So. The pious pompadoured prick we Texans call our governor has made another numskull move. Little Ricky Perry announced Saturday that he was going to cancel a visit to the fire-ravaged areas of Central Texas that have been scorched by wildfires over the last ten days.
These fires have left thousands homeless and have destroyed tens-of-thousands of acres in the process. Much of the habitat for several endangered species of quite unique creatures has been desiccated. Decimated, maybe. Whateverthefuck, these poor creatures’ habitats have been laid to waste by fires.
When I tell you why little Pricky canceled his appearances, you won’t believe me. Some of you will insist on checking the stories to obtain an independent observation. That’s OK by me, you silly shitballs. Go ahead and check if you find me lacking voracity. I don’t give a shit.
The reason Rick Perry canceled his tour to meet with the thousands of people who have been displaced by the wildfires is because he couldn’t get adequate press coverage. That’s right folks, look it up. Our governor decided to stay at home rather than waste his precious time visiting displaced citizens because it was not convenient for the press to cover his little trip.
I guess that since he’s a presidential candidate, his presence requires more media on site than when he was simply our governor. Before he tossed his name into that ring, the Prickster was happy to make an appearance as long as somebody showed up with at least a camera phone. It seems he now requires representation from the entirety of the world’s press corps to warrant his pretty face.
Which reminds me of something. I might have invented a catch phrase or whateveverthe fuck you call those dealies. We were sitting at breakfast this morning as usual on a Monday during football season. Mother is a Dallas Cowboys devotee, bless her martyred little heart, and the rest of us are University of Texas fans. Except for Mother’s, “Oh dear, what’s wrong with my Cowboys?” Monday morning conversation centers on the Longhorns team and the former Texas players in the NFL.
We were discussing the Cincinnati and Cleveland game from yesterday as both teams feature high-profile former Longhorns. Our favorites performed well both in victory and defeat. I was trying to explain to Squirt and Honor the cat what it means to be a fan and how that word—fan—comes from the larger word fanatic. “But isn’t that the same as terroristic?” the miniature dog asked me.
“I guess that would be true in extreme cases,” I told Squirt.
Gram was chewing a mouth full of homemade granola, her cheeks puffing like a chipmonk’s. “Ith layth thim futhin light phwin thisthan futhwaths,” were the words that managed to escape Gram’s lips around the dry cereal.
“You’re right, Gram. It’s just like the right-wing Christians who accuse Islamics of terrorism for the same ideologies as they themselves practice,” I replied. “It’s like an idiocy of faith.”
My mother gave me a stern look before saying, “Mooner Einstein Johnson! You take that back and right… now! How DARE you compare a Christian’s devotion to Christ to those evil heathens devil worship.”
Gram had managed to swallow her granola and cleared her throat loudly. “You lissen here, Mother. Mooner’s right. It don’t matter the juxtaposition, it’s the same melody.”
Oh, I got it. “That’s what I was trying to say Gram. It doesn’t matter what your justification might be. If the net result is that you act like your belief system is the only acceptable one—and if you force it on others—you are a terrorist. You exhibit the idiocy of faith.”
Faith is a wonderful and scary emotion. The same faith that drove Mother Theresa to devote her life to the underprivileged fueled the Inquisition. One definition of the word faith is, “The strong belief in a God or a doctrine of a religion based upon spiritual apprehension rather than fact.”
Since apprehension is, “A fearful anticipation of the future,” then faith is, effectively, a fear-based emotion. What that means is that faith is a two-edged sword. When a person becomes consumed with the ideologies of their faith, fear of non-believers can become hatred. And hatred breeds violence and threatening behavior.
Threats and violence? That is what defines terror. My point with all of this is that faith, just like love, can make you an idiot. Right now I think the world is suffering from the idiocy of faith.
Ugh. I need a Carta Blanca beer. Manana, y’all.