Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Crazy Shit

The day after Christmas, the Ash and I were fortunate enough to have a healthy dose of gifted cash burning a hole out of our collective pocket. Rather than let it escape into the hands of unworthy creditors, we decided to channel it into the coffers of a certain retail furniture establishment known for its flat-packed efficiency and myriad solutions for modern living. Having in mind that we would likely be buying something large in size, we borrowed the minivan owned and operated by Ash’s folks. Though a modern enough vehicle, it has no auxiliary input, which meant that the music on our iPhones was inaccessible, music that we carry around with us so that we won’t have to haul CD’s everywhere, which is why we had no CD’s with us, which is how we came to be listening to the radio. All the stations in town must have held a meeting wherein they conspired to play pure crap during this particular hour of the day, so we somehow ended up listening to a public access station that was broadcasting an interview with a British-sounding gentleman about his plans to clone Jesus Christ. Yeah, that one. Dude wasn’t kidding either. He had the whole thing worked out. It was too bizarre to turn off. Don’t ask me for specifics of his plan, I’m not the crazy British guy with the messiah clone plan, I’m just a guy who was riding in a van on his way to the local efficient living solutions outpost. He did mention hover-donkeys, I remember that much. The interviewer asked if he thought Jesus would be freaked out by the modern world and cars and stuff, and the guy said yes, cars would probably freak Jesus out, but we could explain to him that they’re basically like hover-donkeys. I think he was making an attempt at a joke, but when you’re talking seriously about cloning Jesus Christ, how can the rest of us be expected to know when you’re just kidding around?

For once, I didn’t feel ridiculous about constantly questioning what the hell I’m doing with my life.

People do this, you know. Spend their lives pursuing crazy shit. Sometimes that crazy shit works out and we get stuff like rocket ships and light bulbs. Other times, the crazy shit is completely wrong and ridiculous and you end up with people thinking vaccines cause autism or creationist museums. Or even worse, you get evil crazy shit. I’m looking at you, Hitler.

I know, I’m making the assumption that Jesus clone guy is going to fail. It could be that I’m just one of many millions of naysayers whose naysays will be waylaid when this dude brings about the second coming in his lab. I can live with that.

2009 has been the year I started learning to quit worrying about God. I dropped out of seminary in June, a move that felt as right as the decision to enter in the first place. I can’t quite call myself an atheist now, but I can say that I’m through chasing after a connection to this invisible whatever that I thought I had at one time. Maybe I did have such a tie at some point, or maybe I just had a certain set of chemicals processing through my nervous system that I interpreted as feeling spiritual. Or maybe both. Since then, I’ve felt as unburdened as I have disoriented. Either way, I’m done with trying to find a way to believe in something that all my senses tell me just isn’t there. And while it might seem to be a position of indecision, it feels pretty good from here.

Now hover-donkeys, on the other hand, I can believe in.

Happy New Year, All. 


Bubblewench said...

Ah Holmes, you do have the right words in this post. Awesome.

BTW - where would the hover-donkey poo go? Hover poo stations? Hover poo clean up crew?

Oh, and can you get me a hover-donkey please? I'd love one.

Julie said...

Sometimes, especially when it comes to religion, you can just articulate my thoughts exactly. Thanks.

sybil law said...

Damn - I want a hover donkey!!!
Just have to tell you again how much I love your writing and mind. Seriously. Just be a frigging writer. It's what you're so, sooo good at! (Unlike me, ending my sentences with a preposition. Or whatever the frick that is... GAH!)
Anyway, it's weird for me to read about people's doubts about God. I simply don't have them. I did - I went through all that stuff in my 20's, and completely questioned, but now, I just accept it and move on. I mean, the first place I turn to in times of turmoil, stress and even happiness is prayer - directed towards God.
Damn, too deep and I am babbling.
So what did you guys buy?

yer mama said...

I had my first doubts about God when I was 5 years old. I can remember it clearly. I am bystander to religion. I see people practice it. I see people moved by it. I see people abuse it. I remain indifferent. I think it's important to study the bible and the history of those times to be a proper scholar since the bible is the foundation for vast amounts of western art, literature, etc. (but I haven't thoroughly) Also, important to know what you are rejecting(I do). You picked it up, tried it on, but it didn't fit right so you returned it to the shelf. And it will always be there on the shelf and you might try it on again later. And I mean you as the universal you or one.

We bought Billy bookcases for the library room we are creating. :-) Colonel Mustard did it, in the library, with a Billy (bookcase).

Always Home and Uncool said...

Happy Hover Donkeys to you, too, in 2010.

Laski said...

Came over from one of my favorite blogs . . . I get it.

I do.

I went to Christian grade school/high school/college. Found a guy. Nearly married him. He was a total hypocrite (in ways I can't articulate on your blog as it would be hijacking--yet, you'd probably appreciate the irony) and now . . . he's a pastor.

One day in seventh grade I asked our pastor (during Bible study, no less) if I was an atheist. He asked me why I thought that.

I told him that I had doubts . . . I wasn't sure if any of the stories we were told made sense. I questioned the whole "God-inspired" part (crazy people say "God told me to kill the lady in the downstairs apartment--I was just following orders" OR "God told me to blow up that building"--you get where I'm going), the "miracles", the triune thing, the sacraments . . .the list went on.

He said . . . "Good, I can only imagine that God wants a thinker as a believer, not someone who follows blindly, but someone who follows because of a faith secured by thought, by the pursuit of knowledge." He wasn't being patronizing. He meant it. I found out later he had his own struggles with faith . . . he was so real, so grounded, so honest.

The way I look at it (not that you asked), you are right where you are supposed to be. And . . . I agree with those who say you need to write . . .well, I guess you are. Just keep doing it . . . you've got a gift.

Oh, look . . . I did end up hijacking the comments section.

TwoBusy said...

Mmm. Hover-donkeys. Them's good eatin'.