I’d like to turn the comments section over to y’all who may have gotten lost in the deluge of FB and Twitter posts last night, or those who want to have a little more real estate to express how you think the debate went last night.
I shall mostly remain from saying anything, because you know what I think: that Obama should have yelled “GOODNIGHT CLEVELAND” and dropped the mike on the floor. But there’s one thing I need to get off my tits…
Mitt Romney, I speak for a growing number of agnostics and atheists when I say: fuck you and your invocation of God in a debate on governmental policy. I walked that walk; to quote Suicidal Tendencies, “I went to YOUR schools, I went to YOUR churches, I went to YOUR institutional learning facilities-”
You looked around the room and said we were all “children of God”. Let’s get this straight right now: I am a child of these two folks:
who, in turn, are children of these four folks:
who were previously children of these nice ladies and gents:
who had been children of some of the following:
It’s not that I don’t care you went on a mission for your church; it’s that it should be irrelevant and bringing it up is creepy. Not everybody knows what you truly believe, Mitt, but I know more than most. And that’s fine when it’s my beloved aunts, uncles and cousins, but it’s not fine when you’re carrying the nuclear football.
Calling us children of your God is the ultimate in patriarchy, hegemony, and rude presumption. Sure, it’s probably offensive to all the other religions in America, but I don’t really care about them either. I just care about keeping faith, magical stories, dark fantasies and 4,000-year-old boogeymen OUT OF MY GOVERNMENT.
Atheists are like feminists: there’s something about our demeanor that guarantees erection loss and a night of dreary conversation. Hell, I’m both – how the hell do I have any friends left? When I walk into the room, why don’t my peers roll their eyes and groan “oh no, here we go again”?
Because there is a way to believe in magic, to have your arms wide open to accept the mysteries of the universe, to revel in the unending effervescence of existence without going to motherfucking church. I know that seems impossible for you to believe; such is the overwhelming liquor of faith.
You’re convinced that we would all LOVE YOUR FAVORITE BAND if only we would listen. You’ll never accept that many of us did listen, for a long time, and we just can’t stand that song anymore.