A Prayer Won't Serve You Well
Now Playing: Sade--"Paradise"
I intend the following italicized comments as my contribution to a religious discussion on the British Horror Films forum:

Anyone who knows me will know that I'm not religious, and that I consider myself a thoroughgoing agnostic; both religious and atheistic belief, for me, rest on suppositions that can never be proven or disproven. My present convictions have been pretty much in place since I was twelve or thirteen, and have rarely changed since. My views, of course, don't prevent me from appreciating the good things religion has given the world--an extra buttressing of tradition to human decency (the abolition of slavey might have taken a good deal longer if it hadn't been for the religiously inspired fervor of some of its foremost advocates*) and countless literary and artistic achievements (I've mentioned before that I consider the Beatitudes one of the supreme human moments, and Velasquez and Caravaggio--the latter a pimp and murderer--are two of my favorite painters). I have friends both very religious and very atheistic, and we all get along famously. It's important to remember that most religious people DON'T fly planes into buildings, explode themselves in crowded public places, burn mosques (and the people inside), blow up abortion clinics and day care centers, or target doctors for assassination.**

That said, I can understand why so many people in Britain and secular areas like Western Europe and Canada are so worried about the corruptive powers of religion and how they influence the leaders of countries such as the United States and Iran. Watching the high and mighty in my country prattle on about the great influence of Christ in their lives--while acting like they've never even SEEN the Gospels, let alone read them--is a nauseating experience, and I hate to think that we've all got at least three more years of this crap ahead. It's important to remember, though, that a lot of the religious bullshit--in the United States, certainly--is fairly recent historically, at least on the official level. "In God We Trust" dates from McCarthyism, and even the celebration of Christmas wasn't really widespread until the arrival of the last century. In many cases, the "ancient traditions" allegedly "threatened" by my fellow secular humanists exist in the span of living memory. Religious belief isn't what this country's about--it's the toleration and protection of religious belief AND non-religious belief. So as far as I actually have a religion, it essentially lies in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, inspired by the finest sentiments of religious belief but not dictated by or beholden to them. I have no problems with people who believe otherwise, but let's remember the reason this country came into being in the first place.

*In fairness, of course, much of the pro-slavery side was backed by religious arguments as well.

**Which, despite the literally deadly seriousness of the subject, always makes me think of the Hank Murphy line on "Sealab 2021": "On Mars, doctors and other wizards are FORBIDDEN!!" It's a hilarious line, but I suspect there are people out there who actually think that way.

I spent the first part of Friday evening at Conor O'Neill's using my Christmas bonus gift certificate. Conor's is Ann Arbor's theme-park Irish pub, with pictures of James Joyce and concordant quotations and limericks on the walls. Conor's blows hot and cold for me. It can be pretty pleasant during the daytime--I recall watching the Michigan-Ohio State football game there the year before last, and have rarely spent such an enjoyable Saturday afternoon (at least in this town). On weekend nights it becomes an amalgam of Dante's Inferno and some of the divier frat-oriented bars toward campus; "meat market" doesn't come close to doing it justice. I had a good time last night, though. The fisherman's pie was sinfully delicious, and I had the added treat of watching some of our regular customers disporting themselves barely two tables away like frenzied, hooting chimps. They all work at one of those generic downtown companies that involve computers or investment or something, and they always seem such saddened creatures, pinched by the cold and secretly furious at having to waste their lunch break standing in line for anything (and some awful purty ones, I have to admit). I almost certainly exaggerate, but it was good to see them cut loose. While unable to avoid the young women growing rosier and less inhibited, I managed to complete the meal's thematic unity by reading the chapter on Parnell in James Morris' Heaven's Command: "This maddening new kind of revolutionary accepted the abuse of the House [of Commons] with steely calm, infuriating his enemies by the imperturbable Britishness of his responses. He was every inch a gentleman, which made it all the worse."

Afterwards, I walked up Main Street to Crazy Wisdom for a terrific show, courtesy of Matt Jones, Jim Roll, Colette Alexander, Carol Gray, and Margaret Gray (whose delightfully vocal coterie of friends and fans--"Marry me, Margaret Gray!" was one of the night's unexpected highlights). The Jimmer opened, and was traditionally fab, bearing the welcome news that a new album would soon be in the offing. Margaret Gray gave a short but punchy set, many Ani DiFranco songs made slightly harder, I thought, by her voice. A Matt Jones show is always a pleasure, and Friday night's was enhanced by Colette and Carol's wonderful backup (cello and violin, respectively). One song, as yet untitled, had Colette melding bowing and pizzicato to create something which sounded very like the Philip Glass Koyaanisqatsi soundtrack with soul. And as if that weren't enough, we all watched the rain turn to snow through the colossal second-floor window behind the performers. I behaved like a bit of an ass, quite frankly, at one point gleefully waving my scarf, but we all seemed to have a great time. Getting back to religion for a moment, before the show I went browsing through the religion and spirituality section (did you know Mary Magdalene had her own Idiot's Guide?), and found a book on Sikhism founder Guru Nanak Singh in the Islam section. The relationship between Sikhism and Islam has never been very happy, especially in the first couple of centuries, and I hope some sharp-eyed staff member spots the incongruity. I chatted with a bunch of people, mainly Colette, Sari, Laura and Vince, endured a blueberry smoothie, rehydrated... it was all in good fun.

But then, in a perfect world, so would be everything.