Why The World Is Wrong

why would anyone choose to be different.

it's all nice and fine to say 'oh well I love being different'.
but no one really does.

those bug eyed stares.
the snickers behind your back.
the amazement of seeing something so strange.

I hate being different.
everyday I look at what I see in the mirror and spew hate at it.
I hate everything that I am.
being different isn't good.
it's just another vice that someone can twist to warp you.

so yes.
I am different.

but I wish everyday that I wasn't.
but who would choose to be so different in a world that is so reactionary.
a world that refuses to move into the future.
I know I wouldn't.

this is the world I am forced to know.
we are all forced to know.
this xenophobic homophobic cainotophobic existance.
it isn't pretty.

is it wrong for me to want to be normal?
to be average?
maybe.
maybe not.

perhaps difference is synonymous with bravery.
that being different, or allowing ones self to be, is progressive.
beneficial for the future.

then again,
maybe being different is a curse.
and we're all designated for a fiery existance in the pits of hell.
or new york city.

is it worth it?
this constant ridicule, pain, hatred?

I don't think so.

but then again,
I have no choice in the matter.

Signs point to love.

I turn on the TV and I see the protesters: angry, yelling, carrying signs. 

LEVITICUS 20:13

THE JEWS KILLED JESUS

GOD HATES FAGS

Click! I quickly flip the channel.

There's a senator on TV, making a speech. He's saying he's happy about the earthquake in Haiti, that he's glad God sent that disaster to punish the Haitans for their "sinful" local customs and beliefs. 

I reach for the remote once again. Click!

They've banned the burqa in France-- click-- violence in Israel and Lebanon--click!--  and Glenn Beck is on the screen, shouting, saying Obama should go back to the Muslim-loving Arab country he was born in and-- click!-- 

I turn off the TV; I can't stand it any more. 

Because the one thing all or most of these people have in common, apart from their inexcusable bigotry, is their professed belief in the teachings of Jesus Christ. 

Maybe I'm wrong about Jesus. Maybe all my years of Sunday school, and all the hymns I've sung, and all the sermons I've listened to (intently or not so much) didn't quite get through. Maybe I'm not interpreting Jesus' message quite right, maybe he DID say somewhere to hate our neighbor because they're a little bit different, maybe the Bible is dripping with some kind of sarcasm I didn't get, but the ONE message I've gotten above all the others out of being a Christian all my life is that God loves you no matter who you are or what you do, and we're supposed to love each other because of that. 

We've all failed at this. Of course we have. We are all human, after all; that's what forgiveness is for. The thing that really bothers me, though, is the people who deliberately preach hate against other human beings in God's name. "Well, God OBVIOUSLY hates these people," they say. They point to people's suffering, to natural disasters, to isolated incidents, as proof that "these people"-- gays, Jews, Muslims, the poor, what have you-- have sinned, somehow, enough to make God stop loving them. But the truth is, that just isn't possible.

Yes, people make mistakes sometimes. And yes, bad things happen sometimes. And I honestly don't really know how to explain either except by saying that life is a messy ordeal and no one knows why. But the answer isn't in blame or hate or fear; it's in love. In the end, love is what God gave us: not answers to everything or absolute perfection or a reason to point fingers at people and shout that we're right, but love. And the point of Christianity-- the point, I think, of any life well-lived regardless of your particular religious creed-- is to share that love with people, whether in the form of the missionary who goes to Guatemala with food and Bibles and free dental exams, or the school full of kids donating toys and socks and blankets so that some poorer kids can have a nice Christmas, or even just in that one friend who seeks you out on your worst days and asks you what's wrong and just listens. Because for those of you asking yourself, that, not yelling or blaming or carrying angry signs, is what Jesus would have done. 

I turn on the TV again, and there are the signs. Except I'm not angry anymore, just sad. I want to make signs of my own:

JOHN 3:16

JESUS WAS A JEW, THEY'RE PRETTY OKAY

GOD LOVES FAGS EVERYONE

GOD LOVES YOU

--Patti

Bible verses mentioned:

"If a man lie with a male as he lies with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination. They shall surely be put to death. Their blood shall be upon them." (Leviticus 20:13)

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16)

jokes

-you know what i dont like about you?
arthur glanced at the teen next to him, his hands gripping the steering wheel even tighter for a second before he loosened his grip.
-you are too serious.
-i'm too serious?
arthur echoed, before repeating it loudly.
-oh really now? Vinny, Ronaldo, do you agree? Am I too serious?
Vinny just looked away from Arthur and Ronaldo coughed awkwardly into his hand.
Michael next to him grinned at their responses.
-See? you are too serious.
-what do you want me to do then?
-i don't know... how about a joke?
-a joke?
-yes a joke. tell us a joke.
Michael laughed as vinny and ronaldo agreed from the back seat.
-alright. here's one, Knock Knock.
-who's there?
michael ventured
silence.








-go fuck yourself.

Apples to Apples

She stood up nervously, aware of this cult's fake, glossy exterior.

A hundred eyes staring, staring.

A hundred twinkling, supposedly supportive, supposedly happy, supposedly Christian eyes.

I wish I knew what they were thinking. Probably closer to hell than heaven.

The question was simple.

Every member of the congregation was suppose to answer honestly.

Why are you a Christian?

So maybe it wasn't so simple.

At least, not if everyone was to answer honestly.

Deep breath, clenched fists and eyes cast downward she took a stab at the answer.

"I'm not a Christian," 

A hundred happy little masks fell off, the staring became glaring.

She looked up, quickly glancing at everyone's real faces.

"God's gonna set you uh'fire, youngin'" Screeched a particularly soulful old woman.

God, I hate the south.

 "He's not gonna set me afire, Ms. Chokeberry." Polite enough.

"Do you doubt the power of God?"

"Let the child speak, ma'am. I want to hear this." The preacher interrupted firmly, gently giving her the  verbal nudge to carry on.

"I'm not a Christian. Because there's just one aspect of the Bible I cannot even begin to comprehend, much less believe."

"Blasphemy." Ms.Chokeberry breathed.

She shrugged it off, agitated and inspired.

"And, well, frankly, it's not the miracles or the unconditional love; the omnipresence or the abundance of power..."

Her shoulders released all tension as her mind released all filters.

"I mean, I don't really care if God can create a stone heavy enough that he couldn't even lift it. Or how He himself was created..."

Filters were alerted by the next absurdity she was about to vocalize.

"What really bothers me,"

Sweat triggered.

"W-w-what...really...bothers me"

Glaring eyes were becoming impatient.

"What really bothers me is Genesis....The beginning....the genesis of sin."

Moments of silence.

"What bothers you about it?"

She was hoping that question wouldn't come up.

"Uhm...well...you see"

Complete honesty.

"I just...could never wrap my mind around the fact that God didn't want Eve to eat an apple. Out of all things- an apple to represent sin?"

The awkward silence of whether to voice laughter or disbelief.

She continued, "What kind of parent wouldn't be happy, proud to have their kids eat fruit? Especially one that made them smarter, more aware, more mature! It just...it just never made sense. It should have been a Twinkie tree or something. something sweet and fattening and wrong. Not....not an apple!"

No one said a thing.

"Well, child," the old woman broke the silence with her sharp voice, "Twinkie's simply do not grow on trees."

"God could've done it."

"Oh please!"

She smirked right along with her.

"Well, ma'am. Who's doubting the power of God now?"

--Julie