Read The Douchebag Bible Online
Authors: TJ Kirk
mind.
“God!” Is it just something to scream when
we’re mad or when we’re cumming? Is he just
someone to thank before every meal? Is she our
mother earth, forests sewn into her skin like hairs
and rivers covering her body like veins?
What is God? Maybe God is an if. If we don’t
know the answer, then the answer is God. If God
makes us feel good, then God is real. If all my
friends believe that there is a God, then there is a
god.
Maybe God is a contingency plan; an ejector
seat when reality becomes too difficult. Some say
that God is manifest in the splendor of the universe.
Why then is he not manifest in the squalor of the
universe?
We say “God damn it!” when we stub our toe,
as if God will hear us and smite the table that we
stubbed it on. We say, “God willing,” when we hope
that God will intercede on the behalf of our cause.
We say “God bless you,” when someone sneezes,
because apparently God cares a lot about the rapid
expulsion of mucus from your nostrils. We say,
“God help us,” when doom approaches. We say, “Oh
my God,” when exasperation overtakes us. We say,
“Why, God?” when malady afflicts us. We say, “God
works in mysterious ways” when what we really
mean is that the universe acts in random and
callous ways. We say, “God bless America,” or “God
save the Queen,” or something similar to express
our loyalty towards whatever government power
lords over our lives. We say, “God is watching,” to
instill fear. We say, “God is good,” as if to convince
ourselves that this is true. We call the righteous men,
“God-fearing.”
Fearing God is righteous? “God-loving” is not
a term that has yet entered the common vernacular,
though God is sometimes referred to as a “Loving
God.”
We say, “In God we trust,” but if that were true,
then what use would we have for all these tanks and
missiles. We say, “God helps those who help
themselves.” But those who help themselves don’t
need God’s help.
What is God? Is God an X. A variable? A place
marker?
God is that which we need God to be. A despot
one moment, a redeemer the next. One who will
love you, but send your enemies to roast in flames.
One who is so great that he created the universe, yet
so petty that he persecutes the homosexuals. One
who explains everything that isn’t explained, until
someone else explains it.
Believers, I ask: is God you? Is God your
biases? Is God your judgments? Is God your ego?
Let’s cut to the chase: Are you God?
When you say, “God damn this chair!” aren’t
you really the one damning the chair? When you
say, “God Bless America!” aren’t you really
expressing your own love for America. When you
say, “God doesn’t approve of the sinners,” aren’t
you really saying that you don’t approve of
someone, and so you’ve slapped the sinner label
onto them?
When football players thank God for victory,
aren’t they really saying, “Thank God for making
me so great.”? Isn’t God a crutch, not just for your
life, but for your ego?
Without God, would your perception of the
world collapse? Or would it broaden beyond your
mind’s ability to comprehend?
What is God?
What is God?
I think, believers, that God is the opinions that
you can’t otherwise justify. God is your intellectual
laziness. God is your ego. God is that which you
need God to be. God is X. God is the sum of all your
willful ignorance. God is a convenience. God is a
social adhesive. God is exclusionary. God is your
bigotry. God is an excuse. God is your clever ploy to
avoid thinking, responsibility and the need to
develop a sense of social justice. God is your lie.
What is God?
God isn’t real.
My God is my world. My life. My friends. My family.
My time. My lifespan. The breath I draw is God. The
photons that hit my eyes are God. The neurons firing
in my head are God.
The world is bigger than I perceive it to be, but
my world is exactly as big as I perceive it to be,
because my perception controls its size. That's how
I found a measure of happiness is a world infested
by
drones,
conformity-enforcers,
pseudo-
spiritualists and other assorted phonies.
Do I have hope? Or have I abandoned the
notion? So I believe, as my friend Galen believes,
that hope is the last act of a desperate man? Do I
echo my hero, George Carlin, when he proclaims
that his motto is “FUCK HOPE”?
My attitude towards hope at this point is that if
hope helps you, then have hope. If it does you no
good, then don't have it. Personally, I don't care
about it. I have personal ambitions that I obviously
hope are fulfilled, but I have no particular hope for
the human race or for our society or any other
society, be it in the future or on another planet or