And by fantasy world, I mean a country that exists only in my imagination in which people base their opinions on common sense, equality and level-headed judgment. A fictitious realm where there are no religious zealots screaming prophecies from soap boxes claiming the end of the world is nigh, just like they did ten years ago, twenty years ago, two thousand years ago. In this fantasy world all religions are respected by all religions in a live-and-let-live environment and there are no Billy Grahams spinning sacred religious texts to push a political agenda that usually includes undying support for Israel.
But then I see a woman in Wal-Mart with a t-shirt that says “My Posse’s Ready for Spiritual Warfare” and I wake up in a cold sweat, trembling in fear reaching for my mommy’s veiny, lactating breast. I am forced to return to a reality where Americans desperately clutch a Precious Moments version of Christianity where a Caucasian Jesus in a white robe and flowing beard looks over us with a loving smile and a gentle hand and plays sports with our kids and occasionally rides bulls. I am forced to snap back to reality and smell the holy water.
I give the American people too much credit. I naïvely assume we are moving, as a nation, toward an era where fundamentalism is overpowered by knowledge and acceptance of everyone, not just those the Bible says we should accept. I assume the American public is becoming more aware of religious intolerance on a global scale. I assume people will recognize a politician rooted in a corrupt, misguided version of Christianity and determine her as the absolute last thing America needs. But you know what happens when we assume.
I’m going back to my fantasy world now. It’s totally better than this one.
Wake me up when the Flying Spaghetti Monster has come to take us Pastafarians back home.
