<

I told the priest - don’t count on Any second coming. God got his ass kicked the first time he Came down here slumming He had the balls to come, the gall to die And then forgive us - No, I don’t wonder why I wonder what he thought It would get us - hey hey, good try

At which point I set fire to my iPod, found the nearest Pentecostal church (for it is the church of my people), barricaded myself in the basement, hoped real hard that said basement was lightening-proof, then started scouring the Yellow Pages for a church that's a little less loose n' free than the Pentecostals, preferrably one that employs the use of serpents. Because dude, that shuffle freaked my shit out a smidge.

Seriously, as I've said before, I don't subscribe to any one set of religious beliefs. I believe there's probably a lot of truth in all of them. I believe in renewal and redemption. I believe God comes to people in the way that's going to be easiest for them to grasp. Dogma and rules don't have much appeal to me. If that's what works for you, I'm cool with that. Either way, the shuffle made me think about what today was, and what it means to so many people. It gave me a shiver, much like the sight of cloak-draped crosses in all the churchyards.

It also made me realize that the handful of Christians who claim that our society shuts out their beliefs, might not be paying close enough attention. This shuffle - filled with devil's music, no less - is brimming with Biblical references. Using such references as starting points for theological discussions, and how we're more alike than different, might be more productive than bemoaning slights that aren't really there.

Anyway ...

We're in my hometown. Stopped in my old town of Columbia for lunch at my all-time favorite pizza joint in the world, Shakespeares, located across the street from the beautiful campus of the University of Missouri. It was Clara Jane's first visit to Shakes, minus the one time she was there in utero, and she was impressed. She devoured a pile of greasy pepperoni, downed a pitcher of Miller High Life, then slept through her geology final.

I've made the acquaintence of the new baby horse, Cash. It was, bar none, one of the most horrific experiences of my life. Any warm-fuzzy feelings I was having towards God vanished upon seeing this three-week-old beast gnawing with his teeth on his father's penis. Cash was chewing it like it was a piece of Doublemint and he was trying to mask the stench of cheap bourbon before the cop got to the car. How can a good and just god allow such a thing to happen? This is why I live in the city, People. You don't see that shit in urban areas. Not unless you pay for it, anyway. Seeing mammalia noshing genitalia puts too much strain on my faith, and frankly, I just don't need that.

I would like to note that, although to any passersby, it probably looked like I was standing there while this trasnpired, doubled-over laughing, screaming, "Oh my God! You have the video camera! Turn it on! Turn it on!!!" at my mother. That wasn't me. And if it was me, that's most certainly not what I was doing. You misheard.