Useless Information

“If you are the Christ,” they said, “tell us.” Jesus answered, “If I tell you, you will not believe me.” (Luke 22:67)

Truth my ass. I don’t want truth; I want what I want. Period. If the truth helps me get it, fine. But if the truth stands between me and what I want, the hell with it.

I don’t want more revelation either. Why would I want more spiritual information when I haven’t lived up to the sound bites I’ve already got? I may be blasphemous but I’m not stupid. My boat’s already riding low in the water. I’m looking to throw off some ballast not add to it.

And don’t give me that “show me your glory” crap either. Like I really want God to fire up the acetylene torch on me. Glory is freaking dangerous. I’ve seen Raiders of the Lost Ark. One peek and your face is jello, baby. You can thank your un-fried face that God hasn’t shown you the dude behind the curtain. Personally, I want him to keep his rheostat on dim. Sure, he can have all the power and glory he wants; I just prefer that he keep it to himself.

And that Bible of yours? Suicide. Every line that you read is a stick of dynamite in your shorts. Why in the world would you want to study the instrument of your future torture? You think you’re going to find spiritual nuggets in there? In your dreams. Those pages are barbed wire. They’re Jesus-coated cyanide. Everytime you dip your nose in that book you’re kissing your little butt goodbye. I say stay away from it. The heat’s a lot lower for ignorance than it is for disobedience.

So I’m not asking, buddy. I’m not seeking or knocking either. No freaking way. Not because I’m afraid nobody’s going to answer, but because I’m pretty sure somebody is going to—and it ain’t going to be Mr. Potato Head. Any deity nuts enough to send his kid to get stapled to a stick is nobody I want to mess with. I know too damn much already.

Sometimes ignorance is the best policy. I sure wish I’d learned that sooner.

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One Response

  1. Everyone, Fred is a genius!
    Now where’s my money?

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