Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Musings from the Mall

I stood, absolutely amazed, at the audacity of this 210 pound woman wearing a midriff t-shirt and hip hugger jeans. Looking at her, and her oblivious pride in her appearance, made me realize that God was either dead, or just plain wrong.

If, in the unlikely event that Nietzsche, a 1966 Time magazine article, and the thrash metal band “Carnivore” – from their 1985 eponymous first album, Armagedon – are all wrong, in regards to God’s demise, then I’m forced to accept God just being plain wrong. And, I say God’s wrong, because this aberration of nature, I was convinced, had to be one of the unspoken signs of the apocalypse. So, with the thought of judgment day racing through my head, I ran out of the mall and looked to the heavens in hope of a shower of descending locusts – or at least the sun having turned red as blood… I’m not a very good Catholic, so most of my knowledge of the end of the world, and God’s fury, tend to come from what I’ve seen in movies. The locusts were in Magnolia, and the bleeding sun was in something else… or not. Regardless, my failure at Christianity is a story to be told at a later time.

*** Back on topic***

So, I ran outside. To my disappointment, there was no locust or blood red sun to be seen (IT WAS A DEMI MOORE MOVIE! You know, the one where they gassed the retard, and the sun was all blood red and crap).

Now you’re asking: “Why is he disappointed that the world didn’t come to an end?”

To which I would answer: “Simple”.

Since the dawn of man the question has existed as to whether or not there was some great celestial body watching over us. We’ve asked these questions so vigorously that we’ve created organizations dedicated to what individuals of like minds believe are his/hers/theirs/it’s rules of governance.

We’ve created wars over him/her/them/it. We’ve seen the destruction of life and liberties in some vain attempt to follow the wishes of something we’ve never shared contact or communication with. We resort to a document that is filled with antiquated references, and contradictory claims of fact. It was called the Bible (capitalized because of its importance) and rather than using it as resource of an earlier time in man’s development, we have chosen to let it build nations, leaders, laws, etc., etc., etc.

Seriously, the confusion is sometimes too much to handle!

I’m told to treat others as I would have them treat me. Well, my neighbor is gay, which according to the Bible requires me to burn down his house of sin and ill-reputed anal love bumping. The problem is, as I was gassing up the dry kindling and pallets around his home(mo), to perform my holy service to God, that gay sonofabitch was throwing Molotov candles through my fucking window.

Two fires… One God… See, that’s where everything got all fucked up.

… Again, I’ve wondered off topic…

I just want to know he/she/they/it exist. That’s why I was hoping for the Day of Judgment as prophesized in the book of ______ (refer back to the statement of my being a bad catholic). I wanted to go out and have my sins judged (which wouldn’t be a very fair trial, since – I’m assuming -- all of the really good defense attorneys went to hell first, leaving the rest of us to fend for ourselves).

Not that the trial would take all that long anyway since it’s been predetermined that I’m going to hell – And I dare someone to be surprised by that statement!

Am I a bad person? I’d like to think not. On the other hand, if someone were to pose the same question to Hitler, he’d probably disagree with being referred to as an abomination of humanity…

… This leads us back to the fat chick in the midriff and hip-huggers…

Now, I’m not God… because if I were, I would have smote her. The simple fact that she wasn’t smote only raises the questions as to his/her/their/it’s existence or death if you ask me… but, before I go on another rant… Now I know that the only “real” judge is God, but in his absence I took over (someone had to).

What may surprise you is that it wasn’t the porker in the hoochie-wear I chose to release my wrath upon. I chose to instead unleash my fury on the stupid ass who sold her the outfit in the beginning.

Sure, hip huggers and midriffs are all the rage right now, but please (for all of us) forego on the commission and think of the better good. You’re ignorance and minimum wage greed took over your better senses! You allowed this poor girl (who I did pity) to suffer an endless stream of ridicule wherever she went (I did follow, and silently ridicule to my friend… okay, pity came later, I admit).

So, with all of the omnipotent powers I could muster, I began to focus my thoughts deeply and intently on making this evil bastard/bitch, who sold Tons-a-love that outfit, head explode. You have no idea how bad I wanted to hear some mall patron scream in horror of a sudden and inexplicable head explosion.

“Can you tell the News 10 audience what you witnessed?”

Red Neck Mall Patron, Struck with Horror
“It was, like, the grossest thing I ever saw. I mean, I was standing there, see, gett’n ready to buy this new outfit that the girl said I looked like Britney Spears in, and suddenly her head jist blown up.”

“What happened after that?”

Red Neck Mall Patron, Still Struck with Horror
“Well, after that, I realized that if there is only one life and that we’re left to seek happiness on our own terms. I discovered that reality is what you can touch and feel not what you wish and dream of. In that moment, I realized that people who are forever left “wishing” die alone having never known genuine happiness, while those who actively and truthfully seek to turn a dream into a physical reality pass into death at peace with what they became in this world… whether the dream was ever fully realized or not. I also realized that my huge ass crack hangs out in these hip huggers, and that maybe I should try to wear more vertical patterns.”

I checked the evening news… No one’s head exploded. I was disappointed, but went to bed hoping that they at least had a headache.


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