RE: Maybe If You Stopped Ass Fucking Children
October 26, 2012 at 5:08 pm
(This post was last modified: October 26, 2012 at 5:53 pm by Creed of Heresy.)
Every time I read of the churches all calling for "more prayer" and "more witnessing" and "stopping the flood/rise/prominence of secularism/atheism/humanism/etc" I just get this mental image. Allow me to describe it.
I get this image of a small army of figures, standing silently in the shadows. They are spaced apart outside of personal space but close enough to reach out with their arms and rest their hands upon one another's shoulder. Before them is a titanic projection of a million video feeds of pastors and priests standing at pulpits, addressing congregations that even as their "spiritual leaders" desperately scream (froth and spittle flying from their lips, their eyes bulging in zealous desperation) for faith and witness and proselytizing and threaten eternal damnation, trickle away, one member at a time standing up and walking out of the doors. As they exit the doors, they join the growing number of shadowy, individualistic-yet-mutually-respecting figures witnessing this. Eventually, the pastors are howling their brittle pleas to all but a few members each. Craven-eyed, weak-willed, dim, featureless figures; the truly brainwashed and deluded, too blinded by ignorance to look elsewhere, the last hope for these "spiritual leaders." And as all watch, one by one, the pastors die of old age, their followers clinging tightly to each other, whispering in hushed tones and clucking in self-affirmation of their "faith," hollow, empty words, devoid of purpose, void of place, of reason, of truth, nothing more than sharing a mutual lie, and eventually these, too, die, most of their children drifting off to join the silent witnesses of this spectacle. The few who remain continue to exist, but it is clear to those watching that they have no purpose, no place, nothing of value to add. The amassed horde turn, not as one, but as individuals, at their own pace, in their own ways, murmuring softly to one another, discussing and debating and exchanging ideas calmly and with open minds, as they all eventually turn their eyes away from the false light provided by the religious, and towards the darkness...and in the darkness a light swells, brilliant but not blinding, awe-inspiring. The direction they stare in is to the east, where the sun would rise, but it is not the sun that is rising. It is a hundred billion stars rising into view over the horizon, swirling around a titanic quasar. The rising of the Milky Way. Still murmuring and discussing quietly, they begin to walk off into the stars. Behind them, the few delusionists who remain behind wail in despair, hands held aloft to their low-hanging sky, baying and begging for a god that is not there to make good on his promise to reveal himself to his chosen few. There is no answer. The false, blinding light overhead dims slowly, before casting the faithful into eternal darkness. Briefly, the sounds of frenzied, psychotic violence ring out...before total silence falls, nothing but the murmurings of discussion to be heard again.
This is how it will go.
I get this image of a small army of figures, standing silently in the shadows. They are spaced apart outside of personal space but close enough to reach out with their arms and rest their hands upon one another's shoulder. Before them is a titanic projection of a million video feeds of pastors and priests standing at pulpits, addressing congregations that even as their "spiritual leaders" desperately scream (froth and spittle flying from their lips, their eyes bulging in zealous desperation) for faith and witness and proselytizing and threaten eternal damnation, trickle away, one member at a time standing up and walking out of the doors. As they exit the doors, they join the growing number of shadowy, individualistic-yet-mutually-respecting figures witnessing this. Eventually, the pastors are howling their brittle pleas to all but a few members each. Craven-eyed, weak-willed, dim, featureless figures; the truly brainwashed and deluded, too blinded by ignorance to look elsewhere, the last hope for these "spiritual leaders." And as all watch, one by one, the pastors die of old age, their followers clinging tightly to each other, whispering in hushed tones and clucking in self-affirmation of their "faith," hollow, empty words, devoid of purpose, void of place, of reason, of truth, nothing more than sharing a mutual lie, and eventually these, too, die, most of their children drifting off to join the silent witnesses of this spectacle. The few who remain continue to exist, but it is clear to those watching that they have no purpose, no place, nothing of value to add. The amassed horde turn, not as one, but as individuals, at their own pace, in their own ways, murmuring softly to one another, discussing and debating and exchanging ideas calmly and with open minds, as they all eventually turn their eyes away from the false light provided by the religious, and towards the darkness...and in the darkness a light swells, brilliant but not blinding, awe-inspiring. The direction they stare in is to the east, where the sun would rise, but it is not the sun that is rising. It is a hundred billion stars rising into view over the horizon, swirling around a titanic quasar. The rising of the Milky Way. Still murmuring and discussing quietly, they begin to walk off into the stars. Behind them, the few delusionists who remain behind wail in despair, hands held aloft to their low-hanging sky, baying and begging for a god that is not there to make good on his promise to reveal himself to his chosen few. There is no answer. The false, blinding light overhead dims slowly, before casting the faithful into eternal darkness. Briefly, the sounds of frenzied, psychotic violence ring out...before total silence falls, nothing but the murmurings of discussion to be heard again.
This is how it will go.
