There
is a Monty Python skit that goes something like this:
At
door: Knock, knock.
Woman:
“Who’s there?”
Man:
“Burglar!”
Woman:
“Burglar?”
Man:
“Yes, Madam. I am a burglar. Please let me in so I may nick your valuables.”
Woman:
“I don’t know. You sound like an encyclopedia salesman.”
Man:
“I assure you, Madam. I’ve only come to tie you up and steal your jewelry.”
Woman
(hesitates) “Are you sure you’re not an encyclopedia salesman?”
Man:
“Madam, my only intentions are to rob you, nothing more.”
Woman:
“Well, okay then, as long as you’re not an encyclopedia salesman.”
She
opens door and a man enters.
Man
(looking around): You have a very nice place here. However, no home is truly
complete without a full set of encyclopedias.”
Woman:
“Oh, damn!”
I love that bit!
Hate when it happens in real life.
I bristle when
someone pretends to be one thing and when you invite them in; they turn out to
be something completely different. For example: If you see a man walking down
the street wearing robes, a big metal cross and a hat that looks like someone
split a canoe in half and placed it on his head, you assume that he is either
the pope or some other high level church guy.
If you see a man
wearing a black suit, white shirt and a tiny round hat along with a beard and
curly fry sideburns, you can assume that person is Jewish.
If you see a guy
wearing either a turban, or a pill box hat and carrying a prayer rug, odds are
he’s Muslim.
If two guys come
to your house, well-groomed, wearing a white shirt and tie and carrying copies
of The Watchtower. You can safely assume you are going to hide and pretend you
are not home.
My point is you
can see what they’re selling by their clothes. If we find ourselves in a
conversation, I’m not offended when he goes into his sales pitch. That’s his
job and I knew beforehand by his attire what I was in for. No harm, no foul.
But what really
pisses me off is buying tickets for some entertainment venue and having to
listen to some smug, self-righteous sonavabitch start in on how anyone who
believes in God is an idiot and starts rattling off chapter and verse of the
atheist’s creed.
Bill Maher,
Paula Poundstone and Penn Gillette, I didn’t pay my hard earned money to listen
to twenty minutes of you proselytizing Atheism. Imagine how pissed off you’d be
if you forked over a week’s pay to see the Rolling Stones only to have them
play gospel hymns and other religiously related material.
This is not to
say I have anything against atheists. I do not. I have atheist friends and we
get along just fine. But if as atheists you decide to preach your views to the
masses, at least create some bizarre outfit, so when we see you coming, we can run
like hell.
It’s only fair.
Why? Well although I am a devoutly religious,
none of my friends know it. This is because you don’t convince people of your
religion’s value by running your mouth to every poor soul you have backed into
a conversational corner. You convince them of your religion’s validity by
living a life that people admire and wish to emulate.
And in keeping
with one of my religion’s tenets, ‘Don’t point out another’s shortcomings
without first addressing you own,” I must therefore point out that I am a
hypocrite. I know this because a dear friend of mine, a pagan, routinely visits
the elderly, the sick, runs errands for them, reads to them and spent last
Thanksgiving and Christmas working at a soup kitchen doling out food to the
hungry
Apparently she
is a lot better at my religion than I am. I spend the holidays stuffing my face
and watching football. Maybe I need to rethink my own beliefs.
Therefore should
you see me dressed in glittering robes, wearing a propeller hat, barreling down
the street on a pogo stick, holding up a book and shouting to all who will
listen that I have ‘found the true way!”
Run like hell!
