I was born into christianity.

My father is a righteous, born again ex-alcoholic demagogue. And I still say this with love in my heart.

My mother is an enigma. Sometimes I can't tell if she really buys into all the outrageousness. At least he's sober. Anything is better than him drinking. I say that with doubt in my heart.

We live in the bible belt. As many preachers and congregations as needed. Almost every cousin, uncle or aunt of mine is a true believer.

But... I can no longer accept Jesus Christ as the redeemer or savior. A savior from what? Naughtiness? Ourselves? Satan? Are we not perfect as we are? Are we children of a lesser god? If I created life in my image, would it be anything less than perfect? Hell no! Gods and Goddesses all around. Fuck you Jehova and burn in your own Hell of ineptitude!

I find the idea of the cross as a symbol of love truly perverse. Men and women have suffered and died on it. Jesus died on the fucking thing for speaking his mind, it sure as hell wasn't his master plan!

It has taken me years to come out of the christian closet. The angst from lying to yourself. The physical manifestations of this angst: depression, shingles, cancer...

But I see the same holier-than-thou attitude amongst ourselves and I find this disturbing. Live and let live even if you don't receive the same courtesy.

As humans we long for a spiritual dimension, but do we really have to be content with a schizofrenic god?

BBEN

Brian urging a throng of false-idol worshippers to think for themselves--to which they reply en masse "Yes, we must think for ourselves!"; the fact that everything Brian does, including losing his sandal in an attempt to flee these wackos, is interpreted as "a sign." "Life of Brian"

"Is simplicity best or simply the easiest? The narrowest pass is always the holiest. So walk on barefoot for me, suffer some misery. If you want my love, if you want my love." Depeche Mode

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