I'm in a heck of a good mood this warm morning, with a nice, heavy shower predicted and a quick jaunt to my doctor's office where I was told all was well. Hey, I'm 71 but I ain't dead yet, I'm still a working professional Shakespearean actor--by 'professional,' dear hearts, I mean I get paid big bucks, which I'll be needing big-time as my youngest of five grandchildren speeds toward college age: it's Yale for him. Well, that's babble. What I want to ask my fellow unbelievers is this: are you feeling, as I am, that the fundies and other fearful, sad religious folk are nearing their last hurrah, their last shouts and stomps? I do. There's something in the "air," if you will, which is telling me that, though Christianity has a couple hundred years left, the rawbone fundamentalists and their cherrypicking of the Bible will be finding the church door padlocked pretty darn soon--in maybe no more than a generation. There's no reason at all for us to feel sorry for them.
2007-06-13
01:23:12
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