On this, the (ass)holiest of days...

Well, it's here. And it couldn't have come on a better day. It's Sunday. And the subject of religion will finally be discussed. As I believe I've mentioned, I'd been looking for a way to bridge the subject, and lo and behold, it's a preacher who gives me the reason. As a guy once said: "Holy shit!"

Nicholas Peck was drinking in a sports bar called Half Time in Deland, Florida early last Saturday morning when he was confronted by Minister Barnard Courtney, Jr. Courtney apparently called Peck a sinner, and Peck took exception to this. He got into a scuffle with Courtney and delivered a headbutt. Now, whether or not the man was drunk is a non-issue. It's none of Minister Fuckhead's business what Peck does with his time. I'm thinking what the minister needs is a hobby that doesn't involve promoting cultural illiteracy. Not only that, police in the area say it's the latest in an increase in disputes between street preachers and bar patrons. What?! This shit actually goes on somewhere?! Who the fuck do these ministers, preachers, reverends think they are? If I want to be saved, I'll call 911, thanks.

As you can probably gather, I'm not a religious person. I do not believe in a higher power that rules a paradise in the sky, nor do I believe in an evil deity that rules a pit of fire beneath our feet. I'm not saying religion is a bad thing. If it weren't for religion, half the wars in history would never have been fought, and war's good for the economy, right? If it weren't for religion, the Catholic church wouldn't have had several young boys to sexually abuse and consequently add a little cash to said boys' bank accounts. And certainly Dan Brown wouldn't be where he is today if it weren't for religion. Oh, and I guess it also gives believers comfort in times of need, and sinners who repent on their deathbeds hope that they'll live forever. I, personally, think it's all bullshit. If a few of the relatives I no longer speak to were to read this, I'd get phone calls and e-mails and texts and letters out the poop-shoot for saying these things. See, for a time, when I was much younger, I was raised Catholic (I am, after all, Irish). I was even given a copy of the longest and bestselling fictional short story collection ever written (uhh, that's the Bible, Roundtowners) embossed with my name. So I've received the message, and chosen to ignore it in favor of common-fucking-sense. Did you know the majority of scientists believe there are four distinct types of parallel universes? That same majority does not believe a god exists. Get that? More scientists believe there's an evil Spock with a goatee somewhere out there than believe an old guy in a white robe and sandals is waiting to spank us if we misbehave!

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those guys who's going to tell you that going to church on Sunday is a waste of time. In fact, I like that a few of the assholes aren't driving around town when I'm gathering supplies for the day's football games. I AM going to tell you to keep it to yourself. I occasionally hear the phrase "I'll pray for you" when something bad happens like a family member dies or some other tragedy. I think this is very kind, and it's very much appreciated. It means someone cares about me enough to take the time to include me in something they do, perhaps, every day. I would never DREAM of saying to that person "Save it, honey, there's no god, and if you were half as intelligent as I look, you'd drop the religious act and get yourself to the nearest pub and have a few screwdrivers and maybe even take a screw-driver home and fuck him in the bed you share with your husband because clearly he's not getting the job done if you have nothing better to do than pray for a guy you don't really know all that well, and hey, I'm not doing anything right now, why don't I join you for that drink and I'll take care of you myself?" Why, then, do the Jesus-freaks think it's okay to speak to strangers of religion? What makes it alright for them to try to "save" me, but it's not alright for me to try to educate them about why the concept of the existence of a god is no more than a fairy tale? Because it's their right to believe. And it's my right not to believe. One of us is correct in our beliefs, and the others are food for worms and just won't accept the fact.

Back to Peck and Courtney. Steve Irwin, the crocodile guy, went swimming with stingrays and was stabbed in the heart. He died. Dawn Brancheau, the sea world trainer, got in a tank with Tilikum, a killer whale linked to two other human deaths. She died. Timothy Treadwell, the bear activist, thought of the grizzly bears he was studying as his "friends" and lived in close proximity to them in a tent. He AND his girlfriend died, mauled and eaten by the very bears he was trying to protect. My point is, if you put yourself in a dangerous situation, you deserve whatever happens to you. Harsh? Maybe. True? Absolutely! And Courtney did just that when he decided to preach sin to a man exiting a bar, a man he didn't know from (HA!) Adam, didn't know how many drinks he'd had or whether he was a mean or violent man when he drank. He got what he deserved. He should count his blessings it wasn't worse than a few bumps and bruises.

And that, friends, is the Gospel of Mick.