God Bless America Contrary to the bleatings of card-carrying
members of American Atheists, religion provides a valuable service
to civilization.
Those of us blessed with inate common sense and logic are
protected from those who can remain civil only under the
threat of eternal damnation from a power-tripping boogeyman.
Religion controls the weak, stupid and criminal-minded
in ways that threat of jail or community service cannot.
If a vision of endless fire and brimstone or torture at
the clutches of horny dragon-beast with a 12-inch spiked
cock keeps even one person from putting a bullet in my
head, religion can't be all bad.
And that's what religion is: crowd control. Deep down,
we know there's no greater force controlling our destinies,
but that what-if is strong enough to compel a number of
people to behave (at least in public) in accordance with
the beliefs they think will get them past God's bouncer.
If it keeps you happy and off my property, I've no objections
to it. But bring it to my front door, and I'll invite
you in for some strychnine-laced tea. (Just ask the last
Oxford-clad nerd who accosted me and asked if I wanted
to hear more about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day
Saints.)
Keeping religion separate from the culture is paramount.
Islam is viewed as a threat because it's so pervasive.
You can't swing a biss by its tail in the Middle East
without hitting someone who can recite the entire Koran.
Ask an American Christian to name a verse in Leviticus
that deals with something other than God hating fags,
and you get a blank stare.
That's one of America's strong points. Enough religion
is used to control the masses without turning them into
fundamentalist zombies. It's that delicate balance that
makes America a decent place to live regardless of one's
religious beliefs.
We can overlook the occasional shallow embrace of godliness
because we know it'll abruptly end once the next season
of The Sopranos debuts, and those who believe outside
the mainstream don't face widespread persecution.
Bill O'Reilly might devote a segment of his show to mocking
those who profess a devout interest in witchcraft and
the power of nature, but your high priestess isn't going
to have a wall toppled on her because she enjoys dancing
naked around a bonfire. She could be featured on Wiccans
Gone Wild, however, but after the invasion of privacy
lawsuit, that's just more money to build a sweet community
at this year's Burning Man.
Americans practice the muzak version of religion. Innocuous,
barely noticeable and kept in the background, but when
someone ups the decibels, blood gushes from your ears
and all you want is for your mommy to take away the pain.
Because there are few things worse than the cacophony
of superficiality.
The recent decision about the questionable constitutionality
of a certain part of the Pledge of Allegiance created
all kinds of noise. And when a ruling such as this is
made, we're reminded that no matter how many old ladies
we help across the street or kittens we rescue from fires,
we're still viewed as less moral than the coke-snorting
baby beater who loves Jesus. And you know they got much
love for their Lord.
The court didn't rule that the theory behind the Pledge
of Allegiance is unconstitutional -- although it's hard
not to argue that it's outdated -- but that the inclusion
of the words "under God" violates the quaint
notion that religion and government shouldn't mix.
Take out those words, and the Pledge doesn't lose its
heart. It retains the same meaning -- pledging blind,
unquestioning loyalty to one's nation via the symbolism
of a flag -- and it manages to include all of the hedonistic
non-believers and polytheists running this country into
the ground.
Americans, for some reason, are hung up on symbolism.
Watching the various freedoms that the flag and Pledge
represent being eroded barely causes a ripple, but threaten
the symbolism of God or country, and armchair pundits
come crawling out of the trailer parks and subdivisions.
I tried explaining to my company's 24-year-old German
intern why Americans have such a hard-on for a strip of
red, white and blue cloth, but it was too foreign of a
concept for him to grasp it. True, that Jew-kiling blip
in history might hinder his understanding of patriotism
and nationalism, but outside of the World Cup and dictatorships
using national pride to control its citizens, few countries
get so frenzied when symbols are challenged.
Two minutes into a discussion with a co-worker, in which
I mentioned my exchange with the Kraut, she invoked the
talk radio law -- "All discussions cease to be relevant
when someone sputters, Fine, then go to (insert name of
country with universal health care or functioning public
transporation system)" -- because she couldn't think
of a rational argument for keeping those two holy words.
She didn't know why, but damned if it didn't anger her
that those words might be excised.
If those three syllables are cut from the Pledge, the
country won't turn into a cesspool of violent devil worshippers
feasting upon the delicious marrow of the faithful. It
likely will happen as the natural course of things, but
pledging one's allegiance to a secular nation based on
liberty and justice for all isn't going to speed up the
process.
I don't believe in a supreme being, but my lack of faith
isn't a driving force in my life. When I wake up in the
morning, my first thought isn't, Ah, what another lovely
godless day this will be.
Of course, it will be, and I'll have more fun than anyone
who strictly adheres to a religion, but I don't need to
remind myself of what a carefree life I lead. I'm not
that insecure.
As such, fighting the Pledge wouldn't be high on my list
of American idiosyncracies that need elimination, but
since it's been brought to the forefront, rock on, you
limp-wristed, bleeding heart, politically correct justices.
But you can't take Americanized religion seriously, particularly
in light of the often absurd hand-wringing sparked by
this ruling. Just look at Free Republic. Reading that
forum shouldn't spark more than a wicked eye-rolling,
but there are quite a few non-Christians who think it's
definitive proof that all religious people are nuts.
They're not nuts. They're just incapable of forming moral
and ethical codes that exist outside of the pre-fab beliefs
offered by religion, and they're not even capable of truly
following those beliefs handed to them. They're simply
hedging their bets against the possibility of an eternity
controlled by a supreme being or several supreme beings.
Shortly after the court's decision, a poll found that
60 percent of Americans think that government leaders
making public expressions of faith in God is good for
the nation.
Somewhere, perhaps in your neighborhood, there are people
-- actual human beings with semi-functioning brains --
who genuinely think that corrupt leaders paying lip service
to a belief in God boosts the nation's spirit and fortitude.
And the leaders are listening. The House of Representatives
recited the pledge, sang "God Bless America"
and voted overwhelmingly infavor of a nonbinding resolution
urging reversal of the court ruling. Watching our representatives
try to out-God each other -- "I start every morning
with a prayer" vs. "I start every morning with
a healthy dose of self-flagellation and stigmata"
-- proved more entertaining than the WWE.
And even faker.
So, at the end of the day, when I'm swigging Jack Daniels
as I bathe in the rejuvenating blood drained from innocent
newborns, I view religion in much the same way I view
my teenaged cousin's bizarre obsession with Michael Jackson:
smugly amusing if seen from afar, extremely frightening
if the vortex somehow sucks you in.
Do what you want, particularly if it allows me to feel
superior, but when you expect me to spend four hours at
your graduation party as you (badly) play every song off
Greatest Hits: History, Vols. I and II on your violin
-- well, you've crossed the line.
I have my limits.
© The Misanthropic Bitch, 2002
Providing jack-off material for white misogynists since 1997.
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