What’s this world coming to if we can’t find a single lost little girl? Dammit Dammit Dammit Dammit. After nearly a month, where is she? No wonder we can’t fight the ‘war on terror’ or stop the drug trade. We may deserve whatever we get.
A dangerous religious fanatic who tried to force America to bend to his will has passed away, in the training center he set up to indoctrinate young recruits to follow his beliefs. Yes, Jerry Falwell, self-appointed voice of the “Moral Majority” has died at his Liberty University at age 73. While I’m not the type to shout “Hooray” when someone shuffles off this mortal coil, I have to admit a certain relief that this loonie won’t be around anymore to inflame situations with his inane ranting. Remember, this is the same Dr. Falwell who blamed 9/11 on Gays, Liberals and other loose-living people. In my opinion, Jer and Osama are two sides of the same coin. One kills and murders in the name of his god, while the other, I suspect would have liked to. Good riddance, I say. Fundamentalism, no matter what religion, is the cancer of the 21st century. It’s very sad we’re saddled with this medieval nonsense after all this time.
I was watching a financial news show on tv the other day, when the presenter said “controversy”. No big deal, you think; but it’s how he pronounced it: ‘con-trovisy’. Say what? It’s ‘con-tro-versey’. How did you read it just now? I hear a lot of this going on lately. News readers just toss off new ways of saying words we’ve all used without trouble for years. When did alternative pronunciations become acceptable? I don’t recall voting for any of it. I’ll have to start compiling a list as I hear them and post them here so you don’t think I’m making any of this up.
Going back to the first paragraph in a way, I had a visit today from two older gentlemen dressed in nice black suits. I was friendly enough until I spotted the leaflet they were trying to press upon me, with the cow-eyed Jesus and the words “Christ the Redeemer”. I said no thank you and shut the door in their faces. I don’t have any time for niceties when it comes to this sort of baloney. It’s my house, and they come to my door unannounced and uninvited to push this stuff in my face? I don’t think so. What do they really expect to happen? Could it be that I’ve never heard of Jesus Christ, and I fall upon my knees in gratitude for being enlightened as to him and his message? Odds are I’m aware of who he is, and am free to choose if I’m interested. If I am, I don’t need them coming to my house waving their leaflets. It’s a case of literally ‘preaching to the choir’. If I’m not interested, I’ll slam the door in their faces. Maybe they were nice grandfatherly fellas, but religion is like cockroaches: you have to use excessive force to eradicate the pests or they’ll take you over. I think going door to door is just a waste of time. You don’t see Rabbis or Mullahs wandering through neighborhoods, ringing bells and shoving pamphlets through mailslots. Makes you wonder how they can keep recruiting if they don’t work the wards.
I watched the world final snooker championship last night, until nearly 1am. Good job to John Higgins for hoisting the trophy a second time, and also to Mark Selby, who made the match one worth watching.
I enjoy watching snooker, and will say that Ronnie O’Sullivan is my favourite player, altho he can be maddingly frustrating to watch at times. He is a genus, but I fear his time may have passed him by. Same for Stephen Hendry, altho he can’t seem to take the hint. Anyway, I like snooker, but it’s not the kind of thing you can really think about too much, or it stops making sense. Snooker, like nearly all sports, consists mainly of people paid a lot of money to do very simple tasks (yes, I know it takes a lot of skill, but the point is, the idea is very simple). In this particular example, I just spent 18 days watching people on television hitting balls into holes with sticks. What kind of statement is that to base your life around?
“Hi; what do you do for a living?”
“I hit balls into holes with a stick”
“Ah, yes… pay well?
“Well, when I’m successful at it, yes”
Snooker players practice four to five hours a day or more to be the best at hitting balls into holes with sticks. Instead of living their lives with loved ones or friends, they’re usually down at some dingy club under a fluorescent light, hitting balls into holes with a stick. While doctors and firemen are saving lives and making differences in the world around them, other people are using up their alloted days, hitting balls into holes with a stick. It’s a funny world.
And other sports are just as odd; tossing balls through a hoop, fighting to move a ball over a goal line, hitting a ball back and forth over a net, running faster, jumping higher, picking up the heaviest thing, etc. You get the point. Not that any of us are doing much better, but you have to wonder at the possible conversations that could occur in the afterlife:
“Welcome to Heaven; What did you do with your life?”
“I hit balls into holes with a stick.”
“What? Your whole life?”
“No, I also… well, maybe I did!”
Snooker players don’t go to Hell tho, since it’s probably full of the rest of us who just watched instead.
