Proverbs 14, Verse 26
"Reverence for God gives a man deep strength;
his children have a place of refuge and security."
---
CHIPPED WISDOM:
Kermit once complained-- well, maybe it was more of a statement than a complaint-- that, "it's not easy being green". I was going to write that "it's not easy being Jewish, either, pal", but then I got to thinking a little broader, a little bit more outside of myself (not easy to do when you're a self-centered, miserable little git) and I don't particularly think it's easy being anything at all. The world is so cock-heavy with stereotypes and mythology, prejudice, ignorance, violence and hatred, inanity and obscurity, enough fuckedupedness to last a thousand lifetimes that, really, at any given moment-- who can there possibly be who's out there, yucking it up, having a great fucking time?
I mean, except her. Some roid-loving jock's doing Jell-O shots on her right about now.
Everything's fucked up now that there's children here, and I mean that in a good way. Everything I think about God and religion, it's all a hazy horrible blur. Why am I responsible for teaching and guiding, molding and melding? How didn't I know that this was going to happen? That one day, I'd be at Yom Kippur services with my two children, shamelessly mouthing along and futzing my way through Hebrew which might as well be Cantonese. How is it that I will be in charge of a family seder? Did other 33-year-olds a hundred years ago have this wrenching, tortured dilemma of faith and duty?
No, I'm guessing they didn't. People didn't have time to be such narcissistic pussies back then. They were all running around patching holes in their vests and trying not to get killed by influenza and trolley cars.
See? It all goes back to menswear. As soon as guys stopped wearing vests, they had all this extra time on their hands all of a sudden to fixate on their "place in the world" and to write about their insecurities on blogs. This is why I hope the three-piece-suit makes a comeback, in some place other than my own closet.
I remember years ago going on a tour of an Amish village in Lancaster County, and the tour guide was talking about electricity and technology and about how, "The English (that's you, blog-reading asshole) seem to think that technology brings people together. We see it the opposite: we see technology driving people apart. And I see that. I see the impediment it's cleaved between my wife and I, how we both, at times, tune each other out in favor of Pinterest (her) and a "French Connection" text message quote war with a friend (um, me?) and it saddens me, and I don't quite know what to do about it. These are the issues this generation is going to have to cope with as we move forward and as the situation deteriorates.
That smug fucking Amish bitch was right, and I hate her.
The thing is, though, I see the same thing with religion. I think lots of people have this Kumbaya-my-Lord view of faith or religion, that it's "bringing people together" and I think there should at least be a little asterisk there after that phrase.
Bringing people together*
* now, for a limited time only!
* sorta
* but at a cost
* only certain kinds of people
* so they can feel holier than thou
* to want to kill you or at least discriminate against you for believing something different
It drives me further away from people-- people I really want to be with, except for my immediate family, of course-- but friends? Where are they? My mother and father? Off doing their own thing. Spiritual leaders I actually have some sort of connection with and affinity for? No. God? I didn't think about God once while I was in synagogue for Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur. Maybe it's because I was chasing my son of the fucking stairs seven thousand times, or maybe it's just because it's hard to think about something at an appointed day and time of the year in a specific place.
"Be Pious, and..... GO!"
Sorry. I can't fart on command either. And God knows how I try sometimes. And now you know why I never went to law school.
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