Truant Memphis
Pages From The Filling Station

He's Beginning to Believe

4/23/2019

 
Maybe there is some wicked Illuminati Billionaire Preppers Club getting ready for a climate apocalypse. I doubt 45 is in on the plans. Hims a tacky puppet him is. But, maybe a few of these ultra-wealthy global humanity board-game players realize the United States is about to shrink. If they want to comfortably survive climate catastrophe in their cushy Midwest bunkers, they don't want a bunch of poor foreigners banging on their doors.

Nope, nope. Best to keep them in their under-developed regions of the world where they will be easily wiped out by Mother Nature. The culling is the writing on the wall. Why try to prevent it? It's gonna happen anyway. Thus, fucktards scramble for enough wealth to make the I Will Survive team, while most of those that are already in the club appear to approach the oncoming madness with a, "Let's just make this shit worse and get the whole thing over with," attitude, like a coal-powered-yacht buying Slim Pickens riding a nuke.
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Second Fuckalonians Chapter 1, Verses 1-5

4/1/2019

 
Everywhere I go, I’m the problem. No less true today than the first time I had this realization over a decade ago. I’m the problem. Why? I’m not certain. Perhaps I simply take this entire situation too seriously.

I was raised in the Southern Baptist Church. Thus, I was indoctrinated at an early age that this is serious business. Life is serious business. We’re all in a battle for our very souls. Our very souls! An eternity in heaven or hell. Choose your weapon wisely. Maybe this is my problem. Apparently, I was highly susceptible to training. I was highly susceptible to feeling special. God chose me? Nice.

Now I’m middle aged and weary. Tired of hedging my spiritual bets. Tired of watching everything I was taught to believe in continue to crumble away. For the time being, to define the scope, let’s refer to the Golden Rule as the gist of everything I was taught to believe in.

With the Golden Rule, along with the rest of the loving teachings of Jesus downloaded into my fleshy brain goo, I walked away from religion years ago, probably around the same time I first thought to myself, “Everywhere I go, I’m the problem.” Of course, despite having walked away from the religion that helped train me into believing I was a spiritual being, I’m still formed by those teachings. The program files are still running in my brain goo cpu. My heart’s desire to be good, to do good, to protect my soul against an eternity of damnation, that desire still rules my existence. Again, I call it hedging my spiritual bets.

Back to point, perhaps I take this whole situation too seriously. I look around at a world that appears to have lost its collective mind. Even those screaming into the wind that none of this is as it should be have likely given into lunacy (at least on some level), in order to survive all this nonsense. I’m certain I have. Why Bob, why?
 

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