Lord, Save Me From Your Followers

Hello, my minions. I hope you have all been doing wonderful things, like shoving old ladies in front of buses and stomping on federally protected frogs. But now it is time for another installment of "Everything In The World Bugs Me."

I had some funny stories I was going to tell you, like the one about how I insulted all the workers at one of my favorite Mexican restaurants, by accidentally implying that they were all illegal immigrants. Or about how my daughter, looking at her baby book, started crying; when questioned as to why she was crying, she replied, "Because I was so cute!" Instead of these stories, though, I am going to tell you a much different one. About the horror I suffered through recently. A horror called: Attending One's Brother's High School Graduation Ceremony.

Yes, my youngest brother graduated from high school. Makes me feel kinda old, really, considering that I graduated 11 years ago, and I distinctly remember changing his diapers when he was a baby, and once dropping him on his head. But whatever. He's my brother, I love him, so of course I planned to attend the--dare I call them this--festivities. Even though the invitation, when it arrived in the mail, had my husband's name wrong on the envelope. And the ceremony was being held in a very far away evil place called Rio Rancho. That was all okay.

So I prepared. I took the day off work. I found a semi-appropriate outfit (gray slacks, black shirt, and--hey, I gotta be me--my totally rocking red Converse). I bought a card and stuffed a $20 in it. I printed a map and filled my gas tank, to be sure that I would reach my destination. And off I went.

I should have known it was going too well. The place where the ceremony was to be held, a big "center" where they have things like hockey games and Weird Al concerts, is veeeeery far away from my house, even though it is still considered as part of the same metro area. So it would have taken me at least 45 minutes to get there anyway. But of course, I got lost. And why shouldn't I? I never go up to Rio Rancho. There is nothing there that is worth that long ass drive. So I was all flustered and rushed by the time I arrived, with only 5 minutes to spare.

I really hate feeling flustered and rushed. But yesterday, I barely had any time to notice that, because almost as soon as I sat down, the graduates started filling in. All 250+ of them. So that took a while. And then all the teachers and administrators and priests and whatnot.

Yes, priests. Because my poor brother, like every one of us siblings, was subjected to a Catholic education. And, if I may say so (and of course I can), a Catholic education totally sucks ass. Not the school or the classes or anything, but the fact that one, you have to wear a uniform (which in my case consisted of a skirt--a skirt!! I NEVER wear skirts if I can help it--and a polo shirt), two, you have to go to church at school, all the freaking time, and three, my school was all girls. Which TOTALLY blew. But anyways.

So there we were, watching everyone walk in. And then we had to rise to pray. And then we sat back down. And then we had to get up to pray again. And then to sing a holy song. And then there was some more prayer. And then, the absolute highlight of the ceremony--the keynote speech, given by the archbishop. Yay! I was prepared for some boring drivel, something about hoping and praying the graduates go out to lead good Christian lives, blah blah blah. What we got was much different.

Apparently, the archbishop is on a crusade against: THE UNBELIEVERS. Yes. That is what the entire speech, all 20 minutes of it, was about: the evils of atheism and how the archbishop really really really hoped that none of the graduates would be seduced by the wonderful-seeming atheist life, only to discover that it is horrible and unfulfilling and makes you very sad.

Well, hell. Not only did I find that speech boring, but insulting as well. Now, I don't know that I would completely consider myself an atheist--I am not going to discount the possibility that there is SOMETHING out there. However, I can say with complete assurance that that something is not named Yahweh or God. I also know that it does not give a shit whether I eat meat on Fridays or masturbate or drink alcohol, or anything of the other myriad things that various religions forbid their followers from doing. To me, religions are not about divine power, they are about the earthly power being wielded by their leaders. As far as I am concerned, as long as you follow the golden rule--Do unto others as you would have them do unto you--you're good. Anything else is ridiculous.

So anyways. The archbishop went on and on about the horrors ultimately experienced by atheists, about how it might seem nice to sleep late on Sunday mornings rather than getting up and going to church, but that eventually atheist will become lonely and friendless and lose all their teeth and die alone in their apartment and then get eaten by their pet cats. Or something. He also decried Christopher Hitchens' book God Is Not Great, which I had just finished reading the week before and thought was fascinating and very true.

And then he said something to the effect of "And atheists become murderers and child rapists."

My response to that, of course, was, "Um, I thought that was the priests in your church?"

Anyways. So you can see how much fun I had. The rest of the ceremony was pretty standard, except for the praying. And then, it was finally OVER!! I would have thanked God, if only I believed in him.