Wednesday, July 9, 2008

The Stupidest Christian Statement on Record.

"If you don't believe in God and salvation, what do you have to live for? Why don't you just kill yourself now?"

This is what passes for intellect and reason among the theistically impaired. It’s a favored Fundie Christian retort when they find themselves angered by their unsuccessful attempts to recruit heathens, or when frustrated by their ineffective defense of their childlike fable against the onslaught of logic and science. One can almost see their faces contorted in anger, their spittle forming foamy masses in the corner of their mouths.

Where is the logic behind that bizarre statement? I mean, why would anyone who savors this short life as the only life one has want to kill himself?

What I have to live for is "life" itself! AKA: the love of my wife and family, the camaraderie of my friends, my dogs, my favorite hobbies, reading, eating good food in copious amounts, parties, celebrating births, mourning deaths, participating in community service, warm days in the sun, cool evenings around the fire, trips to Home Depot, an occasional Whopper from Burger King, life’s daily trials / tribulations / challenges etc., etc., etc. All of it is what contributes to making life enjoyable, meaningful and worth living for as long as is comfortable and reasonably possible.

No. The appropriate logic is quite the reverse of fundie Christian illogic:

Since Christians see this life as only a brief training ground for their eternity in Candy Land, imagining themselves as smiling zombies, groveling on their knees, performing Dog knows what acts of servitude and humiliation upon their imaginary Slave Master Super Being, aren’t THEY the ones who would benefit by hurrying the termination of their evidently burdensome, and less than satisfactory life? Why would they stick around in this imperfect material world when there is something better than this life awaiting them when they croak?

I for one encourage them to seek their reward, sooner rather than later.

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