Great openers

I need to pee. Which, as opening lines go, probably won’t be counted among the greatest of all time. I was going to go with ‘Call me Ishmael…’, but apparently that’s been taken.

It is better to fail in originality than to succeed in imitation – Herman Melville

IMG-20110729-00128.jpg

… and while not a white whale of mythical proportions and foul temperament… It is a whale, snapped mid breach, with an iPhone, while (somewhat) inebriated. Which has to count for something.

In any event. I was just about to launch into a self-involved tirade about my day… heap some scorn upon those who vexed me… maybe break out some self pity, while seeming just sad (but not pathetic) enough to evoke some concerned comments…. you know normal blog stuff.

But now my bladder has laid waste to all these machinations and I am forced to tack against the wind. I use a sailing metaphor. And likely use it incorrectly. But since we are channeling Captain Ahab … and since this is my blog… I can decide to use an obtuse nonsensical analogy, as is my right, as granted to me by Matt Mullenweg and the power of Greyskull. Slash WordPress.

*Joey bounces off to go use the facilities*

Is it satire or sarcasm that’s the lowest form of wit? (the things I think about while vacating my bladder) I can’t remember…

I’m guessing sarcasm, but don’t they broadly mean the same thing? I feel I should probably know this. I have huge gaps in my tuition. (Most likely caused by brain damage)

My eighth grade English teacher, a diminutive (but violent) nun called Sister Mary-Joseph, used to punch me because I couldn’t identify clauses in a sentence… or the conjunction that joined them (still can’t). Likely a motivational technique that would be frowned upon in modern climes.

Under duress I would randomly point to non specific part of the sentence in the hope that I had guessed correctly and that I could sit back down. Unfortunately for me Sister Mary-Joseph recognized my duplicity and negatively reinforced me accordingly (with her fists).

This is my clergy abuse story. Fortunately I didn’t have go down on anyone…  and by association shallow a warm, viscous load of the ‘Holy Spirit’. So pretty mild really.

For the most part I think I turned out okay…

*someone in the peanut gallery starts laughing*

Except for knowing anything technical about the English language I mean.

And maybe some other ‘stuff’

Apatheism

I don’t think apatheism is a real word. It’s the smashing together of apathy and theism. For me at least, it’s meant to describe an outlook that I think isn’t neatly intended by atheism, agnosticism or indeed apostasy. (I wanted to alliterate early on)

“In fact, “atheism” is a term that should not even exist. No one ever needs to identify himself as a “non-astrologer” or a “non-alchemist.” We do not have words for people who doubt that Elvis is still alive or that aliens have traversed the galaxy only to molest ranchers and their cattle. Atheism is nothing more than the noises reasonable people make in the presence of unjustified religious beliefs.” – Sam Harris, Letter to Christian Nation. 

AdobeStock_79009182-825x510.jpeg

I used to be a devout Catholic, the product of childhood indoctrination. Throughout my entire schooling I attended a Catholic convent school (the kind crewed with nuns and other zealous laity). My best friend in my mid twenties was a Catholic priest* (who was more or less the same age as me). This was likely the beginning of the end because it allowed me to pull back the veil (so to speak) and get a clear glimpse into the inner workings of the Catholic church. And it was not pretty (still isn’t).

Continue reading “Apatheism”