the hell with it all
If you're one of those folks that's into Jesus - and I mean really into him - I hope you had a Happy 6/6/6. Triple six symbolizes the Mark of the Beast, and the probable beginning of the End. I think we all now what that means, don't we? It’s time to start praying and stop mistaking the strip club for a church, y'know what I’m saying.
Yesterday, a Netherlands-based Evangelical organisation had called on Christians in 21 countries to hold a 24-hour prayer vigil against Satanic forces to mark so-called Devil's Day. Some feared the date 06/06/06, which signifies 666, the Biblical number of the Devil, will usher in calamities and even the end of the world.
Prayer, according to those who are believers of good faith, they say it's kryptonite to The Devil. Sure, he's the eternal embodiment of pestilence, suffering and all things unpleasant, but he just can't cope with the one thing every three year old learns to do just before dinner. We all have our weaknesses, and prayer happens to be his. The only thing that has saved us through 4,000 years of human civilization has been three year-olds saying grace at dinner.
But that was 4,000 years of ordinary days. Yesterday was anything but ordinary. It had three sixes in it, after all. Regular old prayer doesn’t cut it. No sir. It had to require a full 24 hours of "violent prayer." But then again, I'm not a authority on these things nor do I take part in such religious affairs other than plugging my head into a electronic processor. I'm given to believe that prayer for some is a lot like sex, in search for that explosive drop off point through the rougher and the better. You can throw away the power of your prayer by reciting it meekly, but I think we all know that you've only had a good prayer if it leaves a mark. And after having witnessed yesterday, I found there was nothing less than hair-pulling, ass-smacking, and literally people throwing people in front of moving taxi cabs. After all, this is the apocalypse we're talking about. Somebody hand me the ‘I survived June 6th, 2006 certificate.’
Don’t get me wrong, I'm not a atheist. But I've always been just a little suspicious of the monotheists among us. It appears that they aren't much for hedging their bets. Don't they know that if they bet the farm on the wrong god? Pragmatism dictates that we do whatever we can to prevent the Beast from making us have the Mother of All Bad Days. You and I both know we've had those before.
For that reason, I think we should all find something different to pray about. Since it was my idea, I call dibs on the God for making warm cookies, the voyeuristic thrill of cyberspace and anal sex. I've been praying to explore the rapture of my curiosity all along, but yesterday really wasn't all that different. The Voices didn’t tell me to burn anything so I sat back and nurtured the brain cancer in front of radiant glow from the comfort of my own home.
I don't want any of you to think that I'm less than wholly serious about these most dire days, because I am. I know that Satan is Real because we've dated. I've tasted that brimstone in more ways than one. Because the Devil is my bitch lover and likes to play rough. So you're going to have to pray rough if you know what I mean. Our survival depends on it.
If you're anything like me, you're going to huddle in a dark room for the next while; play a music record backwards as look back at yourself to see where life has got you and where you want to belong in this coming of age. These are trying times for us all. But if you know anything at all about me, it is that I am the eternal optimist, otherwise I would have been already dead a long long time ago. I think we can make it through this if only we engage in some extra-kinky, bruising prayer. Our mortal lives and eternal souls depend on it.
Yesterday, a Netherlands-based Evangelical organisation had called on Christians in 21 countries to hold a 24-hour prayer vigil against Satanic forces to mark so-called Devil's Day. Some feared the date 06/06/06, which signifies 666, the Biblical number of the Devil, will usher in calamities and even the end of the world.
Prayer, according to those who are believers of good faith, they say it's kryptonite to The Devil. Sure, he's the eternal embodiment of pestilence, suffering and all things unpleasant, but he just can't cope with the one thing every three year old learns to do just before dinner. We all have our weaknesses, and prayer happens to be his. The only thing that has saved us through 4,000 years of human civilization has been three year-olds saying grace at dinner.
But that was 4,000 years of ordinary days. Yesterday was anything but ordinary. It had three sixes in it, after all. Regular old prayer doesn’t cut it. No sir. It had to require a full 24 hours of "violent prayer." But then again, I'm not a authority on these things nor do I take part in such religious affairs other than plugging my head into a electronic processor. I'm given to believe that prayer for some is a lot like sex, in search for that explosive drop off point through the rougher and the better. You can throw away the power of your prayer by reciting it meekly, but I think we all know that you've only had a good prayer if it leaves a mark. And after having witnessed yesterday, I found there was nothing less than hair-pulling, ass-smacking, and literally people throwing people in front of moving taxi cabs. After all, this is the apocalypse we're talking about. Somebody hand me the ‘I survived June 6th, 2006 certificate.’
Don’t get me wrong, I'm not a atheist. But I've always been just a little suspicious of the monotheists among us. It appears that they aren't much for hedging their bets. Don't they know that if they bet the farm on the wrong god? Pragmatism dictates that we do whatever we can to prevent the Beast from making us have the Mother of All Bad Days. You and I both know we've had those before.
For that reason, I think we should all find something different to pray about. Since it was my idea, I call dibs on the God for making warm cookies, the voyeuristic thrill of cyberspace and anal sex. I've been praying to explore the rapture of my curiosity all along, but yesterday really wasn't all that different. The Voices didn’t tell me to burn anything so I sat back and nurtured the brain cancer in front of radiant glow from the comfort of my own home.
I don't want any of you to think that I'm less than wholly serious about these most dire days, because I am. I know that Satan is Real because we've dated. I've tasted that brimstone in more ways than one. Because the Devil is my bitch lover and likes to play rough. So you're going to have to pray rough if you know what I mean. Our survival depends on it.
If you're anything like me, you're going to huddle in a dark room for the next while; play a music record backwards as look back at yourself to see where life has got you and where you want to belong in this coming of age. These are trying times for us all. But if you know anything at all about me, it is that I am the eternal optimist, otherwise I would have been already dead a long long time ago. I think we can make it through this if only we engage in some extra-kinky, bruising prayer. Our mortal lives and eternal souls depend on it.
posted by daneatkinson at 7.6.06
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