Irreverence is Underrated, the Pithy Humor of Youth, and Mid-Life Angst

I love this kid’s honesty.

In 100 years, statistics would have it that over 90% of people currently inhabiting the planet will be DEAD!  If one wants to keep citing statistics, the odds are 100% that I will be dead in 100 years.   Taking the Dirt Nap.  Sleeping the big sleep.  Not even the little old dudes in India and Russia have made it to 143.  I don’t think I want to be first for that.

I’m sure that in the near future near-immortality will be possible- technically- but let’s face it, that sort of engineering poses some moral questions.  I am not a big sci-fi fan.  The idea of living on as a disembodied computer program and then being deposited into a manufactured body as presented in the reanimation scenarios on the Science Channel show Through the Wormhole  is downright creepy.

Now if I could engineer the body, that would be intriguing.  If I could be about 6′ tall, weigh about 120, and have the perfect man-bait model bod, I could have some fun.  However, being the sexy vixen would take some upgrading to the motor centers of my brain as well as a full body upgrade.  What’s the point of being man-bait if you fall all over yourself and spill crap on your sexy clothes?  It’s no tragedy to spill coffee all over the clothes I bought at Goodwill or off the Target clearance rack, but to spill coffee all over designer duds, or twist my ankles and break the heels off of high faluting stilettos?  That would suck.

What’s really bad is I thought this was Steven Tyler for a minute.  My bad.

Today’s body-mod technology is scary.  I couldn’t afford cosmetic surgery in my wildest dreams, and even if I had the scratch I’d be loathe to actually do it.  The only plastic surgery that seems to be effective, at least most of the time, is breast enlargement, which I need like a hole in the head.  38Ds are enough for anyone.  Keeping them from moving any further south is my ongoing objective.  The things that are wrong with my appearance aren’t fixable.  Short arms, short legs and bad proportions don’t fix.

I’ve had major surgeries.  It takes a long time to recover.  Knowing my luck I would end up looking even worse than when they first started, or I’d get MRSA or something and die an excruciating and macabre death from it.  I think I’ll reserve surgical intervention for the truly necessary things, until they can do surgery like on Star Trek– where they scan you with a high faluting electronic box and you’re magically healed, with no blood or incisions or anything.

Implanting my brain into a super-body is probably not going to happen.  So you do what you can with what you have.

If all else fails, be glad you can “P” !

I’m surprised this teacher didn’t give the kid a gold star for being able to perform bodily functions, as much as the schools have been dumbed down.  Personally I have to admire his weisenheimer attitude even if the teacher’s dreadfully politically correct response sort of dampens the effect.  “Best self?”  What kind of happy horseshit is that?  Would he be a “better self” if, like Beavis and Butthead, he forgot how to pee?

Then again,

It’s fun to screw with others.

Just in case anyone is curious, I found this an interesting assignment too.

Dear God: I like to be lazy and watch tv and eat food




This kid’s prayer is positively hilarious, which is why I had to pass it along:

I like to be lazy and watch tv and eat food.

Oh, Steve-o… are you sure this lady didn’t get your sermon note by mistake?

This is definitely a Dude Prayer. No female would write a prayer like this, especially one raised by an old school Catholic mother who made you feel guilty for not being thankful for day old tuna casserole served over burnt mashed potatoes with big black flakes in them.  (How many times did I hear,”You should thank God you HAVE food!” and Mom meant it.)  No female I know would have written this prayer, regardless of age, not even a girl raised in a more “Jesus loves me” type Protestant tradition.  

I remember if you were doing an assignment on prayer for CCD- first you would go with the standard rote prayers such as the Our Father and Hail Mary.  Those were Safe Prayers.  If you had to make up your own prayers, you pretty much came up with the obligatory prayers for the conversion of heathens (i.e. Protestants…) and for starving children in Africa.  If you had the gall to write a prayer asking God for a pony, or a prayer asking God to send your sadistic older siblings to Africa with the starving kids, then Sister Mary Refrigerator Perry (and I think she was actually bigger than the football player and a lot more ugly) would call your Mom and you would be dragged to Confession so you could tell Father Whoever Was Hearing Confessions That Day how evil and selfish you were.   

Father Furey was the only priest with a sense of humor.  Everyone wanted to get Father Furey at Confession time.  He would usually laugh and tell you to pray to the Holy Spirit to help you do better. I think if Jesus had been a priest He would have been like Father Furey.  He had a lot of compassion for human frailty, especially kids’.  The other priests weren’t usually as forgiving, and one in particular would go on and on about all the stuff you have to do to cut down your time in purgatory.  (I became a Lutheran in high school, BTW…Martin Luther had a point- 95 of them, to be specific!)

I would never have written out a prayer as an assignment in CCD that would make any insinuation that I might be proud of the fact that I occasionally indulge in any of the Seven Deadly Sins (Pride, Greed, Envy, Anger, Lust, Gluttony and Sloth), let alone both gluttony and sloth.  I did not want Mom to get a phone call from Sister Mary Refrigerator Perry (the director of Religious Education,) for any reason, and I tried to avoid going to Confession any more than the one time a month when Mom made us go.   My childhood prayers mostly consisted of asking God to forgive the sins I couldn’t remember doing so I wouldn’t die and go straight to hell, and asking Him not to send me to hell for wishing my sisters would either run away or drop dead.   I remember when I was reminded to pray, thanking God for puppies and kittens, and thanking Him for those few and far between days when my sisters didn’t have the opportunity to beat the hell out of me.  Hell was quite the ongoing theme in my childhood.  Prayer, and religion in general, to my childhood mind, was all about avoiding hell.

There is so much more to Christianity than avoiding hell.  I appreciate the kid’s honesty though.  Who doesn’t want to watch TV and eat? 

Jesus told the disciples to let the little children come to Him- not to scare them away with hellfire.  I believe there is a literal hell, and Jesus Himself said that apart from Him that’s where I would be headed,  but there is so much more to God and life and relating than simply avoiding hell.  I would rather come to Jesus just like this little boy did- honestly.  I am one of those people who has done a lot of theological questioning over the years.  Mom was none too thrilled when I joined the ranks of the “heathens” (to be fair, Catholics now refer to Protestants as “separated brethren,” which is a little nicer sounding than “heathen”) but I had to be honest with my own heart, my own relationship with God and how He is helping me understand it.  There were too many things specifically in Catholicism that I couldn’t reconcile in my heart and mind to honestly profess to be Roman Catholic.  I’m certainly not the model Christian by any stretch of the imagination, but my upbringing forced me to ask questions- to “seek, knock and ask” because I saw so many apparent contradictions between my very old school Vatican I Catholic mother and my very fundamental old time Baptist grandmother.  I come to find out that neither “side” is completely “right” or completely “wrong.”  They share far more in common than most people realize.  No one “side” has a corner on the truth- and the starting point is that of the little child.  Honesty.  The little child doesn’t get the starving kids in Africa.  I know I did wish a lot of evil on both of my sisters.  I liked eating and watching TV as much as the next person.  The cool part about this is God already knows that, but He wants to love and work through us anyway.  We come to Him as we are and then HE makes us what He created us to be.

Now that’s an honest prayer!