Sorry I ruined Christmas for Everybody (775 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.36 on 13 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Drone of Industry (View user info) at 2006-01-03 17:07:39 EST
It seemed strangely desolate as I was making the homeward bound voyage this Christmas Eve. I looked for cars on the road around me but there were none to be seen. I was on the couple hour stretch of road through Indiana that is particularly barren, except for the Arby's/gas station at the halfway mark to piss at.
Fiddling with some CDs I managed to slip off the road just enough to swerve back on at 65mph and scare the hell out of myself. No big deal really. But then I started delving into my mortality. I freaked out about the afterlife and wondered to what extent I had wasted this life.
I over reacted. So I listened to gospel stations, Christmas carols, and even a holiday radio play to ease out of existential crisis mode. ...weird Christian song that made fun of atheists... It was borderline offensive. I wished someone was there to co-experience.
Home at last. My mom answered the door with a sour aura, her mouth pinched.
"You said you were going to be here in time for church!"
I never said that. I said "maybe".
I managed to steer out of a lecture for the remainder of the evening while they were temporarily inebriated by Jeff Foxworthy, some CSI knock off, and the excruciating Daddy Day Care, but I feared Christmas morning would be here sooner than later.
I woke up to my father. "Are you going to go to church, John?" he asks. I wiped my eyes and claimed "no" as sincerely as I could. He couldn't believe I wasn't going to go to Christmas Mass on a Sunday of all days (double whammy). I told him I'd be a hypocrite not to attend church all year and then just go on Christmas.
He started gritting his teeth, like he always does when he gets angry, but there was something that was even more overpowering coursing through him this time... He was genuinely, emotionally wigging out that his youngest son had become a heathen. "You think everything's gotta be exciting! You get too bored at church... is that it? Or is it that you just can't help but sleep till noon all the time?"
Caught off guard, I tried to outline my argument with Catholicism, as much, and as quickly as I could in my blurry awoken state.
"bla bla bla... It's more stifling than sacred, keeping me in line with a conformist, reluctant, conservative value system that the 'powers that be' constantly feed through our brain stems. The church and its agenda have been filtered through the greedy hands of power hungry, self righteous humans for centuries, and I can't trust it. I truly believe that spirituality runs rampant beneath the surface of this existence, but mind you, there are alternative ways to tap into it. ...bla bla bla."
He wasn't gonna have it. Scary stuff that he said, as verbatim as I can put it, is as follows...
"I pray all the time for you to go to church, John, because I don't want you to go to hell. Ever since you moved to the BIG CITY you've lost your faith. I bet none of your friends go to church, do they? You guys just sit around and philosophy everything instead of attending Mass. And why does everyone always got to find SOME OTHER religion? What! Do you believe in Buddha now or something? ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU DON'T BELIEVE THAT JESUS ROSE FROM THE DEAD?"
I didn't answer that last question.
I eased the tension down by turning this morning's Mass into a father/son experience. "I'm not gonna go to church by myself, but if you'd go with me, Dad, then I'd like to go." And it was agreed that we'd do so.
We walked in and sat in the last pew.
All I could do was sing every song as passionately as I could to redeem myself in my father's eyes. Actually, if there is anything I am most thankful for about church, it was the primary place I developed my singing voice and songmanship. My mother would belt it out, and I would sing full throttle with total confidence by her side. My dad is completely tone def.
We were all sinners in the omniscient eyes of this judgmental god, despite our presence on Christmas morning. How could I celebrate Christmas with the weight of THIS on my shoulders?
Maybe it's my own personal spin on Catholicism, but whatever, it's not healthy for me. It's something I just want to cast away, but I know it will forever haunt my existence. It's been pounded into my head all of my life that if you desert your faith of this specific power, then you are doomed!
The drive to make amends with one's Self seems more plausible as any validation from a higher invisible power. I didn't see where church, and this illusion of brownie points through attendance, made any sense. Yet I was still afraid. I thought about the obliteration and total abandon of Catholicism that I managed to wipe clean from my hands just a few years back. But now it was returning with a vengeance. Seeing my parents with such conviction revived a fear of death and reduced my life to a palace of sin.
Upon returning home from church, I watched mom and dad open their presents for each other (my three brothers and sister all have their own families now). Then my dad said he had something for me. I figured it was the typical 'money in the envelope with a hole in the center for the president's head to show through', but then he pulled out something I wasn't expecting. He said, "I don't want you to think I'm persecuting you, but..." and he gave me a rosary. "It was blessed by Father Bradley. Y'know whenever I pray to Mary, it always comes true."
We went out to go visit siblings and my grandma. In the car I was talking about the selectivity of the bible, how church used to be in joint with the government, how you can't trust the government, therefore I don't entirely trust the bible. Although my dad voted Bush, is suspicious of people on the other side of the world, and loves Jesus, he still hates the government like any other decent human being, so it was a language he could understand.
Later on, my brother Scott was chatting men men men used to run everything, so they got rid of Mary Magdalene's 'gospels' cause she didn't fit into the male dominated hierarchy. My mom said that she heard that too, that Magdalene was claimed to be the 13th 'apostle' and that she was also NOT a prostitute.
So here they go now, believing that, sure, the church manipulated the books a long time ago, yet still believing EVERYTHING THEY WANT to believe. Oh, how nice! Mary Magdalene, who was so close to Jesus, never did anything dirty after all, AND she is a long lost apostle!
I don't know what tv show or magazine they get this shit from. Jesus Time was reportedly a couple thousand years ago, and they're talking as if it was discovered just the other day. Is it possible that they only recently unearthed Mary Magdalene's gospel from a deep, dark, hidden cave somewhere?
I remember in high school I used to joke about how Santa wasn't real... just a myth, and how someday I was going to find out Jesus was all a big lie growing up too. Now that joke truly is a sort of reality!
Notice I say "sort of"... I don't want to completely deny my Lord Savior Jesus Christ.
That's whose gospel I really want to read!
I went to see my friend Brad that Christmas night. We talked about religion and girls. He was a bit pessimistic about the whole shebang. But then we got stoned and spent much of our night either laughing ourselves silly on the deck of his apartment or plopped in front of the tv watching the Discovery Channel.
What was on? It was an over dramatized, computer generated, larger than life series about Evolution.
Talk about black and white... I was tripping out, as it coursed through a time before the dinosaurs. Now THIS was hell! Survival of the fittest, man! Everything is out to eat you, earth's climate is nothing more than a fucking wasteland, and there is no point in living except for simply surviving.
I saw the strengths and weakness of all the animals in the circular chain of their microcosm.
For instance, a 'Dodecahedron' (or whatever) is a water animal, therefore he can do all of 'this', but the side effect of being a water animal is all of 'this'.
A human has knowledge, therefore he knows all 'this', but the side effects to his overactive brain are the illusions, the ego, and the whatnots he conjures in 'this'. (And also the fact that his brain can't help him outrun a stampede of crazed rhinoceros)
Then there was a series on Neanderthals. This is off the subject, but there were some really funny dramatizations... including this caveman stealing an ostrich egg. The ostrich spots him, so the Neanderthal bolts with the egg, the ostrich in hot pursuit. Caveman's buddy was supposed to back him up, but he was too busy eating grubs off the rocks to witness the confrontation. Screaming ensues, and he quickly looks over to see ol' naked Caveboy being chased and pecked repeatedly by this ostrich. He perks up, picks up his spear, and trails behind at a distance. Caveboy then trips, falls, and the giant egg smashes on his face. With yoke all over his forehead, he gets up to continue running but then suddenly drops into a pit with the ostrich. Caveboy is in a frenzy as the ostrich violently pecks the shit out of him. Cue point of view shots from the ostrich, darting toward the caveman's screaming face. Caveboy's friend lets down his hand and pulls him up, the ostrich violently head butting his bare ass as he struggles to get to high ground. Then they both get spears and turn to the ostrich with ill contempt. One last point of view shot from the ostrich in the pit... As you see both cavemen rare up, thrust their spears into the camera, and then freeze frame like they are about to seriously fuck this ostrich up...
A dramatization as funny as this reminded me that just because a show is on the Discovery Channel doesn't mean it's true. All of these accounts I had seen were educated guesses and embellished scenarios based on loose evidence. It also reminded me that dinosaurs and their ancestors lived for hundreds of millions of years. I don't think us humans have even reached a million yet!
So the night dragged on pleasantly as we drooled all over ourselves, and I thought some heavy shit... that I gotta find a road somewhere in between the black and white of this world. There is a personal path that I need to construct for myself. I have faintly heard the calling. Perhaps it is time to respond.
Church is not the problem here (although its bearing on the relationship with my parents might be). I need to wake up from apathy. I need to start taking those steps again and again in my own direction towards spirituality. I need to walk and talk the honest to God truth for the benefit of myself and everyone around me. "You get what you give" my boss said the other day. Yeh. This is not a huge revelation. This is something we all have to do in the current climate of this world that sedates us.
But in my head when I'm stoned, these visions of 'the right path to spirituality' get quite daunting. They are that of bearing Christ's cross, the sacrifice of everything I currently am to become who I am meant to be, to destroy the icon and rebuild new life on the foundation of that rock... that core essence of truth.
That truly is scary. Because it is very real.
The next day, mom, dad, all of my siblings, and myself came together for the big celebration with all 15 of the nieces and nephews. I gave each family a kiddy album to be shared among the children. I spent much of November and December writing and recording it for them, and personalized some really cool handmade packaging! They went straight to their room, took out that Kenny Chesney (or whoever the fuck that lame ass country singer is) from their Barbie pink boom box and pumped up my cover of 'Beat on the Brat'. They screamed along with it through the karaoke microphone, and then we were all twirling around each other square-dance style until we fell down.
Hopefully, none of those innocent little children will ever have to bear the eternal flame of Hell as I will.
I don't know if I'll pray on that rosary or not. If anything, I'm gonna keep it because dad would want me to. Maybe I'll re read those gospels someday though. There is some good to be taken from it. Especially if I just modify everything to fit MY philosophy like everyone else does.
User Reviews
Submitted by ParlorTrick (user info) at 2006-01-04 12:02:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"The drive to make amends with one's Self seems more plausible as any validation from a higher invisible power."
(There is no Santa Claus)
Submitted by Drone_of_Industry (user info) at 2006-01-04 11:59:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
i know what a dodecahedron is. it was a joke.
Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (user info) at 2006-01-04 10:41:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Oh yea, I also forgot to mention.... Mary Magdeline is now thought to have been an apostle. She wrote her own gospel as well. It was discovered in Egypt and has been published along with other discovered scrolls called the Apocrypha, or Gnostic texts.
There is also a Gospel According to Thomas that exists and is among those that the Catholic church decided to leave out.
Kinda hard to see how the Bible can be very concrete and authoritative when you consider who compiled and translated it.
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2006-01-04 10:40:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
a dodecahedron is a polygon with 12 sides. The Simpsons taught me that.
Submitted by helbling (user info) at 2006-01-04 04:15:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Worth reading, bt I felt it wondered a tad during the discovery channel bit - appeared to loose relevance for a while, but that didn't detract from the quality of the writing.
The Mary Magdelene stuff is actually fairly recent - it only came to light that the Church had vilified her quite severely when the Dead Sea Scrolls were found, and since then there has been much speculation over what else they may have 'edited', one of the most touted theories being the basis of the Da Vinci Code, by Dan Brown.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-01-03 20:33:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
jakls;nugk;
Submitted by FannyGrady (user info) at 2006-01-03 20:09:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by FilthyAssistant (user info) at 2006-01-03 19:11:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
I had a friend who was raised as a Jehovah's Witness, but he rejected religion somewhere in his early to mid teens and became the most forceful and passionate (if that's possible) athiest I have ever known. Many, many years later, he was involved in a car accident and woke up in hospital to find to his horror that during a period of semi-consciousness he had been trying to make the nurses swear that they wouldn't give him a blood transfusion because he was a JW. Interesting how it stays with you.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-01-03 18:44:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm also a recovering Catholic. Well, not so much anymore, I've all but completely conquered my guilt.
My friend's parents are infinitely more devout than my family ever was. I always joked his mom thought I was some sort of whore, what with the late hours we kept and my ripped jeans. Then, it happened- he gave me a rosary from his mom. Apparently, the Virgin Mother appeared to her and told her to do so. That set my recovery back a little bit.
But not much.
Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (user info) at 2006-01-03 18:30:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-01-03 17:33:52 (#)
Ranking: 0
This was too fucking long.
All you had to say was "fuck church" and "I will not be coming home for any more holidays if you don't drop it".
-----------------
What a lazy retard.
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2006-01-03 17:47:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Once when I was in Hawaii, on the island of Kauai, I met a mysterious old stranger. He said he was about to die and wanted to tell someone about the treasure. I said, "Okay, as long as it's not a long story. Some of us have a plane to catch, you know." He stared telling hes story, about the treasure and his life and all, and I thought: "This story isn't too long." But then, he kept going, and I started thinking, "Uh-oh, this story is getting long." But then the story was over, and I said to myself: "You know, that story wasn't too long after all." I forget what the story was about, but there was a good movie on the plane. It was a little long, though.
Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-01-03 17:33:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
This was too fucking long.
All you had to say was "fuck church" and "I will not be coming home for any more holidays if you don't drop it".
Submitted by MistressFist (user info) at 2006-01-03 17:21:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
"And how did you feel, being denied these hungry, hungry hippos?"