Jun 27
I am seething with nonspecific rage at the moment. I came out of the gym tonight to find a two foot long scratch across my driver’s side rear door. It is the sort of mark that I would believe impossible to be made by a car door, and using my newly formed investigative powers (complements of Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney) I am left with no other choice than to think it deliberate. My jaw clenches and my mighty fist trembles with an anger directed at the world at large. I despise the general public; the thought of being around a gathering of “people” utterly repulsive. By all accounts there is a lack of goodness and empathy in your random cross-section of American population. And while keying a car is hardly a holocaust, it is a manifestation of unchecked evil just the same. So it then staggers my imagination to think that at the exact same time this army of the inconsiderate mobilizes across the nation’s parking lots, substantially more people in America believe in angels than evolution. 95% of Americans believe in God, more than two thirds belong to a church, 37 percent call themselves committed Christians.* And at the same time, our crime rate continues to soar. I find that wildly inconsistent.
Perhaps it is unfair to call religion, or rather Christianity in particular, into a rant about scratched paint, but how is it possible that I can be so hell damningly wrong to believe that man came from monkeys when I am then forced to drive in a car bearing the key-fashioned handiwork of someone who, with a near-certain probability, deeply believes in the God-issued mandates to be kind, forgiving, and compassionate?
In closing, let’s all take a few Bong Hits 4 Jesus.
* (Barack Obama, The Audacity of Hope p. 198)