Blind Faith

I was looking down at my engagement ring the other day, and I had a strange thought: "How do I know that the diamond is real?" I mean, it looks really sparkly and all, but I am not a gemologist. I have seen quite a few diamonds, but I don't really know if they are real either.

It is not like in ninth grade science class, we were shown diamonds next to cubit zirconiums, and then had to figure out which was which. We did not learn that sort of thing in my high school. Of course, in high school, we dissected frogs, and if someone gave me a scalpel and a frog, I could not identify the frog's spleen from his gall bladder. And I could do that in high school. Okay, I really couldn't do it – biology was not my strong suit. But still, I can't identify (or grade) diamonds.

But I have a diamond on my finger, and I assume it is real. I believe this . . . on blind faith. And I really hope my husband bought me a real diamond. He was dirt poor at the time, and I know the ring cost more than two month's salary. Thanks De Beers diamonds, for all of your marketing.

Another thing.

When we bought our house, I signed a bunch of paperwork. And I read most of the paperwork – nearly all of it. But by the end of the closing, I did not know what I was signing. I can imagine, ten minutes after closing, that if zombies were to be coming out of the ground like daisies, we would have no recourse because I signed the "I take full responsibility for zombies" clause.

Every year . . . at least thirty people in Georgia purchase homes. Okay, pre-September thousands of people were closing monthly. But now . . . oh, where was I? The point is that a lot of people close on houses, and unless you are a real estate attorney, you probably don't know the ramifications for signing all of the documents. You sign, more or less, on blind faith.

Years ago, this would have freaked me out. Now, I am okay with it. I mean, we can't all be experts on everything. Sometimes we have to just accept that we should just stumble along as best we can . . . on blind faith.

The Ten Commandments

Grant, an occasional reader and wonderful writer, wrote something on Halloween that was not satanic, overtly mocking, or had any pictures of hot Asian women in miniskirts. He wrote about religion. But not in a "why doesn't your Savior get a haircut" sort of way. More like in a way where several freshmen political science majors could plagiarize his blog, quoting him as "a senior white house official".

Grant's thesis, as follows: "Here in the Southeastern portion of the United States a lot of the Christian propaganda slingers make claims that our laws are based on the ten commandments." I have taken all of the wit out of the thesis, basically so I look clever and sexy, and Grant looks like an accountant with morals. Yeah, some accountants have morals. I have read about them. Okay, I haven't. But based on the number of accountants in the United States, there have to be some with morals.

Okay, I had to go back to Grant's site to cut and paste the Ten Commandments – and there was mention of a miniskirt in his blog. Well, at least I know it is him. [edited in: The bolded parts are from Grant's blog, and the rest is crap I made up and pawned off as fact. I added this after knot made a comment that made me think I was cutting and pasting all of Grant's blog from this point forward.]

The reason I took his 10 Commandments is because I don't know all ten of them. You see, I am Catholic. All I remember is not to have sex before married, or until the guy is really, really frustrated. Anyway, Grant gave very good reasons why most or all of these commandments have no relevance to our current government, and I thought it would be interesting if I tried the exact opposite approach, that the commandments are entrenched in our government.

#1: Do not have any other gods before me. The US Government can be thought of as a god. Our money has the words "In God We Trust" emblazoned on its money, but we are really talking about the US Government. If you have a peek at the government, it grows. When President Carter decided to make two new cabinet posts (the Department of Energy and Department of Education). These two departments have grown a lot over the years, and I don't know too many people who think we have a better energy plan or our education is any better since establishing these two departments. Clearly, the US Government thinks they are god, and the government knows best. So this commandment is clearly entrenched in the US Government.

#2: You shall not make or worship a false idol. You see, the government, according to the above, is the true idol. The government gets more power when you rely on it, when you take their handouts. And I am not faulting anyone from taking handouts. I mean, when I turn 65 or 72 or whenever I am eligible for Social Security, I will be filing my paperwork. But the Government doesn't want us to build our own businesses (why else would they tax them the way they do?), to form communities where we don't depend on Social Security (the Amish, for instance). No, our Government does not want us to worship other things.

#3: You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain. Again, if the US Government is a god, then why do you think we enacted the Patriot Act? To catch bad guys? Right. How about having something where we can spy on our own? Oh, and as a bonus, we can imprison those who are against us. Bonus.

#4: Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy. The Sabbath is not necessarily Sunday. For our government, there are several of these days. We call them Federal holidays. Try mailing a letter or depositing money in a bank on those days. Even some public transportation is extremely scaled back.

#5: Honor your father and your mother. Okay, again, "father" and "mother" are actually the President and Vice President. Mom and Pops. Seems you can't burn these people in effigy. I remember in school that the founding fathers burned King George III in effigy. Hell, if W. had a son named George, think of the parallels. Oh, I am off on a tangent again. Anyway, the Government doesn't like free speech if it involves fire. Think flag burning, yelling fire in a building. I could go on and on. Hey, now that is a great title for a blog. Again, a tangent.

#6: You shall not kill. This rule is for individuals, not municipalities. I mean, who hasn't read an article about some rookie cop shooting a ten-year-old with a lime green squirt gun. Oh, and this is the law of the land, as long as you don't count Texas. In Texas, you can kill someone if they are on your property holding your television set. Apparently, a TV set is considered a deadly weapon. I gave an argument for this one, but admittedly, this is my weakest argument thus far.

#7: You shall not commit adultery. I think this means you can't say, "Government, fuck yourself." Say government, bomb, George Bush, and anthrax on the phone to someone. See how long until some ATF guy with a 'tude knocks down your door. It may not be illegal, but if they can put you in jail without you seeing a judge, er, I think that is a bit worse than something that is illegal. I mean, you still screwed.

#8: You shall not steal. You can't cheat on taxes. That is like stealing from god. Not cool, illegal, and how they nailed Capone.

#9: You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. Don't lie in court. Sort of like the above, except they nailed Martha Stewart (she really needed nailing, in more ways than one). They couldn't get her for those stupid doilies she makes on camera or the bitch she is, so they got her on lying.

#10: You shall not covet your neighbor's swag. I actually had to look this one up. I did not know what a swag was, but I am guessing it is a female stag. Bestiality is illegal, immoral and messy.

Okay, so I just argued the opposite of Grant. And I filled in all the blanks. Oh, and you know what is sort of funny, other than my one stalker (yeah, Grant, I have a stalker and you don't) and a few other people, the only people who will be reading this are freshmen political science majors and people surfing for Asian girls in miniskirts. And that's called limited freedom of speech, baby!

Erotica

I saw the ~Deb got reviewed the other day. I am not going to tell you the site, because I don't want to drive traffic their way. I don't think their reviews are helpful. They are sort of mean-spirited and juvenile.

Anyway, I was reviewed by them a long time ago. Twice actually. And reviewed by another site. Oh, the point is not that my site has been reviewed in the past. Focus, Leesa, focus. Where was I? The other site actually mentioned that the erotica on my site was disturbing. Erotica sometimes is supposed to be disturbing, I guess.

And it gives me a moment to pause. Is erotic all that bad? Madonna thinks it is okay, and I sort of use Madonna as my guidepost. Okay, that is a bit of a joke.



I don't write erotica all that often. It seems to be an outlet of sorts. I have been a very good girl for several years. Yeah for me. But I still have impure thoughts, impure urges. And my erotica is like gum to an ex-smoker. A crutch – perhaps, but it helps me not stray.

Now I am not someone else's guidepost. I hope I am not. I just want to write a little bit, and every once in a while, a post or two might help someone. That's probably why I still write even when I don't feel like it.

Some things are sinful, but I don't believe erotica has to be sinful. I mean, read the following:

I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.

The words may or may not be familiar with you. They are beautiful, they are erotic, and they can be found in the Bible.

I know my words are not worthy of the Bible. I am not saying that at all. What I am saying is that even the most holy texts contain erotica in them. Why can't some do nothing blog?

'Til Death Do Us Part (Maybe)

Part of me does not want to post today. I wrote a pretty decent¹ post yesterday, and knowing about blogging like I do, I know most people don't read more than one post deep. Well, unless the previous post is illustrated with full frontal nudity.

Plus, I have the crud. The crud that everyone seems to have now. I don't want to write.

I had a dream last night. I dreamt of my grandmother. I had a close relationship with my grandmother – she really was a special person. She lived a good, full life, dying in her mid-nineties. She was ready to die. All of my grandparents lived long lives, one of which even told me, nay, shocked me, when telling me once, "I am ready to die." I was young and idealistic, and did not really contemplate death until that day.

Well, my grandmother, after her death, started visiting me in my dreams.

The brain is a funny thing – made up of neurons soaking in organic liquid that gives us our thoughts – the "brain power" I am using to write this now is merely neurotransmitters – that's all science can prove. So I can't prove that my grandmother is visiting me from the grave. In fact, science can't help and my religion² can't either. Both are silent on the topic.

I chose to believe my grandmother visits me. She does so when I need answers. She talks in her own way, and sometimes she doesn't give me the answer I want to hear. Even if it is not really her, it gives me comfort. Perhaps the neurotransmitters in my brain are a little sweeter now that she has passed. And I don't even want to know what the Freudians would think of such a revelation.

Before a relative died, I was scared that all of this religion was wrong. That once you are laying in that pine box, you have made your last curtain call. You are no longer anything but food for whatever can penetrate that pine box. Personally, I hope they go after my neurotransmitters last.

I have a few more things to tell my grandmother.

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¹By pretty decent, I mean I made one decent point, referenced a couple of interesting YouTube people, and it only take twenty minutes to write.

²The Catholic Church used to believe in "speaking in tongues." You can see it in the second book of Acts (Acts 2:4-8). It can also be found in Mark, James and several other places in the Bible. The Catholic Church no longer acknowledges that people in this day in age can speak in tongues.

Discussing Religion

Prata brings up an interesting comment today, so instead of just responding in the comments section, I will devote a post to it. Okay, actually I have got nothing to write about again today, so this sort of acts as the filler.

I have discussed religion with lots of people, and you know, sometimes assumptions are made that are so full of crap. For instance, I assume that the person I am talking with knows about their own religion. And you know, that is not necessarily true.

I have heard others say, "Well, a neighbor of mine was Catholic, and he said . . . ." And it ends with a statement that is totally ridiculous. Like we don't really worship Jesus. I used to get mad at this, and then, after a while, I am just glad they did not torch the Catholic neighbors house.

But I do the same thing. There are a lot of Baptists in the area, and if I am talking to a Primitive Baptist, and they make a statement, I just take it on faith that they know what the hell they are talking about.¹ I don't go to their document of salvation and find out for myself. Partly because I am lazy, and it is easy for me just to poke holes in what they say, precisely because they sort of screwed something up. Generally, when you look at the doctrine up close, things seem a whole lot more plausible.

Catholics get razzed because priests can't marry and are supposed to be celibate. Did you know that Pope Silverius was the son of Pope Hormisdas? We are talking sixth century AD, so this was a long time ago. Well, I did not remember their names, but looked it up on Wikipedia. Still may not be right, but I have read and heard of a father-and-son pope. The Catholic Church did not always have this celibacy rule in effect.

Okay, there are some kooky rules for picking Pope, and I also sort of wonder why there have been so many Italian Popes. Pope Adrian VI, elected in 1522, was the only Dutch Pope, and last non-Italian to be elected pope until John Paul II in 1978. Now, it is hard for me to believe that the selection of a non-Italian Pope should only happen every 400 or so years.

The history of the Catholic Church – of many churches, really – can be really interesting.

I guess, my spastic point is to remember that just because someone belongs to a church, does not mean you should believe they know what that church really espouses. Oh, and you probably should not torch their house, even if they are wearing suits and giving out free Mormon Bibles.²

All of this religion got me to thinking about a recent – or not so recent – "Dictionary of Jack" video (song). JackDanyells, a really cute YouTuber, wrote and sang the original song, part of which is shown below:

The Ism Song
When it comes to religion
You can't go wrong
There's a million-billion isms
To help you find god
There's Taoism
Buddhism, Hinduism too,
And of course there's Judaism
For all the Jews.

omnism says religions are swell.
Atheism says there's no heaven or hell
Even Catholicism has its cross to bare
And there's always agnosticism
If you just don't care

Oh, and I have to imbed the video because he is so hot. I mean, because he is so insightful and clever.



Considering most of my audience is male, I guess I should imbed Hot for Words as well. If I was from another country and had implants and blond hair, I guess I would be her.



So much for me not having anything to say today.

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¹Yes, I purposefully placed the words "faith" and "hell" close to one another. Just because.

²I knew a friend who assumed the Mormon Bible was just another version of the King James Bible. Er, yeah, I have some really dumb friends.

The Ghost of Mrs. Leesa

The other day, I had the most non-Catholic conversation with my nephew. Okay, I am the cool, kid-less aunt, but I am also the Catholic aunt, so I am not sure I am totally proud of the conversation. Oh, and I have changed his name.

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Duncan: Aunt Leesa, do you believe in ghosts?

Leesa: Pardon me? (I often say "pardon me" or another filler in order to give me time formulate a good answer.)

Duncan: Aunt Leesa, do you believe in ghosts?

Leesa: Well, Duncan, when I was a little girl, I thought ghosts were just made up. That they were created to scare children. But I was wrong.

Duncan: Really?

Leesa: Yes, when I was a little girl, I lost my great-grandmother. She had many grandchildren (oh, and in the conversation, I did say grandchildren when I should have said great-grandchildren), but I was her first great-granddaughter. The only one she ever met. A few months after she died, I was missing her terribly. One night, I was thinking of her, missing her terribly, when I saw her. She told me to wipe my eyes, that she did not like tears.

Duncan: And?

Leesa: Well, my tears turned to giggles. She did hate crying, and it reminded me that she would tickle me when I cried. As a ghost, she was translucent, and over the course of a few minutes, she was gone. I guess I did not need her anymore.

Duncan: So you really believe in ghosts?

Leesa: Yeah, I guess I do.

Duncan: And they don't like the light, right?

Leesa: Well, Duncan, I saw my great-grandmother in the early evening, but I suspect that ghosts are around us all of the time. We just can't see them. And in the daylight, it may be harder to see a translucent ghost, sort of like you don't see the stars in the daytime even though they are in the sky.

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And our conversation continued for the next few minutes.

Part of me was a bit concerned that the Catholic Church would consider this blasphemous. But part of me was glad that my nephew asked me the question. Sometimes we have to believe in things that seem, well, hard to believe in. So often I think with my head, and every once in a while, I find myself feeling with my heart. It makes me feel more human, more vunerable. But to Duncan, I am now Crazy Aunt Leesa who believes in ghosts.

Oh, and those with children have probably guessed: this was not the answer Duncan's parents wanted him to hear.

The Church of Hot Chicks

Okay, Sunday, I was sitting in Church¹, and we were running a little late. I don't know about your church, but in my church the woman generally picks the seat. Yeah, men make more money, but women get to pick out the china and decide where to sit at church. Well, Sunday, we were running late and the only seats near our normal seat was directly behind the hot twins.

I don't know about your church, but our church has some twins – they are college age (I am assuming, as they show up in mid-May and are gone by August), they are blond, and one always wears a top that shows off her tattoo located on the small of her back. We don't talk about it, but you can tell that women avoid sitting their husbands right in front of these two Catholic girls.

Trouble is, in the summer, women wear more revealing clothing, And it is not to tempt the men in church. It is because it is getting warmer, and women want to look attractive. I can tell you nearly all women don't want men to leer at them at church. That is just a bit gross. Not sure how I came to this conclusion.

But our local Catholic church not only has hot chicks. It has one man, I don't know his name, who looks like a movie director. He is probably 60 years old, fit and wears cool shades, even in church. He dresses dapper, and he moves really elegantly. I swear, when he gets communion, he looks like the director from a movie just popping in to get salvation and then back to the back lot².

Then I look in another direction of the chapel, of the church, and I see a family with two sets of twins. Two boys, exact copies of one another, and two girls, another carbon copy of one another. The boys are older, but all four look like they are the same height. So even though I know these kids are two sets of twins, they look, sort of, like they are part of quadruplets. And they get a lot of second looks. Mom is the only one who goes to Mass. Not sure where Dad is.

You know, I started this with just telling you about a fellow Catholic or two, but now I know, Christians – and, yes, Catholics are Christians – come in all shapes and sizes. Some are hot, some are mysterious and aloof, some are parts of large families, and some have no children. But we meet, once a week, and we pray together.

When two are more are gathered . . . . even when two are hot college chicks.

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¹The Catholic Church usually capitalizes the "C", but for the sake of a cleaner looking blog entry, I will not capitalize it.

²I don't know what a back lot is, but it is really movie-related.

Resonating

Have you ever used a tuning fork? Me, I remember holding them in science class. Now, I can't remember the point of the tuning fork in school, but we had them in science class. You hold it and whack it on the table, and then it makes a sound. A tuning fork resonates at a specific constant pitch after whacking it, and I guess the pitch helps with tuning pianos and such. But I forget why we had these things in science class. I never got the dissecting frogs, either. Other than dissuading me from going to vet school. I don't want to touch another frog. Oh, and I ma allergic to formaldehyde (or so my science teacher believed).

Note to future high school science students: say you are allergic to formaldehyde if you don't want to touch frogs.

Getting back to the tuning fork. I have noticed that when I am in a funk, I am not in pitch with my life. Either I am not exercising, or I am not doing anything creative at work, or things are not going well with my family (mostly my sister). When I don't resonate, everything seems less real, less important, less happy.

We all need something that speaks to our soul, to the core of who we are. Some may make fun of certain Christians, but if they are living a centered life, they are pretty happy. And I am not talking about the ones who just bash gay people because of traumatic events in their own lives or that they did not get enough unconditional love, or whatever. I don't agree with much the Mormon Church says, but most of the one's I meet that give me free Bibles and ride bikes seem to be fairly chipper folks. And the Mormon Bibles can be used for lots of things.

For me, I had my hubbie cut out the middle of the Mormon Bible and then I glued the pages together. Now I have a neat hiding place. And it is in a Mormon Bible, something no thief will ever pick up. Okay, I did not do that to one of their Bibles. Just in case that is a bad thing. But in a funny, sacrilegious way, you have to chuckle about it.

Oh, I was making a profound point before all of this. See, some atheists may say, talking about religion makes you miss profound points. Yeah, but you really develop those calf muscles, peddling from neighborhood to neighborhood. You know those porno movies that had the pizza guy that gets lucky? Why don't they do it with someone peddling Bibles? They always come in the middle of the day, when all of the hard-up housewives are watching soaps. I mean, when I order pizza, it is the end of the day and I don't want to cook. I am rarely horny and want the delivery guy's pepperoni. Again, sacrilegious. Sorry, I know this is wrong, but I actually find humor in religion. Got me in trouble in CCD.

Focus, Leesa. Main point. What the heck was it? Something to do with tuning forks, or cute guys in science class. I know, do what resonates with you, so that when you are working on life's work, you are in tune with the world, with your own heart, and with the pizza guy. Er, perhaps I have been out-of-tune lately.

At least I did not cut up the Mormon Bibles. After all, it would ruin my Mormon Bible tower. Twelve books high, affectionately called, "The Tower of Babble." Er, I didn't mean that, especially if the Mormons are right.

Football Church

Okay, this is going to be a religious post, and if you are non-religious and blame religion on the ills of the world, this post will not be for you. And, if you are deeply religious and have no sense of humor (sadly, these two traits coincide rather regularly, almost predictably), this post is not for you. Do me and yourselves a service and go to the next blog. Really.

Okay, I was at church Sunday, and something annoyed me. Okay, I am Catholic, and unlike some of my protestant brethren, we move around a lot during Mass. I secretly think that in the early days of the church, they promoted physical exercise as well as spiritual exercise because, well, there was no Splenda® back then. Anyway, we go to the alter to get communion – and that means we leave our seat, march up, and then attempt to return to our seat. "Attempt" is the key word here, and this actually leads to my annoyance. You see, our pews (for heathens who know nothing about church furniture, a pew is a large, uncomfortable bench used to keep churchgoers awake during the boring parts of Mass/church) are not labeled. That is, all of our pews look about the same, and so returning to our seat is always a challenge, because of this design issue.

Anyway, Sunday morning, I was thinking that church pews would be improved if they are labeled so we can get back to the right seat. And, by the way, for you degenerates please don't go through ladies purses while they are receiving communion. I am pretty sure that is a straight way to hell for the twelve dollars and tic-tacs you scored. And if I am wrong, oh, well, you will have to purchase your own tic-tacs, but if I am right, you avoid spending an eternity in purgatory (side note: I don't actually believe this, but you know, so many do that I figure I would just throw this in here).

During the homily (serman for non-Catholics), I was thinking about other ways to improve the Church. We had a light crowd this morning (which is good for me, easy to park and I did not have to hold my coat in my lap), and it occurred to me that it might have been because it was "Championship Sunday." When the heck did they start labeling all of the various playoff Sundays?

Oh, well, back to my train of thought. If church was more like attending a football game, perhaps people would actually look forward to church (pssssssssss, God, I love going to church each Sunday. Or should I be speaking to Saint Peter? Is he the one that maintains your naughty and nice list? Oh, that is Santa. I mean your heaven or hell list?). But some people don't like going to church. This would bring in some of those on the fringe back into the fold. Since I am on the fringe with football, I think I can speak to this in an intelligent manner.

Football games have concessions. And for some of us, concessions are great. Can you imagine sitting in your pew, and being able to flag down a peanut guy? Hell, er, I mean heck (psssssssssss, God, saying hell is okay, right? I wasn't implying that I was doing advertising for the devil, God, honest.), wouldn't it be sort of cool to see peanuts flying in the air. And for an obnoxious kid, I would buy him some peanuts to shut him up.

And for hubbie, he would be able to buy beer on tap. That would be his treat for listening to a sermon on temperance. Well, not really (we are Catholic), but you get the idea. Perhaps one of the sermons on poking your eyes out when you lust after women. Do I have to poke my eyes out, too? I often wondered that. Well, not often.

And I am not sure that the church ought to have cheerleaders, but if they said uplifting cheers, perhaps it would help. "Give me a G, give me an O, give me a D. What does that spell? What does that spell? God!"

"God, push him back, push him back, push Satan way back!"

Cheerleading can be an asset to church. And if the old men start lusting after the cheerleaders in their outfits? Guess they can go to confession. Too bad there is no longer any indulgences or this cheerleading thing could be a cash flow opportunity for the church.

The church could install scoreboards, and I know what you are thinking, we could post the weekly collections on the scoreboard. Or we could post to the number of souls saved. What would be funny as hell, er, heck (sorry, God), is posting the number of churchgoers who leave early. For Catholics, it is right after Communion, but I guess, for other denominations, you have the same problem.

In that respect, I guess football and church is about the same. You have people leaving early to beat the traffic. No matter what entertainment they are seeing.