Shut Up, You Believe In Talking Snakes

 

Dwayne: PWNER?
Jimmy: Uh...that was one of my hacker names.
Dwayne: Is that even a word?
Jimmy: Shut up, you believe in talking snakes.

-The Tithe #7
by Matt Hawkins and Phillip Sevy

Why Do You Bother?

Father Leone: I mean, people look to you to save them -- probably most of the time -- from their own mistakes.
They do things -- knowingly -- wrong. And they look to you afterward to make them right.
Why do you bother?
Superman: Because I can.
Father Leone: That doesn't mean you have to.
Superman: Yes, it does.
Father Leone: Why...
...if it's not out of love?

- Superman #206

by Brian Azzarello and Jim Lee

Violence Is Stupid

Alana: Why, because you violated some personal pledge against hurting awful people?
Marko: My reluctance to use force isn't ideological, it's practical.
Violence is stupid. Even as a last resort, it only begets more of the same.

- Saga #5
by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples

No Other Explanation

Tree: Cedric took the "Vampires Walk Among Us" speech pretty well, I think.
Nick: Might not have been the best time to drop your "Jesus Was A Vampire" theory on him.
Tree: A guy shows up alive three days after being crucified. There is no other explanation.

-Blood Brothers #2

by Mike Gagerman, Andrew Waller, Etan Cohen, and Evan Shaner

God Sweats the Details

People think God sweats the details...
People think He's got time to watch each and every thing we do. Like he really cares what we say and whether or not we're really following his rules. It's such bullshit.
He's not marking down every impure thought or bad word. He doesn't care if you look at your neighbor's wife or drink on a Sunday or masturbate.
He's a little busy waging war on a cosmic level with the devil and the forces of evil.
He just wants us to be good and be good to each other. So really...masturbate all you want.

- Outcast #3
by Robert Kirkman and Paul Azaceta

MitchWords 16.1

God Comes to Roch

“Don't do that!” I shouted with a start as I opened my eyes and saw a figure looming over my bed.

“Get up,” the familiar man said.

I sat up, propping myself up on my elbows. “You don't exactly score points for subtlety, you know.”

“Up,” the figure insisted as he turned and headed out of the bedroom. “And I could use a drink.”

Stumbling in the dark, I followed him down the hall into the darkened living room. “Wait, what time is it? It's the middle of the night!”

The man flipped a lamp on and found himself a seat on the couch. “You live with people now. It's hard to find a time when you are alone for some private and genuine conversation.”

I stood dumbfounded for a moment.

“You never pray anymore,” he clarified.

“I don't know how to pray,” I replied with a shrug and walked into the kitchen. “Now you said you wanted a drink? I don't think they have...”

“Surge,” came the voice from the couch.

God Rid Me Of God

Dear God, what happens in and under the name of “God,” I do not know how to pray. One would think I would know how to do this by now, but I am afraid I do not. I am afraid the vocabulary and eloquence to address the Divine eludes me. I am afraid I lack the ability to properly respond to the insistent call of God. So I begin this prayer with the humiliating proclamation that I do not know how to pray.

Dear God, I agree with Jack Caputo and his accomplice Meister Eckhart when I pray that, dear God, rid us of God.

Dear God, rid us of the God of this selfish and entitled religion. Rid us of the God whose omnipotence is so impotent that he falters, flails, and throws an infantile tantrum at the slightest objection or protest to his religion's status quo. Rid us of the God whose followers behave the same way.

Dear God, rid us of the God of Red Cup Christians, so insecure in their faith that they need and demand capitalist corporations to affirm and confirm their beliefs. Rid us of the God that has perverted Jesus' teachings to sell our possessions and give our money to the poor into a right to waste that money on overpriced and superfluous First World extravagances.

God rid us of the God of equal measures, balances and ledgers, retributive justice, and the economics of salvation that stand in opposition of the unconditional impossible that is love, hope, and the gift.

Rid us of the God of the status quo. Rid me of the God that says my characteristics just happen to be normative and anything otherwise is deviant. God rid us of the God that separates and condemns the oppressed, the forsaken, and the lost. Rid me of the God that conveniently hates all the things that I hate.

Rid me of a God that hates me as much and as frequently as he loves me. Rid me of a God that I am terrified of and terrified to love. For what would it say of me to love such a God?

Dear God, rid me of the God that expects perfect prayers, wondrous worship, and exotic exaltation. Rid me of the God that cares if I don't know how to pray. God, rid us of all other Gods and gods that we have set up to take your place, for we find them more agreeable than you and your unconditional, ridiculous, obscene, and stupid love for the other.

Finally, dear God, rid me of the God of intellectual hubris. Rid me of the God that allows me to speak in such accusative, dismissive, and derogatory language. Rid me of the God that makes me certain of my uncertainty and arrogant in my theology.

Dear God, this is my prayer, which I do not know how to pray.

Dear God, rid us of God.