http://jonmcnaughton.com/content/ZoomDet...erGod.html
This is an interesting painting. Notice how he groups unmarried pregnant women and professors with satan. I also think it must be very insulting how many people including the author seems to paint soldiers as these bastions of faith. I know atleast man that was a medic in normandy, and if you call him a christian he'll take your ear off. I am sure there are more given that guys are more then capable of figuring out their own views.
it is also odd that he has thomas jefferson standing next to jesus when thomas openly wrote "Millions of innocent men, women and children, since the introduction of Christianity, have been burnt, tortured, fined and imprisoned; yet we have not advanced one inch towards uniformity."
In fact there are several other figures I see here that were pretty anti christian. what do you all think?
This is an interesting painting. Notice how he groups unmarried pregnant women and professors with satan. I also think it must be very insulting how many people including the author seems to paint soldiers as these bastions of faith. I know atleast man that was a medic in normandy, and if you call him a christian he'll take your ear off. I am sure there are more given that guys are more then capable of figuring out their own views.
it is also odd that he has thomas jefferson standing next to jesus when thomas openly wrote "Millions of innocent men, women and children, since the introduction of Christianity, have been burnt, tortured, fined and imprisoned; yet we have not advanced one inch towards uniformity."
In fact there are several other figures I see here that were pretty anti christian. what do you all think?
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.