Thursday, September 07, 2006
New Beginning 104
When I saw that both the Family of Odin HighFather and the Blood Sisters of Boadicca would be canvassing my neighborhood the following Thursday, I realized that it was high time to take a vacation. There's something about a religious turf war that can ruin your week.
Not that I could complain really. That was the price of living here: the rent was cheap, sure, but not only was every fringe belief able to live and practice there free from persecution, they were also welcome to recruit their neighbors. After three years of living here, I'm not sure what bothers me more. True, the Hare Nixons down the street were kind of creepy and it's hard to get used to the incessant chanting. But compared with the pamphleteering and low level gang violence outside, I'd just as soon deal with someone's pet spread out in a blood eagle than listen to yet another impassioned sermon about the One True Faith out of (as of the last census) Two Hundred Fourteen Thousand Nine Hundred and Five Probable Faiths.
Or maybe that's just me.
Anyway, what with my hourly confessions for free communion wine at the Church of Occam, and meditating in the sacred smoke from the Cult of Eternal Whoa's bale-fire, I forgot to leave town Wednesday. The Family of Odin showed up with their axes gleaming, just as the Blood Sisters of Boadicca were down the hall with their gut-buckets. Between the two, I was sure to be converted by noon, either to a religion or to recruiting-juice.
I stood in my doorway wishing I had a god to call on to get me out of this mess, listening to a rat gnawing in the wall behind me. And salvation came.
I turned, bowed to the wall, and intoned loudly, "O small-but-mighty god who saves me from blacklung by eating the asbestos insulation that surrounds me, keep me strong against the blows of axes and the draining of blood, that I might lean on your strength forever."
That got their attention. "Lean on a wall?" said an Odin-HighFather. "No swinging axes?"
"No bleedin' folks dry?" asked a woad-painted Blood sister. "Just lean? I could do that."
By nightfall, the hall was so full I couldn't get out to make my false confession. And my throat was so dry from all the intoning, I decided that next Thursday, I was going to start a cult in which people brought me kegs.
Continuation: J.E. Barnard
Posted by Evil Editor at 9:16 AM