Politics and religion are two arms of the same torso. While one paw squeezes out the last juices of their society, the second, all gilded, bends to the ground, hoping to break the people's neck in a slavish bow.
The doctrine praising the poor, parasites, the weak-minded, as inheriting the kingdom of God, is certainly capable of impressing a rather weak-minded brain. As a rule, religion (no matter which one) is capable of completely and completely filling a human being, if there is enough free space in his cranium. As you know, nature abhors a vacuum.
Slave, slave, you are God's servant, slave: If God is our Father, then why are we his servants? Wouldn't it be more correct to call him "Master"?
Since childhood, I have attended temples. Not that my family was too religious, no. My mother was rather driven by a natural desire to understand what was happening, to relate Faith and Reason, but the poor woman did not do it well.
When she happened to see her tonsured as a nun in one of the cathedrals, her mother fell into a state of horror. Says how many years have passed, and I still cannot forget it, it was the most disgusting and humiliating sight that I have ever seen in my life. The woman was crawling along the floor to the altar. I could not finish watching to the end, feeling a great need to escape from the house of God into the fresh air.
Mom resolved her spiritual aspirations simply: God most likely exists, but what they say about him is wild lies. Our church has created a real scarecrow for idiots and turns it cool in the direction it needs.
But if my mother came into harmony with herself, then I just started my spiritual quest, doing the same - trying to believe and think at the same time. From an inhuman effort just to think it over, to realize what I was being assiduously forced to believe, my brain almost melted and flowed out of my ears.
Looking attentively at people who have finally and irrevocably gone to God in heaven during their lifetime, with those blissfully glassy eyes and smooth, as if worn-out faces, it somehow becomes uncomfortable.
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I have one friend, a young, fairly educated girl. Somehow, completely imperceptibly for me, she drove off towards religion. One episode made me sick. I was visiting her, and the girl undertook to cook scrambled eggs. Of the three eggs, the third turned out to be rotten and this plunged her into such a shock that I thought I would never calm her down. She sobbed, trying to remember what was so terribly sinful that she had managed to commit since the last confession that the Lord was sending her such terrible signs.
The unclean man immediately beguiled me to tell her something like: Maybe it's time to stop doing nonsense, maybe you should find yourself a decent job, start earning? Then there will be no need to buy expired products on cheap optushki, you see, "terrible signs" by themselves and will end?
In response, of course, I heard an angry, but unintelligible rebuke, generously flavored with sacred quotes. There was nothing left but to state with sadness that one unfortunate psycho in the great divine army had grown.
Sometimes I look at the Christian forum JesusCrist.ru where people write requests to pray for them in this or that difficult life situation. Sometimes I write for soap to people desperate in loneliness, or I just give a couple of tips as a psychologist by vocation, when I see that a person, due to the simplest situation in principle, brings himself to a form of brain blackening.
It is good that such a forum exists, sometimes it is already good for a person to just speak out, and if you still have the hope that the Lord regularly enters the Internet to see who has something in their souls, it is absolutely wonderful. However, there are some recordings that make you sad.
I just can't forget a hefty letter from some woman addressed directly to God. First, there were ecstatic screams about her immense love for Jesus, then she thanked for a long time that he loved her just as much, literally: “a disgusting, vile creature,” not worthy of His love. How sad I became, you have no idea. Well, it was necessary to bring oneself to such a state:
How sad it is that history stubbornly cuts circles, returning to the Middle Ages. And again, people are ready to sob with happiness that they have such a wonderful means of getting rid of their brains, like Christianity. The cult of death, generously seasoned with sadomasochism, elevates vagabonds, madmen and bloodsuckers to the rank of saints and makes them pray for them.
If you think about it, it looks like some kind of Supreme Mockery, a bloodthirsty joke. It must be that the Joker realizes that not everyone has such a sophisticated sense of humor, maybe that is why he is afraid to appear and does not name his name.
Maybe it is in his merry interests so that a man, like a pig, cannot raise his head and look up? So that he would trample in himself all his strength, so that he would not even dare to think that he himself is excellently able to cope with his life? What if this endless and senseless religious bloodshed stops then? And what good thing this infection will suddenly remember that Man is, damn it, sounds proudly.
Author: Anais