Sunday, January 30, 2011

Part 4: The Gospel of Mariodon.

Part 4: The disappointing conclusion

A little after my brother decided to climb the faggotree, I met my wife.

My best friend called me one night and convinced me to come over to his house for an impromptu party. He told me that he met a chick at work and I HAD to come over and meet this bitch, otherwise my life would be ruined. I was exhausted from classes all day and night but agreed to go.

I showed up and met the future mrsraptorjesus (MRJ for short) for the first time. Being the hopeless romantic that I am, the first thing I noticed about her was her huge tits. (Later in a Sunday School class I was asked, "Raptorjesus what was the first thing that attracted you to your wife?" I responded, "uuuuuuuuuuuuhhh....her sense of humor?" While the wife was giggling.)

MRJ and I hit it off immediately. We had a great evening together even though I left early because it had been a long day, and I had to do classes all day and night over again the following morning. We solidified a real first date.

The first date went incredibly well, and I tried my hardest to get a second date from her. She agreed, and we had roughly a date a night for the next week. After six dates, I told her that I loved her even though it made me scared to say that. We had only known each other for slightly over a week, but I felt the sweet spirit massaging both my heart and loins ever so tenderly. She felt the same way, both in heart and loins.

We spent the next couple of months learning everything we could about each other as quickly as we could because we were headed towards marriage. Dating was fun, but we discussed everything from kids to careers to money to sex. We had both seen friends and acquaintances jump into marriage without knowing each other, and even though our marriage was to be incredibly fast, we would at least know each other in the mental sense before we knew each other in the biblical sense.

The wedding was a blur of pictures, horror, and joy. Satan, the cocksmith, was up to his shenanigans again and caused us both to be late to our own weddings by creating a terrible accident on the freeway. When we got to the temple, we were greeted with really rude, unfunny jokes about, "golly jilickers, which one of y'alls forgot yer temple recommend to be so late?" MRJ cried in the dressing room, while I tried not to roundhouse kick some people in the face--in the "House of the Lord."

From the beginning, MRJ was completely fine with my brother and his HO MO Sexuality (that's always how the G.A's say it. Like it's so egregious before god that it needs to be three words.). She was very supportive of him and persuaded me to simply observe and keep an open mind.

My wife and I fluctuated between activity in the church and inactivity in the church. It took about the third wave of inactivity for us to actually recognize a very clear pattern however. We were much happier not going to church. Church sucked. And we really tried to make it work. We kept our temple recommends active, we had callings, we did our home-teaching and shit, but church just made us angry. Angry and bored. We’d either come home pissed off at some ridiculous bullshit that we had to put up with, or just soul crushingly bored. Church wasn’t spiritual, it wasn’t uplifting, and the only thing it “added to my daily life” was more work that was also unfulfilling.

As mentioned in the previous installment, my mind changed over time with my brother. I did keep an open relationship with him, and over time I just realized that I was completely wrong about the entire issue. Sexuality was not a choice, was definitely not an "abomination," and was not some "problem" to be solved. Sexual orientation is just an orientation. I had been taught wrong by the church my entire upbringing, and my views on it were wrong. I was wrong. The church was wrong.
And with my brother’s gaiety, I finally had a revelation.
The church was wrong about gays.
The church was wrong about blacks.
The church was wrong about women.
The church was wrong about the “spirit.”
The church was wrong about history.
The church was wrong about scriptures.
Wait, maybe it wasn’t about the church being “wrong about shit” so much as the church is just wrong….

GODDAMNIT! Why didn’t I see this before? Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

I really couldn’t be too hard on myself though. I still really wanted godhood. (I still do.) But these asshats were in no position to offer it, not to mention what this leadership would do with it if they actually got it. Joseph Smith and Brigham Young set it up as a “doctrine” to eternally hump bitches and order people around—delighting in killing those that disobeyed them. Did they ever worship the god of the old testament…or the Greek gods? What a punch to the crotch to be raised in that kind of a universe.

“Who’s your god?”

“Oh, Brigham Young the Almighty.”

“Oh yeah, what does he do?”

“Well, my wife was pretty hot so he came down and raped her. Now I’m fathering this universe’s messiah, and let me tell you is he one bossy little douche. But don’t tell anyone that I said this or god will make me dig my own grave, slit my throat, and let the blood pour into the grave before my corpse falls in to “atone” for speaking “ill” of him.”

“That sucks. Any love, or whatnot? Can you appease him some way?”

“Yeah, dressing like an Indian and murdering unbelievers. Or you can castrate young men who attract the attention of hot chicks god wants to fuck instead. Oh, and you can stone interracial couples. Boy does our god hate black people. Curious as to why he made them in the first place. But I guess god has to hate someone.

Who’s your god?”


“Dammit. That’s awesome.”


My wife and I renewed our temple recommends one last time in order to attend some family weddings. I lied on just about every single one of the recommend questions, and was even complimented on the “spirit” I had brought into the interview. Haha. I had become an atheist and they couldn’t tell.

When the cracks started forming in my testimony that the church was true and that Joseph Smith was a prophet of god and no way wrote the boring Book of Mormon himself by stealing ideas from people around him and conspiring with failed pastors. That Jesus was the motherfucking Christ, and shouldn't be mocked by hack writers because Jesus was going to come down and make everyone kneel before him like General Zod---or like every gay porn that I've laughed at before clicking on the lesbian links. (I'm a straight man. I don't make the rules, I just follow them.)

Anyway, when the cognitive dissonance was palatable enough to give an elephant diarrhea, I took to studying again. I read about the scriptures. How the Bible came about. Mormon History, and the odd similarities to the Book of Mormon to the other ideas of the Indians at the time.

I also was reading a lot about evolution because there was a good possibility that I would be teaching biology at some point, and I only had a very basic understanding. Evolution was like a great simile that I'm too lazy to come up with at this time. But it rocked my socks off. I was reading it the same time that I was reading deeper stuff about Cosmology and Astrophysics. The natural world was far more interesting than the "doctrine" of any religion. While I still appreciated the mythology, it was just that. Mythology.

Science was about reality. Sometimes it's nice to pretend, but that's all religion had. Pretend time. Dress up for adults, imaginary friends, arbitrary rules to hold onto control of other people, and secret clubs.

And this was more than Mormonism, it was every single religion fell into the same boat. Every organized religion made checks that their asses couldn't cash. Specific claims that had zero evidence in reality.

So, I just stopped believing. Maybe there still is a god, but I doubt it. No evidence positive for it, and people seem to only want you to believe in one just so that you will do what they tell you.

No thanks. I've had enough of that. Until god decides it's important enough to shoe me who it is, then it either doesn't exist, or it doesn't give a SHIT that I believe in it.

Apparently that might make me "arrogant." Or filled with hate. But I'm not filled with hate. I might not go gay for Jesus, but I would totally go gay for Batman, or Superman, or Wolverine, or Deadpool.

Did you ever think about that Jesus freaks? Huh? I didn't think so.

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