Nip It in the Bud
Lately I've noticed a new aspect of my personality that I really need to get under control quickly: I've become openly hostile towards Christians. Like most things that come to my attention, I realized this while I was in bed with Vienna. There we were, nice and comfy. I was translating some Latin while Vienna was watching her latest guilty pleasure: a primetime game show called Deal or No Deal.
If you haven't seen the show, it works kind of like this: a contestant chooses one of twenty-six metal brief cases. Each of the brief cases contains an amount ranging from one cent to one million dollars. While host Howie Mandel engages in incoherent babbling, the contestant has to pick (and don't hold me to this; I wasn't paying much attention early on) three cases which are then opened by models (Scott Thompson of Kids in the Hall fame said it best: "Modeling can mean a lot of things.") who have been assigned to guard the cases from al Qaeda (hey, that's more security than our ports are getting right now). If the amounts in the models' brief cases are low, then that means that the amount in the contestant's brief case is probably high. If this happens, then the contestant gets a "call" from "The Banker" offering them a substantial amount for their briefcase ("The Banker" is shown only in shadow. The "call" consists of Howie Mandel, whom I'm guessing early focus groups didn't want to see as a bad guy, pretending to have a conversation with "The Banker"). If the amounts in the models' brief cases are high (then so is Howie Mandel), then that means that the amount in the contestant's brief case is probably low. If this happens, then the contestant gets a "call" from "The Banker" offering them a couple of bucks and some "slightly used" issues of Jugs for their briefcase. In either case, the contestant is then offered the choice of Deal or No Deal.
Got it? Good; then let us never speak of it again.
Anyway, last night's first contestant was a Black woman in her mid-thirties who insisted on acting like a stereotype. She said "child" at least four hundred times in the span of fifteen minutes, her and her family, danced whenever a briefcase containing a small amount was opened. I swear; if I was Black I'd be leading an army of my angry brothers and sisters towards NBC's headquarters right now. Oh, and one other thing: this woman was deeply religious. In fact, the audience seemed to be comprised almost entirely of her church's choir. At the command of cruel plantation foreman Mandel, these simpletons would launch into the "No Deal" song.
Now, the woman seemed confident that Jesus had placed a million dollars in her brief case. No, I don't think that she actually said "Jesus has placed a million dollars in my brief case", but the presence of that annoying choir and her tendency to talk about her church were tantamount to shouting "God wouldn't let me down."
Case after case was opened and low amount after low amount was revealed. Each time this was followed by another round of "hallelujah dancing" and stories about the woman's church.
Maybe it's the fact that, in the last few years, I've noticed a dramatic rise in the number of news stories about morons who think that the Earth is only six thousand years old, that Gays should have to right to suffer through marriage the way that straight people do, or that the Rapture is just around the corner, or maybe it was her "Jeebuz is gonna line my pockets' attitude, but I really started to despise this woman. And so did Vienna.
When "The Banker" made his first "call" offering the woman, who earns less than forty thousand dollars a year, over thirty grand, and the choir launched into the "No Deal" song, I know I was witnessing the unfolding of an epic tragedy. And I savored every minute of it.
I'll spare you the suspense: the woman, certain in her faith in a just and loving God, eventually turned down over one hundred and twenty thousand dollars for her brief case. She walked away with five dollars. As her family stood silent, unable to comprehend the magnitude of the event which had just unfolded before their eyes, Vienna and I danced around our bedroom singing a little song of our own. It was quite different than the "No Deal" song the woman's choir had sung earlier. Our song was called the "Ha, ha. Your God has abandoned you" song. The chorus, a paraphrasing of a quote from Seneca went "Ratio nos ducet non fortuna" which means "Reason, not fortune, will lead us."
I felt badly afterwards. For all I know this woman was a genuinely nice person. Deep down inside I know that what I was venting was a rage that many Atheists feel. All day long, I come into contact with people who freely talk about the churches they attend and their faith. They're not doing it to be jerks; in fact the opposite is true; they're just making polite conversation. I never talk about my Atheism. It's not that I'm ashamed, it's just that I don't want to run the risk of being "witnessed to".Shit Luther, if I had a nickel for every well intentioned Christian who has invited me to a viewing of The Passion, I'd be writing this piece from my private, jewel encrusted, submarine.
Tonight's contestant on Deal or No Deal is an effeminate doctor. I hope, for the sake of all the Fundies who might tune in, that he wins a million dollars and donates the cash to Planned Parenthood, The ACLU, and ACT UP.