Here’s an illustration that I took from an instruction manual:
Now I will purge the contents of my Twittering Machine.
- If you walk near a certain tree in this forest, a fiend will jump out and hug you.
- I wonder if prayers are like nerve signals that bring pain until God answers them, or if they’re more like e-mails that God simply deletes unread.
- Whenever I send you an “X” with two exclamation points, it means that I’m panting like a dog in anticipation of your company.
- In order to stand out from the crowd nowadays, I hire a waiter to follow me around with a corded rotary phone.
- He believes in his deity for the same psychological reason that he abandoned his children: it’s scary to know you’re in charge.
- I must try to remember that this world contains not only fields of wheat but also many a creature’s glistening viscera.
- GOOSE: “Why are you so cute?”
BEAR: “I hate the world, so I give it cuteness; for God so loved the world that he gave it torment.”
- Not enough nerves. Too many nerves. The trick is to have the right amount of nerves.
- Why are humans different than horses, I wonder.
- I believe that someone is enjoying life somewhere; and I do not believe that vodka lacks nutritional value.
- She sure peed a lot last night.
Now I’ll share a speech given by Job, from the book that bears his name in the Authorized Version of the Bible (3:3-23). Although I love healthy existence as much as anyone, I relish Job’s anti-life sentiment here, his praise of death and stillbirth (divinely assisted abortion); because it is phrased with such forceful passion and eloquence. Plus I find Job’s take on death – total nonexistence – more persuasive and even more comforting than St. Paul’s hints about the afterlife. This is one of my favorite biblical passages:
Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night in which it was said, “There is a man child conceived.” Let that day be darkness; let not God regard it from above, neither let the light shine upon it. Let darkness and the shadow of death stain it; let a cloud dwell upon it; let the blackness of the day terrify it.
As for that night, let darkness seize upon it; let it not be joined unto the days of the year, let it not come into the number of the months. Lo, let that night be solitary, let no joyful voice come therein. Let them curse it that curse the day, who are ready to raise up their mourning. Let the stars of the twilight thereof be dark; let it look for light, but have none; neither let it see the dawning of the day: Because it shut not up the doors of my mother’s womb, nor hid sorrow from mine eyes.
Why died I not from the womb? Why did I not give up the ghost when I came out of the belly? Why did the knees prevent me? Or why the breasts that I should suck?
For now I should have lain still and been quiet, I should have slept: then had I been at rest, with kings and counsellors of the earth, which built desolate places for themselves; or with princes that had gold, who filled their houses with silver; or as an hidden untimely birth I had not been; as infants which never saw light.
There the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary be at rest. There the prisoners rest together; they hear not the voice of the oppressor. The small and great are there; and the servant is free from his master.
Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul; which long for death, but it cometh not; and dig for it more than for hid treasures; which rejoice exceedingly, and are glad, when they can find the grave?
Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?