A Rant: the other side of religious persecution

Occasionally I will read or hear a zealot protest the persecution of his religious zeal

Christmas is under attack as rights are huddled over to corners of the commercial playpen

Where only certain displays of the full-haired newborn infant baby Jesus with clothed genitalia can show his Anglican Bethlehem-born locks under a cosmological celestial body

The statues of Arabian advisors, Hebrew shepherds and European angels collect like trophies

To soak in the donkey feces and straw-bedding awaiting the fresh menstrual blood

Of the tightest dilation in the history of pregnancy wound a burgeoning world’s circumference

For a husband to see his wife’s bushy sixteen year vagina for the first time

Schooled up to no electric light, but the illumination of stars kept the sheep at bay

Flush with gold paid for like a peep show, burning away the scent of dung

Bounty after bounty pledged by a jolly red velvet suited flying belly in a sleigh

Sporting levitating ruminant mammals foreign to camels and their double-eyelids

Sand for snow and the globe is an ark spilling bribers changing money in stockings

In temples of pagan-ousting evergreen tree baubles hooked and glistening

As if snowflakes were truly original or by the time the water fell from the sky

It was no longer water by simply shifting molecular configuration

White horses levitating to waft past the reindeer and ascending martyrs

In version three point oh my is it time to launch mortars again from the stars

In the East commanding us to contemplate the man of the mountain coming

Back to us as a child and a elephantine slumlord holding rank over holy tooth shrines

See the tapestry stitched in fear tearing our lands into perdition

There is no us and them, there is only us; there is no God, there is only us

One collective bent on asserting the food our parents were fed is good to eat

Knowing the only way to feed ourselves is to reject our genetic donors and have a family

Transition into accepting terms with mortality, morality, the universe and love on a paradigm

Beyond the plate provided and see learning is boundless as time set out like a platter of thought

Indulging one’s temporal nature in what we are rather than limited by what we tell ourselves we are not, no longer defined by our antonym we can be infinity in the absence of blasphemous

Recognition that we are merely energy converted into higher functioning beings capable of kindness not, mandated to kindness, but we achieve in kindness the pinnacle as an end in itself

True the despair of the inverse, not for the approval of an external entity but to that which we each are an inseparable combination of collected energy comingled onto a platform of space time interacting for but a blip to make an impression and then disperse not into nothingness, but to rest oblivious until this universe collapses and expands out in a bang billions of our understanding of years from the ceasing of universe as we have done before.

So too universes go on co-currently segregated from us by only space time during our preparation, contemplation and reformation countless iterations birth, grow, and die in symmetrical manner around and through what we are.  We are as a flower though seasons.

This is not God, but the scientific boundless always was universe of un-beginning and un-ending of space time beautiful in its lack of thirst or hunger for such immature notions as justice.  We show our youth in such quests for picking the right horse at the track, dancing the correct choreography, or starving our bodies in sacrificial avarice.

Buffoonery to see one sect, any sect as applying pertinent discretion to confuse preference and favor for the simplicity of kindness, for in applying law to what we inherently are severs the bond of our mutuality and interconnection on levels most foul. 

We begin to actually worship our created differences in the name of our similarity.  We are hypocrites of ignorance seeking kindness imprinting it in those we see in a theological industrious brand name rather than a concept; in this we truncate our breaths and shorten our gaze.

I have never been more afraid to admit a characteristic about myself more than my atheism.  I feel the fear of the world of a blasphemer confronting the rational questioning human beating in the believer’s chest crying to get out and the fundamentalism of the world beating the human in the other’s heart down as words and sentiments plummet out of their mouths and minds to condemn me and my like for expressing the repressed bubble unable to surface inside their own.  

I sense fear of Christian people wanting to kill me.  I sense the Supreme Leader of Iran picking over the allowed candidates to participate in democratic elections.  I see the repetitions of the name of God in United States presidential speeches.  I see the fear of being thought a non-Christian and even so a Mormon and Kolob become Christian when convenient.

I see the slow tread of war intermixed with the assertion of clothing.  I see nudists berating other nudists for wearing improper head scarves.  I see time held frozen two-thousand years ago when the idea of faith held up as divinity, never examining what the faith is in, but a story.  Call Thor ridiculous, but the vagina and the blood, the rollaway stone and the white horse solemn.

Kindness is quoted as being taught from scripts; as if this was a corporation patenting exclusivity on salvation, peace, or goodness.  Are these not innate to what we are rather than what plot of Earth our ancestors settled and our fore-breeders fornicated us into existence by betrothal or bastard-hood?

So in we are fixated on this notion of being correct, of finding repercussion for good and evil, right or wrong, that the shaft shall be separated from the wheat and burned.  We hunger in our immaturity for such vengeance so we invent a notion of such to exist never realizing we burned the entire field to spread its credibility. 

So in we have traded fears, we hide our minds from knowing what the other could do to us at any moment with volition behind a mythical settlement swallowing natural loneliness by connecting to an imaginary friend inside our minds meanwhile sacrificing what we could have with the greater world by the bonds we sever to install the parameters of our synthetic assurance.

I do not fear the atheists of the world.  I fear the fundamentalists.  I think most people do.  In this unspoken realization a small part of so many feels the bubble of ration rising.  If only we would all let it rise, accept morality as a personal responsibility, not mandated, but chosen.