Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Special Like a Fox

Hi! How are you? I’m a crazy foo wit ocd and anxiety every time I pee,
I know your mother, we used to play bridge, now she calls me daddy and puts groceries in my fridge.
You like it? You love it? Don’t really matter
Just playin, homie, i’m special and I know it.

Special like a fox. I wonder why I feel so special. I’ve felt special since I was a kid. I was smarter than most of the people around me. Like, I was maybe 5 years old, maybe younger, and I distinctly remember hanging out with this girl in my class after school. We were talking and I managed to talk her into taking her shirt off.

This little 5 year old boy seducing this 5 year old girl. Sounds hot, right? But I went to this devout Christian school, and I got in big trouble. They told my dad when he picked me up, and I got an earful from him. So instead of learning that I was a fucking pimp, I became afraid to approach women sexually.

Bada BING! eat that cheese motha fucka!

Anyways, this school: Trinity Christian School. My parents sent me here, but we weren’t christian. I mean Christian. But the school had great academics, it was way ahead of the public schools. So me and my brother went to this school full of mostly fundamentalist christians. I mean Christians. and, not surprisingly, I too became one. A Christian.

I prayed to god. I mean God. And I asked for his forgiveness for all my sins. I asked Jesus into my heart, for his blood to wash away my sins. We studied the bible. I mean Bible, in class. I learned a lot about Noah, and Moses, and even all the other guys that I forgot about. David, I think. Anyways, they were always talking to god. I mean God, and God would tell them to do this and that, or God would set someone on fire, or protect them from fire, or feed them to lions, or whatever he wanted because he was god. I mean God.

And I accepted these stories. Smart little nerd boy that I was, I had faith. I said OK God, I believe you. Now bring me a new bike. Because that’s the kind of shit you pray for when you’re a kid where no one is dying or something awful.

But then I started thinking. And this is the part where religion falls apart for some people, when they decide to use this squishy thing in their heads. I started thinking, hey, what about my mom. Cuz you see, my mom was from Hong Kong. She was Chinese. And I thought, hey, if you live in china. I mean China, somewhere, what if you never hear about Jesus Christ? What if no missionary group ever finds you, and you live your whole life and die without knowing the word of god. I mean God. ? Does that mean you go to hell?

Because that’s what they teach you in Christian school, that if you sin and don’t ask Jesus to be your savior, you go to hell.

And I was pretty sure Chinese people sinned too, so that would mean they would all go to hell. And if there was some tribe of brown people on some island in the Pacific, who never came into contact with white people, and they never heard about Jesus, much less accepted him as their lord and savior, well, what the fuck happens to them when they die?

They just burn in hell for eternity, for a geographical error?

That’s fucked up.

And then I realized that God was either A.) an asshole or B.) not actually what we read in the bible. I mean Bible.

Christianity kind of fell apart for me after that.

But it was a good run. I’m jealous of religious people. I remember the warm, fuzzy feeling I’d get when I’d pray, cuz I thought some all-powerful superman in the sky was listening and would protect me and gave a shit about me. Because that feeling is important for a kid, and I didn’t get much of it from my actual gods, the people who actually gave me life, who turned me from slime into a human being, my parents.

Fucking assholes.


Robbie said...

brilliant. please write for me when i become a famous television writer

Michael said...