Once in a while there emerges an idea so radiant, so silky, so bursting with nourishing emollients and nutraceuticals, that the staff at Spinster HQ can but put down their string cheese, gaze up from their microscopes, and raise a prickly-pear margarita to its genius.
Today I allude to this, one man’s response to the announcement by some apocalypse-predicting old godbag that the world is gonna end on Saturday:
An atheist and entrepreneur from North Hampshire, Bart Centre, is enjoying a boost in business for Eternal Earth-bound Pets, which he set up to look after the pets of those who believe they will be raptured. [cite]
I mean God, the actual fictional deity. A real prince of a guy. He hates homos, women, Arabs, and communists; he loves blastocysts, white folks, America, and pedophile priests. He gives AIDS to babies and turns a blind eye to genocide in Sudan. Hell, he even gave me breast cancer! So it’s just like him to suction up 200 million pious animal caregivers through his giant Heaven Vacuum Tube and leave all those innocent dogs and hamsters and parakeets to starve to death or — the more likely scenario — get eaten alive by all the marauding infidel zombies God will have left behind to rot in squalor and pestilence. After Darfur, a thing like that would be pie to a guy like him.
Often I scratch the spinster noggin with a puzzled finger, unable to quite fathom why anybody would care to worship a fictional depraved shitbag like that God guy, but then I remember that fictional depraved shitbags are often charismatic, and that the godly, who have been lied to all their lives, can’t help being gullible.