Barbarians At The Door
The church bell chimed ’til it rang twenty-nine times
for each second it took for her herald.
The leaflet she left I did throw on the ground
not a green way to grub for my money.
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I believe that God has a plan for all of us.
I believe that plan involves me getting my own planet.
And I believe; that the current President of The Church, Thomas Monson, speaks directly to God.
I am A Mormon,
And, dang it! a Mormon just believes!
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Q. Oh, where can I go to learn about God, religion, being humble and serving the poor? (Remember: When claiming he out-gave Barack Obama, Mitt Romney referred to giving money to his church as “charitable donations.”)
A. Take this road two miles, hang a left at the oak tree, and look for the most opulent building in town. You can’t miss it. It’s the one that makes the Tower of Babel seem like child’s play. We call it a Temple. Don’t ask us how it was funded, though. Our financial records are more private than your phone calls.
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This weekend, Thomas Monson, the 16th President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, had a message for his faithful flock of 15 million worldwide via the LDS General Conference in Salt Lake City, Utah. We’ve built 142 temples, he proudly said, the most recent one in Gilbert, Arizona, and there will be a modest 172 of them by the time all current construction projects are completed.
Another Mormon leader had a slightly different message for the record number of nearly 85,000 Mormon missionaries crawling around the surface of this planet. Jeffrey Holland, an official member of a select group known as the Quorum Of Twelve, called on missionaries to “defend” their faith.
Holland pointed out that missionaries should stay strong and defend their faith despite the inevitable personal abuse they will encounter. (Source: FOX News.)
Since I couldn’t make the conference this year, I guess you could call this an open letter of sorts containing an opposing point of view from the Abyss. Maybe my invitation got lost in the mail?
Tom’s Law #42
You never have to defend your religion to me if you don’t stick it in my face in the first place. In other words, please don’t put me on the receiving end of your missionary position.Source: Tom’s Infinite Book of Infinite Laws
It walks like a duck
I had this science fiction vision once. It’s the farthest corner of the universe. Two humans find themselves in an alien jail. The jail is overflowing with multitudes of strange creatures, life forms and aliens. They all have differing numbers of eyes, noses, mouths and faces. Some are sticky to the touch.
Humans are extremely rare in that part of the galaxy. But, against all odds, somehow there are two of them in the very same jail. The jail is enormous, like eight times the size of the Death Star. That’s because it’s operated as a for-profit enterprise by some alien corporation. But that’s another story.
One day the two isolated humans happen to bump into each other.
In that moment, I imagine they’d find some thread of a shred of humanity and commonality that they would cling to like a life raft in that alien sea.
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Audacity of Gumption
I believe that people have the right and freedom to believe what they want. I believe that’s a basic human right.
When I meet someone, who knows what they might believe? In all likelihood they believe in God. (In this country I’d say about a 70 to 80 percent chance.) There’s at least a fifty fifty shot their political party affiliation is different than my own. There’s a high probability they believe in at least one idea that I’d consider wonky. (Bigfoot? Probed by aliens? Michele Bachmann is human? Sarah Palin is a decent hunter because she uses a helicopter?) If you think of the political spectrum as a grid, the odds drop even lower, perhaps 1/16th, that we are in the same general neighborhood.
I don’t worry about any of that stuff. I base my opinion of a person on things like how they act, what they say, if there are nice, sound pleasant and reasonable, rub me the right way, etc.
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Let Them Not Eat Cake
“Hey, that cakes looks delicious.”
“Thanks. Want a piece?”
“I don’t know. Has it been vetted? I only eat straight cake, motherfucker. That’s how they get you.”
Jesus loves the little children,
All the children of the world.
Red and yellow, black and white,
All are precious in His sight,
Jesus loves the little children of the world.
If you grow up, though, then you’re on your own. Jesus has got places to go and things to do. He has a very full schedule.
This post is about three bakeries (and probably more) that are in the business of making, among other things, wedding cakes, but have policies against providing their cakes to weddings for gay couples.
Those bakers have gotten their batter in a bother. Yes, the sacred art of stirring flour, sugar and eggs must be defended. No matter the cost. This is jihad.
OK, I’ll bite. This will be my attempt to leaven things up with a dash of reason. As always my two bits are the icing on the cake.
For dessert I’ll be serving delicious Bread of Shame, so bring your appetite! I’m generously offering to slice off little pats of my anger to be used as a topping. I’m currently off dairy.
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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