THIS ANGRY COMMENT MUST BE POSTED:

I've gotta say, there isn't a belief system extant that I haven't looked into, and at least partly found myself able to subscribe to -- and I'm not in the business of converting anyone to anything -- if you're satisfied with what you've found in the "Conversations with God" series of books (pretty lucrative for their author, I'm sure) that's fine with me. Only all religion isn't all bad -- if all you know is the more crackpot versions of protestant Christianity, though, I'm not surprised that's the impression you get. Condemn all religion when you've studied all religion.

AND SO MUST MY REPLY:

Oh, yeah, as for the "lucrative" comment. I wonder how lucrative teaching fear to people is to Falwell, Hinn, Swaggart, and Robertson, among others...hmmm...pretty darn lucrative, I'd say! Neale Donald Walsh makes a nice living teaching love and tolerance, common sense and science. We're buying his books because we want to. We're not digging deep into our pockets out of fear of God's wrath, in order for holy rollers to buy airplanes and limos.

Well, it's been a while since I posted on my site, but what I heard today must be shared. Just when I think I've heard it all from the religious fanatics, I'm served up yet another blow in the form of utter misrepresentation of the Christian faith by the good reverend, Jimmy Guy. My jaw dropped upon hearing his latest idiotic ideology and I'm still in total shock that anyone can be so ignorant and hateful. What amazes me even more is that there are people out there so gullable that this person can control THEM completely. It's scary, people! Downright frightening!

The good reverend is the brother-in-law of my gay friend back in Mississippi. You might remember him from previous posts. He hates, literally depises, my friend, who's name I changed to "Jesus" in those posts. Hates him. Brother Guy, as his congregation so respectfully addresses him, is an 8th grade drop-out who thinks he is God. Jesus' mother and two sisters are all wrapped up in his Pentecostal bullshit. No television, long hair, no make-up, long dresses, no pants even when playing sports, speaking in tongues...you know the bullshit. I'm sure you're familiar with this particular cult. And it is definately, no doubt about it, just that. A CULT. People in his congregation have to go to him for permission to make any decisions regarding their own body, finances, etc. Any decision that they make has to be approved directly by the good rev. Now if that isn't a cult, I don't know what is. This man is a raging lunatic, to say the least.

His wife, Jesus' older sister, is the treasurer of their church. Her own mother, who lives below the poverty level, is expected to give a 10% tithe to the Pentecostal church in order to stay out of hell. This poor woman cleans houses for a living and gives 10% consistently to Brother Guy's cause. Sometimes she only gets to clean one house in an entire week, which gives her a whopping fifty bucks. Her daughter knows this, yet accepts her 10% readily. Her daughter...Mrs. Guy. She accepts that five dollar contribution, without a second thought. After all, the Reverend and Mrs. Guy have two, yes, TWO Lexus' and a big house to pay for! Unbelievable! Un fucking believable!

One night while the reverend was leading the shouting and speaking in tongues, he called Jesus' mother to the front of the church and told her before the entire congregation that she was going to burn in hell fire if she didn't rid herself of the devil in her life, the devil being her own flesh and blood, her gay son. Her ONLY son. Her own child, who not only adores his mother, but is the only one of her children who helps her to pay her bills. Imagine what kind of stress that puts on her as a guilt-ridden cult member and loving mother. Just imagine someone forcing you to choose between your own child and eternal damnation! I'm telling you, people, this guy is sinister. Evil to the core. Talk about a false prophet! Wow!

Let's cut to his latest crazy act of his absolute control over weak minds. His sister-in-law, who also cleans homes for a living, was all excited about selling an herbal weight loss product. She needs to lose weight herself and certainly needs the money, which would free her up to stay home with her young children. She had told lots of other overweight ladies in the church about her prospective venture and they were chomping at the bit to get their hands on the product to help them lose weight. Before she could embark on this new business venture, however, she had to consult her brother-in-law and pastor. Upon hearing about it, he immediately told her that she could not do that. He told her that all the other women in the church would want to be involved. Her answer to him was that she was counting on the other women doing just that! He told her that was of the devil and forbade her to have any part in it. She was devastated. Totally devastated. So much for the dream of moving out of a mobile home and no longer having to work as a maid. So much for any kind of dream beyond the confines of the CULT.

Upon hearing this total bullshit, I almost fell out of my chair! It reminded me once again of just how horrible religion is. Mind control. Fear. Hate. Ignorance. Religion is the most dangerous thing in this world. Religion sucks, and God has no place in it.

I can't stand it when religious fanatics try to cram God down my throat. Their God...the way he's perceived by them...not me. Ya know? Here's the latest. My cat recently was murdered by my redneck neighbor. This over-the-top, overbearing, religious fanatic that I met for the first time the other night joined myself and a couple of friends for dinner. Not only had I already been told that she was a religious nut, I'd had a couple of very brief telephone conversations with her that indicated such. This woman had been told about my cat's untimely demise. As soon as she takes her seat at the restaurant, she offers her sympathy, which was enough. She had to go on, however, to tell me that God would bless me with another pet. I told her that I have other pets. Then she said that he'll send me another kitty. I then couldn't help but to almost roll my eyes, as I squirmed in my chair and replied, "I already have two other cats." She finally noticed my frustration at her "comforting" words and shut the fuck up. All I could think about on my way home was her and her big mouth. I often think of what I should have said after it's too late. What I wished I'd said was, "Well, I'll tell you what...if it's all the same to God, I'll just take the old one back." I think she still got the message, though. The next time she tries her "in your face" approach to spreading the gospel as she perceives it, I'm just going to tell her that I don't share her beliefs, and that I'd prefer she tell them to someone who might be a little more receptive to her religious ideology.

When my Barbra was killed last week, I even reverted back to my old concepts of an intervening, wrathful God. I was so mad at God for my loss. My grief turned to rage against God for sending me this tribulation. The God of Job sucked in my book. I told myself that if he weren't dead, I'd hate his guts. I decided that I was an atheist. The next day, however, I reminded myself that my God is not the God that the Southern Baptists taught me he was. My God is love, pure and simple. Unconditional, unadulterated, natural love. A god that sees, knows, understands, and allows the world to exercise free will. What happens...happens...period. That's the God of my understanding. That understanding was made clear when it was beautifully defined by Neale Donald Walsh in his books, which are my "Bibles". I guess it had been too long since I'd picked up book three of the "Conversations with God" trilogy. I would offer God an apology for my behaving like such an asshole the other day, but he doesn't expect an apology. He's God. Love doesn't require apologies. Even the Bible of the Baptists says that. They just manage to skip over that part when they're preaching the judgment and wrath. God is Love. Their book says so, and so does mine. Love is not wrathful. Love has no conditions. Love just loves.

As for the religious fanatic that I met the other night: My message to her is that God doesn't take away kitties or give them back. He just is what he is and he does what he does. He watches. He loves. He IS. Period.

I exercise because modern medicine and common sense tell me that I should do so in order to maintain a healthy quality of life…possibly live longer, as well. I do. I make it a point to exercise regularly. I make a special effort to control my weight and cholesterol by eating healthy foods. I endure the pain and humiliation of regular mammograms and colonoscopies. I do a lot, dammit! It’s work, but, by golly, I’m doin’ it!

Now, wouldn’t you know? Just as I’m going on my eighth month of celibacy, I see a doctor on the news saying that we need to have sex. Yes, sex has joined the list of “must do’s” in order to live healthy and happy. Pisses me off. The doc was saying that aging people with active sex lives have less physical pain, less heart disease, less Alzheimer’s, and they tend to live longer, healthier lives in general. This news sucks to me because I don’t want to HAVE to do that to live healthy and to a ripe old age. No thank you! Casual sex is out of the question and relationships are too damn much work!

I have become accustomed to certain freedoms that I never had when I was in a relationship. I feel that to lose those freedoms now would make my life unhappy and, therefore, shorter. I go to bed when I want and get up when I want. I leave the TV on all night, get up and eat, channel surf, make as much noise as I like. No tippy-toing or gently closing doors. I love it. It’s my thing. My privilege. I eat grits for dinner if I want to. I wash dishes when I’m good and ready. I’ve only shaved my legs about five times since the break-up and it has been wonderful! No one can make me go anywhere that I don’t want to go. I don’t always have to include meat on the menu. I don’t have to explain my every move to my “other” half. I don’t have to take phone calls. I do everything on my own time as I see fit. I’m finally at the point in my life that I’m comfortable being alone, where I am free to be just the person that I am. I like myself and I like hanging out with just me.

Now, according to the sex doc, I’m not only going to die before my time if I don’t have a sex partner, I’m going live a terrible quality of life until then. All I have to say about that is this:

Being in a relationship is a lot of fucking work! The whole thing is a headache for me. It’s not for me. I’m not interested. You might say to me, “C’mon, you probably just haven’t met the right person yet. Don’t give up.” I’ll respond by saying the problem is that you never know if it is the right person when you first meet them. It takes getting into the relationship to learn that the person you chose is not for you. I’m not willing to risk another “experiment”. Makes me miserable. If I’m miserable, I’m depressed. If I’m depressed, I’m unhappy. If I’m unhappy and depressed and miserable, I’m unhealthy. I’ll just take my chances with celibacy. I think I’ll live longer.

My hometown has one red light
It’s a tiny town indeed
If you blink your eyes as you drive through
You might not get to see
The drugstore on the corner
That’s thrived since I was little
The bench outside the market
Where ol’ Percy sits and whittles
The farm supply has everything
From overalls to seeds
We don’t need to look no further
We’ve all a small town needs.

There’s Randy’s Auto Shop
Across the street from there
Any problems with your truck or car
Ol’ Randy can repair
The Laundromat stays busy
There’s a cleaners right next door
It’s been there forty years or so
Give or take a year or more
There’s a hardware store on Main Street
And a good ol’ Mickey D’s
We don’t have a Supercenter
But we’ve all a small town needs

There’s Mary Lou’s Biscuit Bar
Where the locals often gather
You can play a game of cards there
Or checkers if you’d rather
Everyone knows everyone
That’s the way it’s always been
It’s quite a town for mom and dad
To raise their children in
The diner known as Peggy’s Grill
Is a good ol’ meat and three
It ain’t no fancy place to eat
But it’s all a small town needs

The steeple on the Baptist church
Reaches for the Heavens
And Wayren’s Quickie Mart
Stays open ‘til eleven
There’s Betty’s hair salon
Where the gossip’s always juicy
You can get a suntan there
Or a manicure by Lucy
It might not be a fancy place
But it’s just fine to me
We’re neighbors, friends and family
And that’s all a small town needs.

©keh2004