Missionary Zeal

Partner and I had the discussion a couple nights ago around the dinner table: how many kids that you went to high school with became missionaries? I think the question was sparked by something on the television in the other room. Anyway, for him, the answer was zero; for me, the answer was six, including missionary spouses. That really surprised him - Yankee Catholic urbanite that he is verses former Southern Baptist suburbanite that I am.

And I also had the realization that I saw those kids on one side and me on the other now, that we play for completely different teams. They go for the authoritarian superstition represented by the church whereas I support the free flow of knowledge, ideas, and information represented by the public library (governmental services). Totally different ways of championing mostly incompatible value systems.

I'm not shocked that I haven't heard from any of these people in fifteen years. And I guess that adds another layer of explanation to why I feel no compulsion to reach out to my former classmates.

I just never really looked at their life course compared to mine before. I wouldn't have expected the overwhelming sense of surprise. You know?

A Quick Letter

Dear nineteen-year-old church elder,

Your creepy unblinking-ness did not bother me. It takes all kinds. Your wing-man, yeah, you got me. He's creep-tastic, standing right there behind you, watching, vacantly smiling. Your matching clothes...I'm used to that.

Oh, but your haughty-ass smugness...mmmph, that's where we run into some trouble, son, sonny boy, little mister sunshine.

No, I have not in fact read the book of Moron. I only read quality science-fiction from modern-era authors. And that tone? Really? You-should-read-it, in that tone??

Child, I'm not old enough to be your mother unless she was a fourteen-year-old girl...

Oh. Snap.

You're a mormon. I bet she was actually.

But either way...respect, you little drone. Respect. I did you a solid not questioning your ID when I issued you a guest pass for the match-set of computers you and your wing-man used together, creepily side-by-side. I know...I know...that ID was probably expired.

So next time you ask, I'm remembering that head-toss that accompanied your unblinking, creep-o you-should-read-it, and I'm checking the expiration date...because, yeah, sorry, we need a valid ID here.

Hint: if you MUST proselytize, especially to people who are forced to serve you or starve, try not to be SUCH horrible twat about it, okay? It goes over better.

No love,

Atheists need a house

I was just thinking about this yesterday morning: how much I miss the sense of community I had as a teenager who attended church (a little too) regularly.

Well, maybe soon I can get that again: news story.

The problem would be driving all the way to Atlanta to attend. That would be nigh impossible for me right now. And my Catholic partner? Oh...forget about that!

Still, I really like the idea of my people getting together in more positive way and building the kind of community I grew up with, only without the racism, sexism, homophobia, and hatred of the poor and ill. It's a nice thought.

So the Pope...

I am not Catholic. This is primarily due to being born into families whose Protestant roots stretch back to prior to the Edict of Nantes and to the days of Henry VIII. We were early adopters all around, you see. Therefore, my opinions on matters relating to the Church should be taken with a grain of salt.

That said...yay, Pope Francis, for not being the same kind of curmudgeonly, Bronze-Age twit that his predecessors were. Doesn't the world have more to worry about than gay rights and abortion? Apparently, I'm not alone in thinking so.

Maybe now Catholicism will go back to feeding the hungry, tending the sick, and opposing the death penalty.

Or they'll covertly assassinate Il Papa. Nice popes have short lives. History bears this out.

BUT let's hope he's the exception!!!