I remember vivid details about the morning when I first decided I didn’t want to go to church anymore. I remember that my mother attempted to wake me several times that morning when she was already fully dressed, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, wearing her nurse’s uniform that she had to wear every fourth Sunday because she was on the usher board. She came into my room happy the first time, concerned the second time and downright irritated the third time.
I was 13, maybe 14 when I made this decision. Too old and too big for her to drag out of bed, rake a comb through my hair and tell me what to put on. I simply told her “I ain’t going,” and the look on her face was one that I will never forget: profound disappointment mixed with the kind of worry that only a mother can fix her face to express. I had decided, mostly out of laziness and the sleepiness that hung on from my being up all night, that church was no longer for me.
From my bedroom, I heard her downstairs readying herself and then smelled the perfume she always spritzed on right before leaving. I heard the car engine start and went to the window to see if it could really be true. I had expected more of a fight. But sure enough, I saw her pull out of the driveway, and it was like Christmas break, a snow day and summer vacation all rolled into one.
I was reminded of this day when reading and watching news about this evil Republican tax plan, which leads me to believe that the Republican Party must have absolutely incontrovertible proof that there is no God. I think they’re keeping this information from us—that it’s tucked away somewhere maybe inside Mitch McConnell’s shell, never to see the light of day.
They must know for absolute certain that they can do whatever they want, take whatever they want, hoard whatever they want, and they will not face the lake of fire. This only stands to reason because if they really thought that eternal damnation were on the table, they wouldn’t act the way that they do. They take food out of the mouths of children. The take medicine away from the sick. They take respect away from the elderly, and their fucks are forever withheld. They have none to give. So it only makes sense to me that the God they so earnestly talk about serving is, in reality, smoke and mirrors.
I have often wondered what is so appealing about the allure of lots of money. Don’t get me wrong. I understand the allure of money. But once you have so much of it, what good is it? I don’t understand the point of material objects that are purported to have “value” or make people look like they are somehow more “valuable.” Capitalism breeds this sickness within all of us, and I am not immune. But I still cannot understand the appeal of having all the money.
Maybe it’s because I’ve never really had much of it, and with this administration, I don’t think that will ever be likely to change. This new tax bill is highway robbery for all of us, including all the president’s supporters, who would much rather be white than be human beings. I imagine they’ll find out soon enough.
Every morning I wake up, read the news and feel like Charlton Heston at the end of Soylent Green, shouting warnings in my head that fall on deaf ears. I check Donald Trump’s approval ratings to see if any of his supporters have yet eaten from the tree of knowledge, and they have not. Whiteness must be maintained at all costs, and they plan to force all of us to make blood sacrifices to it.
They must know for a fact that there will be no one there to multiply the fishes and the loaves. They have, hidden somewhere, irrefutable evidence that God does not exist, and they are making their heaven here on earth while making it hell for so many American families. That must be the case. Because in America, you aren’t doing well unless someone else is doing worse, and that’s the only Scripture in which we seem to have any real faith. But I hope we can make it right soon. I hope we can come together and vote the bastards out. I hope Alabama wasn’t just a fluke.
When my mother got home after church that Sunday, I was spread out all over her couch eating her food and watching her TV. She didn’t speak to me at first. She hung up her coat and set about doing things around the house. She came to sit next to me on the couch and told me that so-and-so at church asked about me and was disappointed that I wasn’t there.
She didn’t know at the time that I would never step foot in that church again for over 20 years. But she suspected that I was done with it. And before she got up to leave me to my sloth, she issued a warning. She said, “You better be careful because people who don’t wanna worship God end up thinking they are gods.”
This is how I know that the Republicans must have uncontestable proof that God is a fairy tale, or they wouldn’t do the evil things they do. And make no mistake: We are dealing with evil people. Blue-eyed devils and demons who know for certain that they’ll never have to worry about squeezing themselves through the eye of a needle. Their actions speak their belief that there will never be any consequences for their unbridled greed and self-worship, and someone really should take the time to lift Mitch McConnell’s shell and have a look.