I was watching Religulous the other day when the doorbell rang heralding the arrival of my good friends the Mormons. I carefully kept out of site hoping that these suited minions of pseudo-Scientology would give up and take their gold-tablet loving asses back to the stake house and leave me the fuck alone! Little did I know that my wonderful little daughter had slipped away from me and had run to answer the door. Before I could catch her I was standing face to face with ‘The Lords faithful’ greeting them and trying to figure out an escape plan.
You see, my wife and I had been baptized Mormons many years ago in an effort to figure out how to allay the doubts that we had regarding religion and faith. We had grown wary of the various sects of Christianity due to the logical conclusion that none of them had a viable interpretation of the faith and were just winging it. Both of us were, by that time, really non-believers in the making and did not know how to take that next step toward complete mental freedom. Even now my wife is still to uncomfortable psychologically to say that she is an atheist but I know that she does not believe in a deity of any sort. From here I continue my uncomfortable encounter.
The two Mormons identified themselves as our family’s home teachers and expressed wished to reclaim us from the ranks of inactivity. I replied that we had distanced ourselves from the church and had no desire to continue our association with LDS and thanked them profusely for their time and efforts. They, in turn, gave me a couple of stern looks of disbelief and continued to press on in the soul-saving effort to reclaim us from the Devil’s clutches. Now one does not know the tenacity of a Mormon who has had his corn flakes pissed in, but I’ll tell you, these folks can shit a few bricks on command when properly challenged and I could see the shit eeking out of their Haggars as they stood there! They then began a series of questions designed to extricate the reasons for our reluctance to enter into The Celestial Kingdom. I told them that I had shitted in my magical underwear and had been forced to throw it away, further damning me to an eternal fiery death with a side of pestilence. No, I didn’t tell them that, it just popped into my head, but I sure as Hell thought it!
Actually I told them that we would not be needing their services and that I had become an atheist in a strong, like fucking Superman rending steel with his bare hands strong type of way, and that the chance of us coming back into the fold was absolutely none. The guys continued to eye us as if Satan were behind the door holding a gun to our heads or possibly aliens had inserted their shit radar into our anuses and around our brain stems. Taking ‘no’ for an answer really hadn’t crossed their minds and certainly didn’t appear in Joe Smith’s book on how to reclaim fucked up followers, but I was firm and kept trying to focus these clowns on the inevitable. They were going to leave with a few names crossed off of the church roster and that was that! I imagined pulling out my trusty bottle of Anti-Christ and hosing ’em down until they dissolved like a donut in Brundlefly’s vomit but stuck to gently closing the door and thanking them for wasting my atheist documentary time.
I returned to the couch feeling a little sad for them because they so blindly and strongly follow their faith, but I have to take a stand somewhere in the scheme of personal belief and throw down the spear. Now when the JW’s show up again, I’m whippin’ out the Anti-Christ and goin’ to town! Woot! Woot! On go the black robes and the goat’s head and out come the rubber penises baby!! PEACE!