Ever get annoyed? Ever feel like someone needs to be told where the dog died? Or handed a crowbar and a tub of Elbow Grease to help them pry their head out of their arse? Congratulations--you've come to the right place.

And when I'm not commenting on the latest thing to piss me off, I'm trying to figure out my own twisted life. Because, hey, I'm like that.

On a gentler note: for anyone dealing with depression, anxiety, and other assorted bullshit: You are NOT alone.

And if you're looking for a laugh, search on the key word "fuckery." It's just my little thing (as the bishop said to the actress).

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Imagine... a few thoughts at the end of a productive day

Well, all this blogging has paid off. The rewrite of my novel started finally--managed to rewrite the first two chapters of One Flew Out of the Broom Closet.


On the other hand... I'm a bit annoyed.

Surprise, surprise.

A friend posted a humorous piece on FB today. I shared it because I thought it was brilliant--lighthearted British humor, a poke at religion.


I don't like organized religion. As a matter of fact, I fucking hate it. Why? Because, honestly, I think it's stupid.


I quit the Catholic Church a quarter of a century ago after twelve years of enforced indoctrination (i.e. Catholic school). Twelve years of daily religion classes. I find it really amusing that I always did well in religion--don't think I ever got less than a B. I mean, it was simple enough--pay attention, answer the questions... think about things. The thing I remember the most clearly are two things: Jesus's One Commandment (the whole "do unto others thing") and the statement that a mature faith is a questioning faith.

Well, I asked enough questions that I realized to have faith, I couldn't do religion. Because it's bullshit. I had this realization while sitting in the church during my grandmother's funeral and it hitting me that I thought every bloody word coming out of the priest's mouth (and I hated that evil fucker with a passion, the vicious bastard) was a load. A complete, utter, stinking load and I didn't believe a word of it.

And never had.

THAT'S a hard one when your entire family life revolves around the fucking Church. I mean, not in a go-to-Church way, but in a more serious Catholic-is-how-we-roll way. Being Catholic was as important as being a pro-Kennedy Democrat in my house, more important than rooting for the Red Sox or being Irish, because my family knew what it was to be persecuted (or at least harrassed) for being Catholic.

And I didn't get it.

I never saw the sense in no meat on Fridays. What the fuck did God care? Seriously. If sinning meant deliberately causing harm to another, where was the sin in eating steak instead of fish on a Friday? (People think it's a fasting/sacrifice issue--it's not. It was instituted originally purely for economic reasons. That's one of the problems with being a historian--you learn things like facts.)

This is one of the many issues I had. And although I made myself wait until I was in a calmer frame of mind to make a final decision, I quit the fucking Church. I had to; I'd seen too much hypocrisy committed by the leaders, and too much hypocrisy amongst "believers." I hated the message being preached, the complete lack of connection to the world and the need of the people the Church was supposed to be serving.

And I just didn't see the point. I had NEVER seen the point in going to church. It was BORING. I'd heard all the readings in school, and in church, there was no discussion, no debate--no engagement. I didn't get it.

Everything that was joyful was somehow wrong, and I didn't understand that, either. What the Church taught contradicted what Jesus said, and it didn't make any fucking sense. A lot of other things ceased to make sense once I gained a non-Catholic education and started getting the view from the other sides. And there are so very many of them.

So I quit.

It's been a long, strange trip since then. I have no problem with God; I have a real problem with his various and sundry fan clubs. I have a major problems with the fanatics who like to interpret the Bible and add embellishments that have nothing to do with Jesus's philosophy. I've found my own way, my own spirituality that works for me and satisfies my needs. I have a "personal relationship" with God--it involves a lot of arguing and WTFs, man? And I feel bad for Jesus--he gave us a great philosophy, and we had to go and fuck it up by turning it into a religion.

I don't see the sense in condemning someone for loving someone of the same sex. I don't see the sense in calling anything but missionary-position coitus for procreational purposes sinful. I don't see the sense in killing someone because they won't believe the same thing you do. I don't see the sense in any of it.

John Lennon would have been 70 this past Saturday. I'm going to sign off tonight with the lyrics to "Imagine," a song that I have to turn off if it comes on the radio when I'm driving because I cannot hear it without weeping. It's a Utopian vision for the world, but by all that's good and holy, I hope someday you'll join us...

"Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one"

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