Creepy mail. Very, very creepy mail.
Stalker baby Jesus.
But also – the usual “I made all the good things” crap which ignores all the bad things. “Today I gave someone cancer for you. In fact I gave thousands of people cancer. I caused thousands of spontaneous abortions. I broke backs, I watched while cars crashed into each other, I killed hundreds with that earthquake in Pakistan, I did nothing to stop those suicide bombers in Peshawar on Sunday or the shooters in Nairobi on Saturday, I give people malaria, and food poisoning, and Crohn’s disease, and mental illnesses. All because I luuuuuuuuuuuv you. Please call. Dad says hi.”
Dear me, that’s disturbing as fuck. And I know people who actually think like that, and are honestly, viscerally sad when people “reject” Jesus and all his wonders. Blllrrrrrggghhh!
I don’t care how much you love me, Jesus. You’ll wear a condom!
Nothing more innocuous than a stalkerish letter expressing a personal desire for you to meet god…
It took me until the start of the second paragraph to get it (having missed who it was addressed to); I really wish I had caught on before coming up with an image of what the “spilled moonlight” was a euphemism for.
Jesus, dude, you’re not going to get anywhere with weird, passive hinting. Adults talk to the people they like, directly, like equals, not staging big showy gestures and then studying their target’s reactions with a magnifying glass.
Why the hell does anyone think this sort of treacly, glurgish, pap is remotely likely to be convincing to any intelligent adult?
(A: Because the writer is not an intelligent adult, and assumes everyone else is as shallow as they are).
I find that message really quite nauseating.
Fine. You know where I live, consider this a standing invitation for you both to drop in any time you please. I would come to your place but for some reason nobody seems to know your address (‘Heaven’ is a bit too vague, my sat-nav doesn’t recognise it and it’s not in my atlas).
It is horribly sappy glurge, and a piss-poor attempt at proselytizing, but on a purely technical level, I have to say it was well-written and quite beautiful. Whomever wrote this has some talent and imagination!
My response to that “letter”.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v365/yukihime9/dean-no-no-nope.gif
Creepy…
What a passive-aggressive “oh if only you could see how much I deserve to be loved by you on account of all the stuff I do for you without you ever having asked me to” whinge-fest. One step away from the “I was so good to you but you ungrateful jerk just ignored me and took took took, guess what I’m tired of always giving, I’m gonna take now… your life… mwahahaha” follow-up letter.
I think you should make a parody letter like what you did here and print out a few dozen copies and tuck them into the frames of bus shelters all around Seattle like people do with real tracts.
When I started reading it, I though “Whoa, that’s scary…I hope whoever wrote this is getting help.”
Then I read the ending. Oh.
It’s not supposed to convince (or convert) anyone — it’s supposed to make the already-converted feel comfortably superior to anyone who doesn’t agree with their obviously perfect and loving and not-at-all-creepy theological position.
Capitalising personal pronouns for god is a weird enough affectation when it’s done in the second or third person (You/He, Your/His, etc), but to do it in the first person too is just creepy. OK, it fits in with the creepy tone of the rest of the letter, but really – why?
This is actually quite old. I remember seeing it when I was still a practising Catholic (which I haven’t been for more than ten years). At the time I thought it was pretty cool (in an ‘oh, that’s so sweet’ kind of way). Now it reads like Twilight. Distinctly creepy.
At least in nominally secular countries this is what the religious have been reduced to, so I take heart in that.
Probably most people have seen this, but it somehow seems an appropriate response:
He is everywhere… in the heavens and Earth.
He makes the stars shine, yet He cannot be seen.
He is noble, abundant, and fills the universe.
He can lift you into the sky and bring you gently down.
He can take many forms.
He can heal. He can kill.
He can help create, and He can help destroy.
Praise be unto He: helium
So cool to see that the son has finally taken up the pen that his father laid down centuries ago.
Theo/#17:
Hee hee. I like..
But it seems to me there should be more love for hydrogen, here. I mean, He is really only doing the work in massive stars that have been around some time. Whereas H…
… well …
H is ancient. H came first.
H is what makes airships burst.
H is useful; makes things grow
Stuck to O in H2O
H is fun but makes you fall
On the end of ethanol
H makes heat but burns your skin
When the ozone gets too thin.
H is lively. H goes boom.
H in H-bomb spells out doom.
(/Begin SNL ‘church lady’ voice: ‘H… The H word… Coincidence? I think not.’)