I live in Seattle, and I'm better than you.

Since moving to Seattle five weeks ago, I have very much enjoyed my time here. I am learning my way around the city and meeting new friends. I have a job, go to a gym, know my bus schedule, have made out with a hot guy, know which Northwestern microbrew I like the most, and have a permanent residence...finally.

But, there are still many things that have to happen before I truely settle in and become one of the crew that calls Seattle home. I am not sure if all of them will happen.

Seattle is an incredibly green city. I spend a lot of time trying to determine if the box my mac and cheese came in goes into the trash, recycling, or yard waste bin. It takes less time to eat mac and cheese. Each household is given a color coded chart that conquers images of the Bush Administration's color coded terror level scale to determine which items go in which of the three trash containers each household must maintain. Just how dangerous is the mac and cheese box for the environment?

When you come onto the bus with a take out box from a restaurant that is Styrofoam, people want to know where you got such a horrid container so they can write a letter to the editor or something. I just tell them not to worry, that I have a whole bunch saved up at home and we'll be having a bon fire with them later tonight.

So while there is not a lot of smog, there is a whole lot of smug. I am not even sure that people intend to come across this way, but it is hard to get around when you are from Texas and know how the rest of the country thinks. Getting rid of my car WAS my good deed for the environment. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.

You will also find a blossoming community of compassionate vegans here in the Northwest. I would like to take this time to extend a huge middle finger to all of them. I am so goddamn sick of you. I hope that when you die, Satan forces you to drink a big, huge glass of skim milk. I cannot tell you how many times a day people will ask me at my low responsibility job at the coffee shop if any of the pastries are vegan. I do not even know what this means or how a person would determine this fact about a pastry. They don't seem impressed with you when you tell them that there is no meat in the blueberry muffin. I really should look up the word 'vegan.' I do know that there are plenty of vegan restaurants around, that I will never set foot in one of them, and that these people should go there.

Rice and soy do not have nipples. Therefore, rice and soy milk is a misnomer. I am pretty sure that rice milk is the water that turns a milky color when you are making rice that is not quite ready yet. At least that it what is tastes like. People drink lattes made with this stuff, when they could save two dollars by drinking an Americano instead. I am pretty sure that espresso and water is as yummy as espresso and grain water. Maybe they have a rice fetish, but it is an expensive, unnecessary habit.

While I was living in my August house, I had the joy of shopping at the most elite grocery store in the city. The PCC. It was the only grocery store within walking distance of where I was living, and so it was my grocery store. Apparently people in Seattle have orgasms about these chain of stores, but I was a little less thrilled. It has a small town feel and the only products that they offer are all natural, organic, local, and expensive. A batch of groceries that should have cost fifty bucks cost twice that much. I had to reach inside my g-string to make up the difference.

One night, as is the case with all people that think too much about things, I had heartburn. Shit, I need some Tums, I thought. So, I walked two blocks at 10:30 pm in order to get some relief. The clerk had never heard of Tums. I am not kidding. I explained my dilemma to her, and she directed me to their all natural pharmacy section in order to get the kind of relief that you could only find in Amish country.

I finally explained that what I really needed was some calcium. Tablets, if they could find some, or liquid if they couldn't. I walked out with half a gallon of milk and some Parmesan cheese. Tums have a lot less fat.

One more funny thing about Seattlites before I close. Last month, while I was still living with the guys in the sublet house, one of the roommates said to me that he simply could not believe that George W. Bush had been reelected in 2004, or that John McCain even had a chance at the White House. I said to him, "Have you ever been to Texas?" Because it is not a mystery to me. In fact, I know enough about the middle of the country to know that anything is possible, and that smart people will have to live with their decision if enough of them get out there to vote.

This past week, during the Republican National Convention (which will get its own entry, by the way), I went into a bar just as Sarah Palin was giving her acceptance speech. I watched the whole thing later online, but it was fun just to sit back and watch the reaction from Joe Schmoe in the bar up here. They simply could not believe that mystery woman behind door number two was going to be the Republican VP candidate. They were not impressed. In fact, the whole convention was a mystery to them. Who ARE these people? What is wrong with them? Were they raised in a barn? All I could say was that some of them probably owned a barn, and many people up here have only seen pictures of barns. Heard about barns. Where farm animals live.

I love Seattle and I certainly belong here, like I am home. I may live here for the next twenty years. But, I am from the South. There is no denying it. Regardless of where a person relocates later in life, you cannot forsake your roots. I despise the Republican Party, but I understand them. I no longer set time out of my day to watch the NFL, but I have spent more time in my life watching football than peeing. I have fired multiple guns, ridden a horse, helped to raise a barn, been blinded by a dust storm, attended Jesus camp, and harvested cotton. Yee haw.

I look forward to the next twenty years. May they be even more full of blessing then the last twenty. But, regardless of how long I live here, I will not forget where I am from. I might learn how to recycle. I might learn to have the same righteous indignation for Styrofoam as the rest of King County. I might get a cool haircut and sit around talking about the latest electric car. But I will always chuckle at tree huggers, self righteous vegans, people that have never heard of Tums, and the politically undiversified. It's funny, and I'm just along for the ride.

In Response

I recently received a comment on a blog entry that I had written back in January about the Bible being revised and expanded for today's society. I must say it is one of the wittier things that I have written about on this thing, and am quite proud of it. The commenter, who I do not know, did not seem to share my same enthusiasm for blasphemy and tactlessness.

Now I will not repost the comment here, because it is quite long and goes on and on about a variety of side issues. Feel free to read the comment yourself to get the full effect. The gist of the message is this: I make a mockery of the Lord Jesus Christ because I have chosen to finally accept myself as a gay person. My liberal views about the Bible make absolutely no sense, and are simply my way of covering up the deep insecurity I feel. Having sex with other men will not fill the deep hole that is in my heart. (Insert whatever joke comes directly after a sentence with "sex with men" and "deep hole.") In order to please God I should pick up my cross, which Lord knows had been weighing me down for years, and follow him. The commenter then goes on to admit to me that he is also gay, or was gay, or something. I think he said "enslaved to gay porn," which sounds like a bondage film.

It should be noted that this person knows absolutely nothing about me, which becomes clear when he talks about "my raging teenage hormones." I only wish, now that I am at peace with my sexuality, I could have those raging hormones back. I would put them to good use. But I am a 25 year old man, and while certainly not past my prime, I simply will never again be as horny, as often, as I was when I was 15. It also should be made clear that while many in the evangelical closeted community think that openly gay men go around fucking every guy they can get there hands on, this has not been my experience thus far. Gay people are people, and people, particularly as they get older enjoy a little intimacy. Monogamy. Stability. Need I continue?

Initially my reaction to this bloggers comment did not include any of the fruits of the Spirit. What a douchebag, I thought. But then I decided to read his blog and go all the way to the beginning. May 2007, one gay man's journey to find peace between his sexuality and his faith in Christianity. I read the first three entries, which was really all I needed and all that I could stand. He described in beautiful prose the struggle that gay people raised in strict religious environments deal with on a daily basis. He laid out the fear, the shame, the anguish, the recurring thoughts of suicide, the confusion, the sense of eternal abandonment. He has many loyal readers who also struggle with "same sex attraction," as its called, to make it sound more medical, more like a disease. They have found a place on the Internet to meet together and share each others stories and offer support in the cold, harsh world that the Church of Jesus offers these people.

After years of genuinely informed inquiry, many aspects of Christianity simply seem improbable to me. I do not believe in the Jesus of the Bible for the same reason I do not believe in Zeus. I do believe, however, that Jesus of Nazareth was a real person. People had a God experience with Jesus when they met him. He had a depth of understanding about the world and the way human beings are to be that caused people's lives to be transformed in a very real way. And he never mentioned a single word about homosexuals. If you are a Christian that has ever spoken ill of gay people, referred to their sex as vile and unloving, their existence as unnatural and an abomination, you should feel deep shame. Jesus would overturn your offering plates and declare that you have made a mockery of his Father's house. Others in your congregation, who hear you say these things, are gay people. You just don't know it. It will depend on their individual journey through the hell you have helped to create for them as to if you ever will.

The man who made that comment to me, a fellow homosexual, is a tragic figure. He is not a douchebag. He is lonely, tired of waking up cold and horny. He has been put through the ringer his whole life and clings to the only things that makes him feel safe. I have more in common with him than I do with many of my closest friends. We have walked down the same road, and somehow arrived at two very different places. He would say that I got lost along the way, and I would gently remind him that he simply has not arrived yet. Every person deserves to be whole. And that includes falling in love, and yes, having sex, with someone wonderful. Even if both of those people have a penis. Those that would deny a person this basic human need, this joy they so often flippantly take for granted, deserve to be exposed for the spineless pharisees that they are.

One of the tenants of Christianity is to be an example to others. "Follow me, as I follow the example of Christ," Saint Paul declares. I feel that same sense of responsibility in my own life. I know that I will live to see the day when homosexuality is no longer an issue for the church. Homophobia will take its rightful place in the grave next to slavery and the combustible engine. All I can do is to do my part. Speak out when I feel it is right, and offer a helping hand to those that are hurting. We all have a role to play in this human problem. Knowing that I will help to leave the world a better place than I found it is the greatest gift I can receive. And I am grateful.

Man, I Feel Like a Woman

When I was in high school, dick tricks were hilarious. One of the funniest things you could do with your penis was to stick it between your legs and walk around like you had a vagina. My friends and I called it “vagina man,” but I am sure that there are multiple names for this phenomenon. I would imagine that cavemen, once they had finished hunting mammoths and warring with neighboring tribes, also did this. I bet Og and Thor would wait until all the cavewomen were out for girls night and the thought just came to them. It is just funny and immature. Men will continue to do this until long after my time on Earth is through.

Now, actually having a vagina is not something that I envy. I can only imagine the kind of maintenance those things require: the annual checkups, the periods, the babies that come out of them. Yikes. However, there is a new perk that comes with having a vagina. You can be John McCain’s running mate. It is apparently the only requirement for the job.

I imagine the letter that was sent out to potential candidates from his vice presidential committee:

Dear Madam,

This is John McCain. Do you have a vagina? Then I want you. Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton have made history with their respective candidacies for president, and I am feeling a little left out. I figure that I can make up for my whopping failures in the coolness department by nominating the first woman to be on a Republican Presidential ticket.

Now I have a slight problem. The Republican Party does not respect women and as a result there are slim pickens in the female department. So, who will answer my call? It’s three a.m. and I’m waiting.

Love, John

Well we are in luck, because Sarah Palin, the first term governor of Alaska and NASCAR enthusiast, has answered the call. Jon Stewart put it brilliantly when he compared her to a cross between Tina Fey and every naughty librarian you see in 80s porn. Beautiful woman, really, but also a little bit crazy.

Now the Republican establishment has lined up like good little soldiers to support this new superstar of Republican stardom. Kay Bailey Hutchison, senior Senator from Texas and most qualified Republican with vagina, was very sweet on Fox News when she said, through gritted teeth, that she knew absolutely nothing about Palin but was excited to see the historic nomination. Pro-lifers have gone into a fetal rights frenzy over her Down’s syndrome child and her pregnant teenage daughter. Look at how she walks the walk while she talks the talk, they say. It’s enough to make you want to get pregnant just so you can have an abortion.

Hillary Clinton was even forced to make a comment that equated to “that’s nice John.” I would have loved to be a fly on the wall when Hill-dog found out about the nomination. I am sure that after the Clinton black rage, hate filled musk had settled she said something along the lines of “I didn’t make 18 million cracks in that glass ceiling for this tramp to come in a steal my thunder.” Or at least that's what she should have said.

Can someone say cat fight? Meow. Oh, it’s so on. Let’s see if Palin is lacking in self awareness enough to mention Hillary’s name in her speech at the Republican Convention next week like she did this week when she made her acceptance speech. Sarah, that bitch will kill you. She’s done a lot more for a lot less.

But Senator Lindsey Graham takes the cake. He said on one of those fair and balanced news shows that “any woman that gets up at three in the morning to hunt moose is OK by me.” Quit hitting the sauce, Lindsey. What a stupid thing to say. I am only impressed if after she’s brought down said moose she guts it with her rock hard nipples from braving the arctic tundra.

Gun rights advocates, who have never been to the Southside of Philly, can’t wait to have her appear on next month’s cover of Guns and Ammo. Republicans, however, should be careful about vice presidents who like to hunt. Dick Cheney, anyone? Although, receiving buckshot in the face from a beautiful woman is a bit more tantalizing than from a dried up, two faced, lying windbag.

All in all, I am thrilled that Sarah Palin is running with John McCain. He could not have picked someone less qualified, more anti-woman, more inexperienced, from a more obscure state, or with a hotter bod. Move over Cindy McCain, there’s a new bimbo in town and she doesn’t get her hair color from a bottle. I cannot wait to see Palin and Biden go at it in the debates. She is probably all the wiser to just stick to the naughty librarian routine and at least make it interesting.

So, fellas, the game has changed. What used to be a white man’s sport is now being played by women and black men. Next time you and your friends are bonding with dick tricks, tuck it in nice and tight. While dick tricks will be around forever, having a vagina now has some new perks!

Another One Rides the Bus

In 1979, my parents had just married. The Soviet Union had just invaded Afghanistan. Jimmy Carter was president. Margaret Thatcher had just become the first female Prime Minister of Great Britain. And the rock band Queen had just recorded their hit single "Another One Bites the Dust."

At the time my mother's former college roommate, who I grew up knowing as a friend of the family, was convinced that the lyrics were "Another One Rides the Bus." This fact I do not believe she has ever fully been able to live down. However, if it had been the name of the song, I would have been the inspiration.

Since moving to Seattle I no longer own a vehicle and I ride the bus on a daily basis. I have been all over the city on various buses at all hours of the day and night. Public transportation sounds very hip and environmental conscious. People who drive cars always talk about how they should take the bus to work, if only the public transit systems were better. Well, in Seattle it is pretty damn good. It does not run on time, but it runs frequently and all over town. Regardless of how efficient a public transit system is however, there are some things that just come with the territory when it comes to riding the bus.

There are three main things that can make or break your bus experience on any given day.

1) The individual riders that are sharing the bus with you.
2) The time of day.
3) The neighborhood you happen to be in or going to.

Let's go through each one, shall we.

First, the people that are on the bus with you can make all the difference as to what the next thirty minutes of your life are going to be like while you get your ass downtown.

I am absolutely floored by the number of people that do not wear deodorant and seem to be completely unaware of the fact that they should. In fact, that it was invented for people just like them. I have been guilty of leaving the house in the morning without slapping it on, but this happens very rarely and is always an oversight. I am very self aware when it come to the fragrance that I am exuding out into the world, but I believe this to be a quality that is not shared equally amongst my fellow human beings.

A crowded bus just has that smell. It is hard to pinpoint exactly, but every one's body odor is a little different. When it mixes all together it creates a smorgasbord of musk that hits you like a ton of bricks. This generally only happens when it is raining and every window in the bus is closed. The very best way of dealing with this is to commence mouth breathing. In and out, in and out.

Also, almost without fail an inebriated person will get on the bus. It's two in afternoon. You can only pray that the only empty seat is not next to yours. This person will talk to you. Or slur to you, rather. At two in the afternoon I am not in the mood to put up with this shit, but you just have to turn your ipod up and bury your head a little deeper in your book. That is what you see a lot on the bus: people making a very concerted effort to make it very clear that they are not open to conversation. The first few days I took the bus I thought this was a bit closed off, even rude. After a month, you understand. Because it is never the pleasant people that will try to strike up a conversation. It's the pre-happy hour drunks.

Which brings me to point number two. It's all in the time of day. I do not mind talking to drunks when I am also drunk, coming home from the bar at one in the morning. They're your peeps, your homeys, and it is an appropriate time to be drunk. Context. Its all about context. The bus drivers are also a bit more inclined to help their passengers during the wee hours of the morning by making the regularly scheduled announcements telling you which stop you are at and which connecting buses come to the same location. There is a real camaraderie on the bus at one in the morning. It's beautiful and it makes you believe that there is hope for humanity. That someday we really will all live in harmony, if only we could all be simultaneously shitfaced on Northwestern microbrew.

Point number three in predicting the quality of bus riding experience you will have has to do with the neighborhoods you will be traveling through. Capitol Hill at 9pm on a weekend is thus far my personal favorite. Capitol Hill is the gayborhood of Seattle, and is much larger and much more diverse than any gayborhood in any other major city I have been to, save San Fran. Around 9pm on the weekend the drag queens, on the way to their shows or just to support the team, begin getting on the 49 bus down Broadway Ave. Some have their face painted up in an extravagant display. Some have their scarfs just so place to hide their protruding Adam's apple. On comes a bear, off comes a twink. The picture is not strange to anyone else except the white boy from Texas.

Downtown, for about 20 square blocks, there is a "free ride area." Now the bus only costs $1.50 round trip, and even less if you have a prepaid card, so I would say that a free ride area is largely unnecessary. But it is there, just in case. The City of Seattle most likely intended it for tourists, and as long as you stay close to the water that is generally what you will find. Husbands and wives arguing about which stop will get them closer to the Space Needle. Knowing the wife has it right, but also knowing better than to get involved.

I think that they should rename this area the "homeless ride area." The panhandlers go from one end of the free ride area, work their way to the other end, and then catch the free bus. It really is the perfect gig. Unlike in other cities that I have been to, the homeless here are really very sweet, well meaning people. They will ask you for money, you will tell them no, and then you can have a fairly descent conversation with them. Very meek, very humble. The State of Washington within the last 10 years cut many public mental health benefits, and as a result there was an immediate increase in the homeless population in Seattle. This is what happens when Republicans are in power. It comes with the territory.

Riding the bus is an exhilarating experience. I wake up every day and think, "I wonder what crazy characters I am going to come into contact with today." Because you will, and I do. Everyone here, at some time or another and with varying degrees of pleasure, rides the bus. It is part of the culture, but that means it involves EVERYONE. And, as we know, not all people get along, or want to be in a closely confined vehicle with Jim Beam at two in the afternoon. Perhaps Freddie Mercury was a musical genius of our time, but he could have had one more hit had he only written a song about all the people on the bus.

It's all about me.

It has been many months since my last blog, and many things have changed in my life since that time. Now, traditionally I do not blog about myself. I find it boring to write and probably equally boring to read, but I do feel as though a blog about myself and what I am up to these days is called for.

On July 30th I left Nacogdoches, Texas for the last time and drove across the state to Lubbock to spend five days with my family there. I must say that I never realized Keaton, my cat, was such hooligan in the car. What should have taken me all of 9 hours took me 12. Thank you dear Keaton, and I promise to never take you on a long journey in the car again.

I had moved to Nacogdoches in the summer of 2004 to go to Stephen F. Austin State University, and stayed there 18 months after graduation to work on Business Development for the coffee company I worked for as an undergrad. I was musing recently about the personal growth that happened to me while I lived there.

When I arrived, I had just finished a stint with Youth With a Mission (YWAM) in Tijuana, Mexico building houses. I can build a wicked four wall house with a roof and an outhouse. A good skill to have, I suppose, if you are ever caught in say...Tijuana, Mexico. I was, to say the least, completely entrenched in Evangelical Christianity. I had spent the previous year in New Zealand and India converting Hindus to Jesus, which surprisingly is not hard. They already believe in 300 million gods, what's the harm in 300 million and 1?

Evangelical Christianity has its moments. I mean, you get to go to heaven and hang out with the big JC for all eternity. Also, the music within the last five years or so has become incredibly cutting edge. When I was growing up, Christian music was simply not as cool as secular music. No longer the case; quite an improvement to say the least. However, it has its downsides as well. Unfortunately for me, Evangelicals do not believe in homosexuals. They believe in a personification of evil that rules the underworld, but gays are like unicorns.

Now, I should explain a bit further. According to the handbook, gay people are not real. There is such a thing, however, as "struggling with homosexuality." If you happen to be one of the unlucky people that suffer from said affliction you do have some options. First, you can pledge yourself celibate and marry Jesus, retreating further back into the closet until you find Narnia. Many people do this. Or, you can subject yourself to demonic exorcism. I chose the latter.

I realize that for many people this sounds totally insane, and it is. However, in my defense I lived in a world where this seemed like my only option. This process is very similar to the popular "reparitive therapy" that is practiced by fundamentalist Christian organizations like Exodus Ministries in the United States. To put it in layman's terms they claim that they can change your sexual orientation through a series of sessions where you do plenty of bizarre role playing. If you are really that interested you can youtube it.

So, when I arrived in Nacogdoches this had been my existence for the previous two years. It's a hellish place to be, but as I have learned suffering produces beautiful things in people who make their way through it. Nacogdoches was my cocoon. I arrived there a deeply closeted, self loathing, very confused young adult and emerged quite differently. I suppose a butterfly would be an appropriate analogy, but that's kind of gay.

That's where I've been. Here is where I am. On August 4th I moved to Seattle, Washington. Holy shit. This city is absolutely amazing and full of people that are just like me. Seattle is known for some of the best weather during the summer of any place in the country. Today it was 72 degrees, 5 mph breeze, not a cloud in the sky, and snow capped peaks on all sides. A nice change from East Texas in August. We'll see how I feel in January when I have not seen the sun for two months.

Seattle is also the most intelligent city in the country. I suppose this is determined by the percentage of the population that is college educated. Art, literature, poetry readings, tasty food, Buddhist meditation centers, and beautiful gay men abound in this place. What's not to love? I feel so...blessed.

I cannot wait to see what turns my life is going to take while being up here. In retrospect, everything that has happened to me in my life is an accumulation leading me to this moment. And truthfully, that is all we ever have. This moment, right now.

Alright, that wasn't so bad, but don't expect any more blogs about me. I am going to pick this whole blogging thing back up. I encounter crazy and funny shit everyday in this place and I think, "that would make the perfect blog entry." So, be ready. It's about to get really fun!

The Sky Is Falling!

I encountered two seemingly different points of view today on the subject of the end of the world. It is of interest to those of us who used to believe a certain way about things, and have since entered a Renaissance.

The first subject is that of Pastor John Hagee, and what he is spouting about the End Times. Hagee is a mega-church evangelical pastor in San Antonio that has in large part taken over the terrible void that was left in the evangelical community when Jerry Falwell died, may he rest in relative discomfort. Hagee is seen by tens of thousands of rapture enthusiasts each week, on top of his 19,000 member church congregation. Now, his public statements have come under some scrutiny since he has publicly endorsed John McCain for President. Here are some of my all time favorites:

"Most readers will be shocked by the clear record of history linking Adolf Hitler and the Roman Catholic Church in a conspiracy to exterminate the Jews." - from his book, Jerusalem Countdown.

"All hurricanes are acts of God because God controls the heavens. I believe that New Orleans had a level of sin that was offensive to God and they were recipients of the judgment of God for that." -Interview with NPR

"I don't believe in global warming. " -Interview with CNN, October 12, 2007

So, this guy is clearly a great resource to get all your up to date End Times news, right? While I have not actually read one of his books, I pretty sure I catch his drift. I am sitting there listening to him talk about the End Times. The basic drift of his message is this: There is going to be an earthquake of all earthquakes and a great nuclear holocaust in Israel. Then the Antichrist is going to come into the world, get shot in the head and come back to life, implant us all with microchips, and create a one world government and religion that is going to somehow be antithetical to whatever Jesus wants. And, if you don't believe him, he will ensure you that is all in the Bible. I can't remember whether or not the Christians are getting raptured before or after this happens. I am amazed that there are enough people that are into this shit that there is a thriving End Times industry out there that gives this nut the time of day, but I guess it takes all kinds.

Hagee has all sorts of clever ways of taking obscure passages of the Bible out of context and then twisting them to support his fairy tale. He was able, by the end of the interview, to support his view that the Bible says Russia will enter into another Cold War with the United States for control of the oil reserves in the Middle East. Excuse me, what? I would love to play this guy in a game of RISK. I would kick his Bible thumpin' ass.

The idea of oil brings us to the second subject I was confronted with today. There are a growing number of voices in the scientific community that are warning the general public about the reality of what is called "peak oil." Basically "peak oil" refers to the time in the relatively near future when global oil production will peak, and everyday after that humans will pull less and less oil out of the ground. There does not seem to be a good consensus about when this will happen, but almost certainly in my lifetime.

Now, it is important to remember that "peak oil" is not the same as being out of oil. But as demand will only increase due to population and development, particularly in young global economies like India, when oil production peaks supply will decrease every single day after that. So, when demand overtakes supply and the gap keeps getting wider and wider by the day...well, I won't get into the specifics. If you don't understand the problem that this causes, go ask John Hagee.

Everything in our life has been built around the idea that we have an endless supply of cheap energy. It keeps our food supply fully stocked and cheap, makes international trade and travel possible, allows us to heat and cool our homes, and is literally the driving force of the economy. So, as I am watching this program I realize that this scientist on the television is talking about the exact same thing as Homo-hater Hagee: The end of civilization as we know it.

Now, if I was a betting man, I would say that the peak oil people are probably a little closer to reality. I mean everyone can admit that fossil fuels, which come from millions of years of biological decomposition, are a non-renewable resource. So, there is a finite amount of oil on the planet, and we are getting much closer to when our production will peak. And, we have not done our homework in advance to switch seamlessly into a form of renewable energy to keep up with our present usage or future demand. Shit.

So, when we can no longer get into our cars to travel to work, and the food can no longer get from place to place to fill the grocery store, and people can no longer use the same amount of electricity, and when there is a drought you will die of thirst, it will certainly be a different time. But, will this be the tribulation Pastor Hagee speaks about? Not unless the first 15,000 years of human history without oil were just one long, clusterfuck of tribulation. But, you can rest assured that is precisely what people like John Hagee will be telling their loyal followers.

Does it still count as the End Times if you can see the potential disaster coming and choose to continuing living in such a way that is causing it to come faster? What if the problem is not God's wrath on all the feminists and Palestinians, but rather on society's addiction to dirty, non-renewable energy?

A few possible solutions have been suggested to deal with the peak oil crisis. One is to begin to restructure cities and small towns to operate in smaller units. Have every neighborhood provide an economy unto itself in order to provide society with all the essentials of food, water, shelter, and employment all within walking distance of the neighborhood. No car, very limited trade. Any way you cut it, all the solutions deal with cutting back on economic growth while humans perfect the technology of renewable energy to be able to cope with the global future demand.

However, End Timers like John Hagee, consistently point to the certain "signs" of the End Times. Here are a short list of those signs:

1)The rebirth of Israel
2)The invention of the nuclear weapon
3)The invention of international television
4)The Ease of international travel
5)The rise of a global economy
6) The Marvelous Inter-web.

All these things in combination are going to work together to bring about the type of environment where the Antichrist can take control of every single person on the planet, Hagee argues. The Perfect Storm, as it were.

One small problem. If the "peak oil" people are right about this peak oil stuff, then humans are going to experience a problem in being able to keep all these lovely modern advances running cheaply enough to provide them to everybody. The Perfect Storm has just turned South, missing the point completely! Suddenly a large portion of the world's population stops receiving a television signal, and only the very wealthy will be able to afford a plane ticket to another country. Some are even predicting it will be worse.

So, it looks like Hagee might be jumping the gun with the whole Antichrist thing. But shit, he's got to say something or his sheep will stop listening. End Times doom and gloom is big business. And the best part of it is that it's all emotional based sensationalism, so it stands up very well against, say, scientific evaluation. So, when the problems start with the worldwide shortage of energy and all the additional side effects, you will hear people like Hagee saying things like "see, I told you so."

When that time comes, I will pull out this blog, written in 2008, and recall my own version of prophecy. Then, I will turn off the television, which isn't getting a signal anyway, put on my walking shoes, and go out there to campaign for the highest position in the land: President of my local township!

Warning: Reading this may cause cancer.

Every time you crack open an ice cold beer or reach for that pack of smokes, you are reminded by the authority of the Surgeon General of the United States, that your activities could have hazardous effects on your health. A variety of pleasurable activities are consistently deemed "risky" or "dangerous" by the government. And the purpose of all of this is so that you, as an adult, can make an informed decision about what you are getting yourself into. However, there is a governmental warning missing off of a very important activity that millions of Americans perform each week: fundamentalist religion.

If the government called me up and asked me to formulate a warning label which was to be stuck into the preface of all religious texts (including, but not limited to the Bible, the Koran, the Torah, the Joel Osteen books, Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Papal Decrees, Mel Gibson movies, and O Magazine) it would read something like this: The Surgeon General has concluded that believing every word in this book came directly from God can cause difficulty functioning in the real world. Risks include, but are not limited to, delusions of grandeur, actively preparing yourself to be raptured, inability to reconcile reality with your world view, the acquisition of an imaginary friend, and your inability to understand those that you love most.

I think that would adequately describe the symptoms of someone who thinks that their way is the only way to understand God, or the world, or love, or war, or peace, or the afterlife. However, the illness lays dormant for some time before the symptoms appear. The symptoms are generally brought up upon some sort of world view conflict where the stakes are too high to keep ignoring the inconsistencies. Unfortunately, the longer you have held these beliefs and the more time, money, and effort you have invested into your way being the "divine truth," the harder the fall.

Every fundamentalist at some point is going to have to come to terms with the fact that they have been lied to. Lied to by their spiritual leader, the manipulation of their holy book, and their community of friends that constantly reinforced their belief system. Religion takes perfectly kindhearted, well meaning individuals, and turns them into propaganda and recruitment soldiers for the cause. And, just like terrorists, religious leaders use extreme fear to influence the behavior of the general population. Although, the threat of burning in hell for all eternity is a bit more extreme and painful than any terrorist attack the world has yet seen.

Perhaps the worst part of all of this, is that it is done under the guise that somehow they are speaking for God. Fuck you guys! I am pretty sure that if God was to talk to people, it would not be these people. And to top it all off, spiritual leaders are self appointed ideologues that claim to be sent by God. That has got to piss Him off! However, he truly must be patient and loving, because for more than 4000 years he has allowed these psychopaths to mistake their personal reservations about human behavior and quest for political power as His words. When you're convinced that God conveniently hates all the same things that you hate, rest assured that you're an asshole.

Having a strong sense of spirituality is to be praised. Feeling a connection to the source of all life is a divine thing. Religion, however, is toxic. And it will eventually catch up to you. So, next time you see a "God Hates Fags" sign, or hear some right wing nut going on about how God is crying about all the aborted babies, or that catastrophic disasters are God's judgment on those who do not believe the same way that they do, feel free to extend your middle finger. I mean, it is your God given right.

And remember, next time you pick up that bible, or step into that church or mosque: fundamentalist religion may be hazardous to your health.