Spiritual Narcoleptics

Despite their prattling about religion, despite copious condemnations and thundering goddamnations of unbelievers, abortion doctors, homosexuals, uppity women and secular humanism, despite the ever swelling holy chatter, despite endless invocations of Lord Jesus the Warrior Christ out to kick some Muslim ass, despite Bible banging so persistent it sounds liked the percussion section of a traveling reggae band, despite the clatter of collection plates heavy with faith based charities tax dollars, despite talking in tongues, fondling rattlesnakes and alterboys, despite snuff films about Geee-Zuss, and even with the recently declared national day of prayer and mourning for the victims of policy in New Orleans, there is no detectable spirituality within the porcine party.

I can't take any repiglican seriously as a Christian. Not that I take religion seriously at all, but some people adapt it for better things than these narcissistic, spiritual narcoleptics, these folks who practice hate, not love, intolerance, not compassion, these stalwart sinners who live compelled by rage, fear, and some kind of need to control everyone but themselves. They act as though god, and I use the G word in a metaphoric sense, is knowable.

Live with a mystery, you rigid, tortured bastards, you petty morons with shriveled interiors.