Thou Shalt Bark Up The Wrong Tree

I am Googling this morning, nearly this afternoon now, Googling “mower belching white smoke.” Because my mower was belching white smoke. Probably because I over-oiled it.

However, the problem presented itself at exactly the right time. As I was stuffing my lawn mower full of oil, apparently ill-advisedly, I noticed some well-dressed people walking through my neighborhood knocking on doors. I girded. I knew what was coming.

Just as they began to descend on my house, I was in the side yard starting my mowing, and it was just then that the mower came across the indigestion-causing excess of oil and belched plumes of white smoke, which wafted directly into the half-dozen or so people in their Sunday best. One of them coughed.

“Hi, sir,” said an older, short white guy dressed in a snazzy monkey suit. “Having some trouble there? Heh-heh.”

“Nope! No problem.” I shot back. “In fact, I’m kind of excited. My lawnmower just elected a new Pope!”

He laughed politely, sort of. Then: “Is there anyone else at the house?”

“No, just me.” What, I look like the garden boy? Or perhaps he was lookin’ for the Lady of the House?

“My name’s Assclown*, and I’m with Jehovah’s Witnesses,” he said. “May we have a few moments of your time to share the Bible with you today?”

“No, thanks.”

“Are you sure? We just want to share the—”

“Sir, do you see the sign in my yard?” I asked. “The green one? The one that says ‘Impeach Him?'”

“Yes,” he said.

“Do you simply assume I mean that sign to refer to the President of the Untied States?”

He sighed and knew he was going to get nowhere because I was about to suggest that I would like to impeach Jesus H. Christ for high crimes and misdemeanors. (Which is not actually accurate. I actually think that Jesus had a lot of wonderful things to say but that American Christianity® eschews the turn-the-other-cheek crap and prefers the kung-fu-grip-Jesus honed and harnessed by the BNAL (Bush Nation At-Large).) He asked if he could leave some materials for me to review later, and I offered him another terse “no thanks” and a “have a nice day” and went back to killing the environment with my lawn mower.

I do not for the life of me understand or value the mindset that perceives that all that guy mowing his ass off on the sabbath needs is a little Bible reading from Witness Assclown and that’ll turn him around and put him on the Jesus train for good. I am a Bright, born and reared and confirmed in adulthood. I have reached this location not by negligence or sloth, but by considered, sometimes tortured study, thought, and work. I’ve read much of the Bible. I’ve been to church, many different flavors of churches, from Uni-Uni to Catholic to Christian Scientist to Jewish temple. Heck. I’ve even cast a circle or two (in fact, I think some of the present-day pagans, the Earth and Moon worshippers, are closer to truth than anyone). It offends me that this assclown thinks that his reading of Job or Leviticus or whatever is going to make me turn my back on the way I’ve come to understand and to believe in the universe in all of my 39 years.

Besides. Of all the practitioners of American Christianity®, these folks might be the mostest fullest of the mostest shit ever. One of its founders predicted the return of Jesus Christ to Earth in 1873. When that didn’t happen, he said, well, 1874, maybe. When that didn’t happen, he declared that an invisible Jesus had actually reascended (or descended, I’m not sure which) to Earth. So, guess what. The Witnesses. They believe in “Sneaky Jesus.”

And, yes, some of the conversation I’ve shared here occurred in my head afterward and not really actually. I wish.

*Name changed to protect the assclown.

2 thoughts on “Thou Shalt Bark Up The Wrong Tree”

  1. Yup, they irritate me too. I’ve discovered that the phrase that works the best(to get them the fuck off my porch) is “I’m not interested, but thank you very much and have a nice day.” They don’t get riled and neither do I.

  2. This is a very special post. I lost it ( and I’m in a public library) upon learning that the lawn mower had “elected a new Pope.”

    I can’t type that sentence without chuckling fiercely.

    Oy I may even have to list you somewhere on my blog!

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