You know the story: you’re minding your own business when the doorbell rings and a stranger proposes that you buy a bible, or purchase some candy for charity. Many years ago, when I was a graduate student at Chapel Hill, a representative from the Jehovah’s Witnesses knocked on my door. I was recovering from an ophthalmic procedure and was wearing dark wrap around sunglasses and all the window shades were drawn. I opened my door only slightly, peered out from the interior darkness, all bearded and blind looking, and told the JW I had a “private and terrible God” and he should beat it. And he ran down the stairs.
The anecdote displays me as clever and mischievous but it doesn’t say a thing about my beliefs. Most Americans tend to avoid talking about belief unless they’re trying to sell you something or, yes, rob you. I call this avoidance of religion the Las Vegas Effect, since the majority of people in the US love the prospect of easy money, glamour, and anonymity more than anything, especially the people who make their desperate living by means of the Christian Industrial Complex. Viva Las Vegas.
Most Americans prefer Las Vegas to church. And then, along comes Elmer Gantry:
“The Maker of the universe with stars a hundred thousand light-years apart was interested, furious, and very personal about it if a small boy played baseball on Sunday afternoon.”
What I’m suggesting is that Americans will always go to Vegas, then give their left over guilty cash to their industrial churches.
Posted with Blogsy
Planet of the Blind 