[Ed. – There was a WordPress goof, this was supposed to be the first post of the day. We regret the error. — TG. PS, Keeping it on top, fresher (hahaha) posts below.]
Regular readers know that I am not a person of faith, and as I quip everywhere, I don’t even have the faith that the next Kleenex will pop up, and I’m right most of the time. But that said, I do understand that many other people do have faith. My personal fight against theocracy is not so much driven by atheism as it is that I want the fetus-fondling god-botherers to leave everyone else alone. They can believe in the Kleenex popping up, I don’t care. I don’t even care enough to try to help the theocrats see the error of their way.
As seems to be my habit during the holidays I read the same two books: Christopher Moore’s The Stupidest Angel, and Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett (and for Blog’s Sake, if you do buy them go to your local bookstore).
And that’s about as close to dogma as I will ever get.
In both books, Supernatural forces screw up, and eventually humanity muddles through, and is saved—not through divine intervention (well, not really)—but through the failings of our human nature. We ourselves are the divine comedy – that is the message of both books. It’s strangely uplifting to think that we might be the ineffable.
So, in this season of culturally enforced religiosity, I look to each of us, flawed and damaged as we might be, and I am so grateful to all of us, fellow Scissorheads, saints and sinners all that we found each other and continue to keep up the good fight against the pontificating poltroons.
I’m wishing the believers the merriest of Christmases and happy holidays to all the rest of us heathens. Be kind to each other today and on the other 364 days of the year.