And when I’m watchin the news,
and my daughter walks in,
And choose to ask,
“Why were all those people on the floor
sleepin’, covered in red?”
I told her that they were lookin’ for God, but found religion instead.
De La Soul (feat. Cee-Lo)
AOI Bionix (2001)
Listen to the song here. It’s a good one.
The Muslim call to prayer wails over Gili Trawangan. It’s too loud for my brain. It’s not even a good tune. Collette is quick to remind me that it’s not supposed to sound good.
But why would you do that? It’s at four-thirty in the morning in some places. Who’s trying to prove what? Who wants this? Really? The fella sounds like he’s out of control in his robes, careering down a big hill on a skateboard. And it’s blasting at volume eleven from the mosque. Juts rest, man.
It’s highly possible that there is something or someone. A force. An entity. A god. If there is, I suggest he, she, it, or whatever, wouldn’t want us to have to endure the robed-skateboarder. It’s just not natural.
I have a friend who’s been searching for God. She found a church. The church leader bullies her. He makes her feel guilty when she can’t make it on Sunday. She doesn’t spend time with her best friend she’s not seen for years on a Saturday night because she fears the same chastisement she received for missing mass last time. God in action, ladies and gentlemen. Praise him.
Donald Trump’s recent whisp-haired, faux-caring, Hurricane Harvey-victim, paparazzi, National Day of Prayer declaration was all-out insane. He was surrounded by, ‘Faith-based people.’ If you haven’t watched it, watch it here. A man, ruthlessly and blatantly using people’s need of a god to selfishly manipulate. How utterly abhorrent. But that seems to be what it’s all about.
‘Mr President, I’d like to thank you for signing this National Day of Prayer, that we so desperately needed…thank you for your leadership’
Believe what you want. Carry out whatever rituals are of genuine benefit to you. Subscribe to whichever insanity is going to help you deal with the real truth: we don’t know what is going on and we don’t know why.
Collette has a ritual. Arriving in a new land, she privately offers thanks to the people and ancestry of the place. She wants to do it. It makes her feel good. It allows her to cultivate gratitude and respect. Good things. What she doesn’t do, is set up a whack, low-fi sound system and impose that others do the same. At four-thirty. The minute she does, I’m out of here.
I’m suspicious of people that claim to have special knowledge of the path to God. They don’t. For me, belief in a god is fine. That’s entirely plausible. But when the claim to special knowledge about this possibility manifests itself in demands on what others must do, it’s time to call it out as crazy. Otherwise, we’ll breed a world of crazies. Oh.
Thanks for reading