On Tuesday, it was Greenpeace. On Wednesday, it was an art history student who wanted more classes taught on sculpture. But on Friday, these petition carrying scumbags took it to the next, biblical level.
It was an atypically sunny afternoon in Auckland as I sat down in the student commons with my plate of fried rice and sweet & sour chicken. I had some interesting reading material in my hand (my recently returned paper on "Singin' in the Rain," which looked as though it had been graded by a third grader...a third grader who marked me off for not citing and referencing a line from Yeats and for using quotation marks as opposed to italics for titles...needless to say, a totally retarded third grader who's probably going to be held back a year).
So with my notes and chinese in hand, I sat down for what would hopefully be a relaxing lunch hour. That's when Auckland's answer to Lenny and George eyed me and walked over to my bench. Too arcane a reference? Okay, how about Lenny and Squiggy? Fine. Lenny and Carl. Except that Carl was your typical Asian male with low self esteem (but you don't tell him that since he probably knows karate) and Lenny looked like a young Hugh Jackman (which probably should have told me to walk in the other direction).
They asked me if I'd like to take a survey regarding student life. Figuring that my study abroad data would serve as an outlier and screw up their graphs, I obliged.
Max: I've got no problem with surveys, just as long as you don't want to me sign any petitions, donate money or join a cult.
Lenny: Ummm....
(Sidebar: As Creed Bratton has recently pointed out, it's more fun to be a follower in a cult, but the leader makes more money).
So he starts asking me the obligatory Q's and I give the obligatory A's. Name, Major, Year, How much I bench, etc.
Then I look ahead in the survey and see the dreaded question #4 (the question that cares): On a scale of 1 to 10, how highly do you value a personal relationship with God?
Now, many religions have attempted to corrupt me. Two summers ago the Jehovah's Witnesses found me in Hood River, Oregon. When I was walking through the LAX terminal this July, the Branch Dividians wanted to give me some literature. And then there's the ever-present spectre of Scientology.
Yep. I could have easily walked off at this point, but it was the last day of classes and after a lecture on Far From Heaven, I was in need of entertainment. I let Lenny and Carl continue.
Q: How do you picture God?
A: Well, some see him as Barry Gibb sitting on a cloud. But I see God rather as a kind of a Force. It surrounds us, penetrates us, binds the galaxy together. And as evidenced in the difference between the Old and New Testaments, it is clear that God has both a light and a dark side. But we have to make sure that we are in tune with the light side and it stays strong with us.
They just nodded and wrote down the gist. These didn't seem like crazed zealots, so I decided to ease back and take their next couple questions seriously. I told them that I was born and raised Catholic and that my belief probably originally stemmed from my upbringing but became confirmed as I became aware of what I was actually worshipping.
My new Jesus friends admitted that they didn't know much about Catholicism. But were willing to learn. And then they busted out the question that took away what little respect I had for them.
"I know that you're Catholic, but have you ever given any thought to Christianity?"
"But Lenny," I responded, "Catholics are Christians."
I guess that they thought that I worshipped Cathol, the alien savior who, in the year 2098, will transport me in a giant, celestial spaceship to the planet Blisstonia.
Carl wasn't sure about my assertion. "Are you sure? I thought Catholics had a different Lord."
"White guy with long hair, a beard and a 12 man entourage? Same guy, hermano."
"Do you have the same Bible?"
"Don't be silly, I don't have seven wives. Of course I have the same Bible. Everything from 'In the Beginning' to 'The End.'"
Now don't get me wrong, I've dropped out of Sunday School more often than Lindsay Lohan walks out of rehab. But I was still able to put on a clinic that would make St. Peter himself say "Daaaaaamn, playa!" I laid it on the line for them: Virgin Mary, Saints, JP2, Sacraments, the Crusades, Transubstantiation, the Inquisition, Altar Boys, Confession, Bono. Had these guys not been on the warpath, I probably would have converted them my own way.
So before these two could try to make some kind of convincing, 95 theses argument about why I should take religious advice from a former Hitler-youth, I told them that I had class in 5 minutes (I lied) and wished them good luck (I lied again).
And isn't that what the Catholic Church is all about? Evading questions with lies?
Praise Christ.
-MGD
That's what she said of the day:
Re: an underthrown pass in flag football
"Damn, I didn't expect it to be that short."
It was an atypically sunny afternoon in Auckland as I sat down in the student commons with my plate of fried rice and sweet & sour chicken. I had some interesting reading material in my hand (my recently returned paper on "Singin' in the Rain," which looked as though it had been graded by a third grader...a third grader who marked me off for not citing and referencing a line from Yeats and for using quotation marks as opposed to italics for titles...needless to say, a totally retarded third grader who's probably going to be held back a year).
So with my notes and chinese in hand, I sat down for what would hopefully be a relaxing lunch hour. That's when Auckland's answer to Lenny and George eyed me and walked over to my bench. Too arcane a reference? Okay, how about Lenny and Squiggy? Fine. Lenny and Carl. Except that Carl was your typical Asian male with low self esteem (but you don't tell him that since he probably knows karate) and Lenny looked like a young Hugh Jackman (which probably should have told me to walk in the other direction).
They asked me if I'd like to take a survey regarding student life. Figuring that my study abroad data would serve as an outlier and screw up their graphs, I obliged.
Max: I've got no problem with surveys, just as long as you don't want to me sign any petitions, donate money or join a cult.
Lenny: Ummm....
(Sidebar: As Creed Bratton has recently pointed out, it's more fun to be a follower in a cult, but the leader makes more money).
So he starts asking me the obligatory Q's and I give the obligatory A's. Name, Major, Year, How much I bench, etc.
Then I look ahead in the survey and see the dreaded question #4 (the question that cares): On a scale of 1 to 10, how highly do you value a personal relationship with God?
Now, many religions have attempted to corrupt me. Two summers ago the Jehovah's Witnesses found me in Hood River, Oregon. When I was walking through the LAX terminal this July, the Branch Dividians wanted to give me some literature. And then there's the ever-present spectre of Scientology.
Yep. I could have easily walked off at this point, but it was the last day of classes and after a lecture on Far From Heaven, I was in need of entertainment. I let Lenny and Carl continue.
Q: How do you picture God?
A: Well, some see him as Barry Gibb sitting on a cloud. But I see God rather as a kind of a Force. It surrounds us, penetrates us, binds the galaxy together. And as evidenced in the difference between the Old and New Testaments, it is clear that God has both a light and a dark side. But we have to make sure that we are in tune with the light side and it stays strong with us.
They just nodded and wrote down the gist. These didn't seem like crazed zealots, so I decided to ease back and take their next couple questions seriously. I told them that I was born and raised Catholic and that my belief probably originally stemmed from my upbringing but became confirmed as I became aware of what I was actually worshipping.
My new Jesus friends admitted that they didn't know much about Catholicism. But were willing to learn. And then they busted out the question that took away what little respect I had for them.
"I know that you're Catholic, but have you ever given any thought to Christianity?"
"But Lenny," I responded, "Catholics are Christians."
I guess that they thought that I worshipped Cathol, the alien savior who, in the year 2098, will transport me in a giant, celestial spaceship to the planet Blisstonia.
Carl wasn't sure about my assertion. "Are you sure? I thought Catholics had a different Lord."
"White guy with long hair, a beard and a 12 man entourage? Same guy, hermano."
"Do you have the same Bible?"
"Don't be silly, I don't have seven wives. Of course I have the same Bible. Everything from 'In the Beginning' to 'The End.'"
Now don't get me wrong, I've dropped out of Sunday School more often than Lindsay Lohan walks out of rehab. But I was still able to put on a clinic that would make St. Peter himself say "Daaaaaamn, playa!" I laid it on the line for them: Virgin Mary, Saints, JP2, Sacraments, the Crusades, Transubstantiation, the Inquisition, Altar Boys, Confession, Bono. Had these guys not been on the warpath, I probably would have converted them my own way.
So before these two could try to make some kind of convincing, 95 theses argument about why I should take religious advice from a former Hitler-youth, I told them that I had class in 5 minutes (I lied) and wished them good luck (I lied again).
And isn't that what the Catholic Church is all about? Evading questions with lies?
Praise Christ.
-MGD
That's what she said of the day:
Re: an underthrown pass in flag football
"Damn, I didn't expect it to be that short."
Comments