Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Pray For Me? Bitch, Please

Hmm. This is what you see on Sunday....

And *THIS* is what you see Monday through Saturday.

Who are these creatures, you ask? Why they are the mythical beings you know as theists. Granted, these are only a mere subset of what is an otherwise vastly represented majority, but wherever there is a scantily clad vixen, there will always be a self-righteous sermon seething underneath, ready to pounce if you dare judge a book by a cover. Sorry, but if your cover says "I'm a Whore", then there's not much for me to go on, except that your advertising is very whorish and clearly that is what your business is offering. But I digress...

Herein lies my dilemma with the religious bunch I come across: While I have no real qualms about sexuality or what individuals do in their personal lives, many I come across feel the need to remind me that not only are they religious, they are somehow better than others who are or aren't for that matter-- after all, if you don't have the right god, who cares how sanctified you are, right? But, you have individuals like me who are quick to remind the girls in the first photo that they are the same girls in the bottom photo, but what do you get from them? Not an "I understand and I'll change my message." Not a "Well, you have me there. I'll police myself before I go judging others." What do I get? The same thing I always get:

I'll pray for you.

You are going to pray for me? There are so many things wrong with that, it's not even funny. And to be clear, I'm not targeting religious women in particular for misogynistic purposes, but namely because in my experience, I have been preached and proselytized to by more women than I can count, and what I got in return was a bunch of pretty words and beaucoup hypocrisy. The men are just as hypocritical, though; for every one you see with the top photo girl, they're fantasizing about the bottom photo girl, or sleeping with her on the side. But all in all, they'll still pray for me like their shit is together. Here's the deal when you pray for me: 

1. Fuck you.

2. Unless your life is 100% perfect and your health is 100% perfect, how about you save those prayers for yourself instead of forcing your god on me?

3. Are you really praying for me, or just saying you'll pray for me because you want to end the conversation? Ask any atheist, and they will testify to at one point in their lifetime being told they would be prayed for by the other person when the conversation was getting intense, with no resolution in sight.

4. Why are you even announcing it? I don't need you to inform me of an impending magic request at the hands of your god... just do it. Pray if it makes you feel better; far be it from me to tell you how to waste your time. Broadcasting your so-called pious intentions reeks of grandstanding, and we know how Jesus feels about that.

5. Take your arrogance down a notch. I'm sorry but if I don't believe your god exists, you saying you're going to pray for me is like me saying I'm going to think for you: It's insulting and counterproductive. If you really want to make your case, present evidence for your argument instead of appealing to ignorance and the unproven supernatural to get some kind of upper hand you don't have. 

6. Don't ever bring up free will to me again. Why? Because if you believed in free will, you would not be praying for me, as doing so would violate my free will to not believe in a god. Remember? It's my choice to not believe believe in a god, as you claim, and God gives us the free will to make that choice. Does this sound familiar to some of you? Well, praying for me indicates that maybe you don't like that God bestows that free choice on us and you're basically saying, "Hey, God... fuck what you're doing with your Will being done and shit, and listen to me. You see that schmuck over there? Go on and change his mind about you existing... but free will and junk when it comes to murder and child rape."

Bitch, please. Instead of worrying about why I don't believe in your god and where I'm sticking my ding-a-ling, worry about why you're the one with the religion and yet our lives aren't that different. I'm not waiting until marriage to have sex, cuss like a sailor, and spank it whenever the mood is right-- and so do you. However, there's no unread bible on my mantle collecting dust, nor is there some imaginary friend in the darkness of the univserse that comes along whenever I need it in order to shame someone else for doing the same crap I do. Don't pray for me... save your prayers for yourself. 

You're the only one listening anyway. 

My sentiments exactly, Pat Robertson

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