woe is me, cries the creationist

“Woe, woe is me,” cries the creationst! “O, vexed the life that spurns reason!”

Once upon a time I let creationist questions get the better of me. Ever since my life has been hardship and suffering.

I can’t maintain a career because employers keep letting me go. They don’t believe entropy makes heat disperse throughout the whole patty, so it isn’t necessary to flip the burgers. Imagine how much labor could be saved!

My marriage is in shambles. My wife keeps threatening to leave unless I give her reasons for everything. Reasons, schmeasons. “Because I said so” is good enough for the kids, why isn’t it good enough for her?

Movies don’t make sense to me. How’d all those people in The Matrix fall asleep with metal spikes in their heads? If rule number one is that no one talks about Fight Club, how’d they know to make a movie about it? And if the One Ring was so powerful, why didn’t Frodo slip it on and kill the bad guys?

My financial portfolio is a disaster. The calculator said I owed the IRS a quarter million dollars, even though I clear barely a tenth of that in a year. But God gave me the calculator, and I’m sure He knew what he was doing. I took out a loan so I could write the IRS a check. You wouldn’t believe the interest the bank is charging me. But that’s okay – every day I buy a lottery ticket and pray over it. God’ll fix it up soon. Besides, my calculator tells me my odds improve with every ticket I buy.

Then there’s doctors. They insist on drawing my blood, but I know better: a little blood here, a little there, and before long I’ll be bone dry. Oh, and they can’t fool me with that antibiotics placebo, either – I know bacteria are the devil’s lie.

One doctor wanted to remove my appendix. “Surgery?” I said. “I don’t take part in sodomy!” No one shoves their body parts – hands, feet or whatever – into any parts of mine; homos go straight to hell. So I get all my medical care from magnets. I keep trying to convince the hospital to put the MRI in reverse, but they won’t do it, so I have to keep using those water massage coffins at the mall.

I didn’t realize creationism would mean I’d have to reject all the sciences, but it does, and that has its own troubles. I ripped the electrical wires out of my home because I don’t trust fire running through the walls. I’m never sure if gravity will drag the water down every time I flush; with a lot of prayer it’s been okay so far. Seasons are frustrating – I keep writing Congress to repeal Daylight Savings Time because I’m sick of shoveling snow. Cold, hot, cold, hot: according to the Flat Earth Society it’s nothing but a conspiracy to fuel the economy. And what’s with mirrors, anyway? Spooky.

Speaking of mirrors, if creationism has done me any favors, it’s opened my eyes to realities that scientists reject. Like the ghost that keeps ringing the bell in my telephone. And those UFOs that keep passing overhead. And fairies, referenced too often in literature to be myth. A few fairies have contacted me in my dreams, so I’m destined to meet one in person. I’ll take photos to prove the Smithsonian wrong.

I wince every time I read the Bible ’cause I never know what huge sacrifice it’ll ask me to make. My hands caused me to sin so I cut off the left one, but then I didn’t have a hand to cut off the right. Every day I lug a heavy wooden cross around my neighborhood ‘cause that’s what Jesus would do. I’m still working on fitting a camel through the eye of a needle, but I doubt even a thorough dicing will work – and then how will I get into heaven?

“Woe, woe is me,” cries the creationst! “O, vexed the life that spurns reason!” Nothing works right, nothing makes sense, and there’s certainly no place for me in the world. But I know the ultimate sign of faith is to reject rational thinking as the devil’s tool. It’s a ponderous sacrifice but I make it anyway, hoping in exchange for an eternity of harps and wings.

Since I don’t know how the internets work, I’m paying a web design firm ten thousand dollars (another high-interest loan) to transmit this warning. I can only pray it will make it through all those underground tubes to reach you. No matter what you do, don’t allow yourself to ask questions about evolution, like I did. Your brain just might fall apart.

(Written by a creationist.)

Tags: creationism, evolution, science