did believe. True, I wouldn't break an appointment to hang out with a religious zealot, but I wouldn't curse their very name either.
Then, there was my uncle...
This man-in-name-only, who will remain nameless, was quite the stereotypical Christian devotee. My uncle was a reformed drug addict and criminal who had found Jesus (the one from the Bible) while serving time and living at a bible college. If it's one thing I've said routinely about religion, it's that it gives one a plethora of excuses that most others with any inclination to believe in a higher power are, like a porn star ready for the money shot, far too willing to receive. Being young and impressionably, in addition to the fact that I had an opinion of my long lost uncle formed through youthful idealism, he was far too apt to force his beliefs my way. Like any common bible-thumping charlatan, he'd routinely cherry-pick quotes from the bible to support claims, end disputes, make excuses and make vain attempts to psychologically intimidate the rest of the family.
But I'm not writing this about my uncle, about how big of a let down seeing what he had become after so many years away from him. No, this is about how my fear of reprisal from "on high."
You know the really ugly broads? The ones so beat up and hideous in face and character that they couldn't get dick if their first names were "Richard?" Yeah, those are usually bible-thumpers, and I seem to be a magnet for them, as is much of my family.
That wasn't relevant to my topic, but I figured I'd throw that in there to cure the boredom. But wasting my life in fear of some dead-beat sky-daddy left me unwilling to pursue other aspects of my life. To take chances and make mistakes, to enjoy life. Hell, I even think it may have been a nickel in the quarter called my "inability to get laid in high school." I'd also like to apologize to you, the readers for wasting what would be a funny article for Wednesday. But in any case, thank you for reading.
Oh, don't forget to "question everything."
No comments:
Post a Comment