The Blasphemy Post

Lent is my favorite season, suddenly everyone I know is religious again. If I recall correctly (my experiment with Catholicism has been over for at least 8 years now), Lent is about reflection. But what it really is, to many people of my generation, is the chance to put on a show, in three ways.

1. Ash Wednesday. Let’s kick it off by letting everyone know that GOD LOVES ME and I GOT UP VERY EARLY to go to church today. I went before work/school, in fact. Forget the fact that although such masses are available the other 364 days of the year, I never go. I’ll go to Christmas and Easter Mass, but mostly because my digestive tract needs a break. How often do people get the ashes in the evening, when nobody else will see them?

I say, if you’re going to get the man in robes to rub last year’s burnt palms on your forehead, at least ask for some truth in your cranial advertising.

2. Giving shit up. Another opportunity to announce to the world that “I AM CATHOLIC” or whatever, and “I AM PIOUS” because I gave up rutabaga sandwiches or whatever trivial shit it is this year. I think as a kid I gave up gum once. Let me tell you, Jesus filled my soul with every passing day. My advice: give up religion. If you can recognize the vices in your life, give them up for good, or don’t, but don’t make a big production out of it.

3. Fishy Friday. This was always the shitty part of Lent when I was a kid, because I hated fish, plus it had bones and I was concerned about choking on the Fish (Of course I had NO REASON to be afraid because the same man in robes who rubbed fried plants on me had touched my throat with two candlesticks and invoked St. Blaise to protect me from choking. Seriously.) Anyway. At my fraternity we’d get dinner delivered nightly – by Italians, no less – and the first Friday in Lent, it may have been hamburgers. Loud protests from the resident Catholics, notably I think, Mills. “I can’t eat this! I’m Catholic. It’s Lent. Man, who ordered this stuff? I guess we’re going to have to do something about this for the remainder of Lent.”

Next Friday, I come downstairs and Mills is halfway through a plate of chicken fingers. What’s the point of self-denial if you can’t exercise it twice in eight days? You want to smoke, curse, fuck, eat red meat, DO IT. If you don’t want to, don’t DO IT. But if it’s really a personal matter, do it FOR YOURSELF .

Which brings me to the complaint policy about this post, as I can think of several readers of this blog who could feasibly be offended. This is how I feel. If your reasons for following Lenten traditions are genuine, great, more power to you. No need to call me on it, because it’s between you and the invisible man in the sky. There’s no need to defend your faith to me, and in any case I won’t change my mind.


One Response to “The Blasphemy Post”

  1. onthegreaux Says:

    but without lent, there can be no mardi gras.

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