Pointy, Bitey, Sharp Sharp Sharp

The news has relentlessly publicized the terrible struggle of fundamentalist churches to pressure retailers to specify precisely *whose* birthday we’re all supposed to be stockpiling gifts for. Strangely, retailers seem to care. I’m not sure I follow the connection – PLEASE don’t bother writing as I’m sure my confusion is more comfortable than my certainty would be – between holiday wage slaves being forced to congratulate consumers on hitting the pushy-religion jackpot and Pauline Christian doctrine, which tells its followers to live frugally. The whole thing just seems like a schoolyard bully stealing smaller kids’ lunch money. This makes me want to send out a simple communique, like a newspaper correction.

Attention, Fundamentalist Christians:

You are not an oppressed minority in the United States.

Hope this helps,

– This comes, by the way, from a middle-aged woman with the Jesus Christ Superstar angels tattooed across her back. It just seems so simple: I am free to believe as I feel, and so are you, and so is everyone else. And worship is personal. It does not belong at the mall.


You know, I can see you. While it’s adorable that you shower me with persistent attention, we’re never going to date. You might as well head to MySpace and find someone who enjoys your panty-sniffing obsession.

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