a restraining order against Yahweh - lifted verbatim from dulcimergoddess the brilliant
It fits a certain pattern, doesn't it. All you need to do is flip open the pages of that Holy Book in Translation:
Yahweh is an abuser. It's a textbook case of domestic violence.
Consider his attitude: I love you completely, but I can rescind that love on a whim. I set nonsensical rules -- don't eat from that tree, stay away from shellfish and poly-cotton blends -- and smite you if you break them.
See what you made me do? If you weren't so sinful, if you appropriately interpreted my cryptic spoutings from burning bushes and mountaintops or just read my mind, bitches, I wouldn't have to smite you. I am the God of Love, but I do enjoy smashing entire cities that piss me off and ordering my minions to commit genocide when it comes to the Canaanites.
It's Borderline Personality disorder on a cosmic scale, I tell you. Spiced with some anger management issues.
What we need is a restraining order, plain and simple.
Once we obtain the order, Yahweh can no longer contact the human race at our homes or places of employment. He can no longer make threatening or cryptic comments to our blood relatives, hoping that they'd relay them to us.
In fact, he can no longer smite within a 50-foot radius of us.
Violation of said order will lead to an immediate reincarnation as Gilbert Gottfried, arguably the worst and most annoying comedian of all time. Or as a subway bathroom attendant.
I think it's a fine idea!
(me too!
You rock, grrl!)
Yahweh is an abuser. It's a textbook case of domestic violence.
Consider his attitude: I love you completely, but I can rescind that love on a whim. I set nonsensical rules -- don't eat from that tree, stay away from shellfish and poly-cotton blends -- and smite you if you break them.
See what you made me do? If you weren't so sinful, if you appropriately interpreted my cryptic spoutings from burning bushes and mountaintops or just read my mind, bitches, I wouldn't have to smite you. I am the God of Love, but I do enjoy smashing entire cities that piss me off and ordering my minions to commit genocide when it comes to the Canaanites.
It's Borderline Personality disorder on a cosmic scale, I tell you. Spiced with some anger management issues.
What we need is a restraining order, plain and simple.
Once we obtain the order, Yahweh can no longer contact the human race at our homes or places of employment. He can no longer make threatening or cryptic comments to our blood relatives, hoping that they'd relay them to us.
In fact, he can no longer smite within a 50-foot radius of us.
Violation of said order will lead to an immediate reincarnation as Gilbert Gottfried, arguably the worst and most annoying comedian of all time. Or as a subway bathroom attendant.
I think it's a fine idea!
(me too!
You rock, grrl!)