The Opinion "God really wants to hang out with you for eternity after you shuffle off your mortal coil" has died. God wants to do no such thing. As a matter of fact, God is so profoundly depressed by the prospect of being forced to listen to the endless chattering of millions of mind-bogglingly stupid people as to be suicidal--God has already written the goodbye note and begun buying essentials on credit cards, as God has no intention of making good on any purchases after the pills kick in.
The Opinion was born back when humans wanted to be liked and loved by just about anything that wasn't trying to eat them. We wanted our dogs to love us, and if the cats didn't shred the loveseat that was proof enough that the felines were all goo-goo about us: we were the useful idiots who fed them and cleaned up their hairballs and feces, etc. We had a function that produced dependence, if not actual love, but no matter: humans wanted to be loved almost as much as we wanted to fight and be petty and cruel and abusive. If love didn't come quickly to our ancestors they would rapidly devolve into irritated guttersnipes in a heartbeat, all claws and screaming and cussing--like Dallas on a Saturday night. When our ancestors did construct a personal deity (designed to give their spiritual resume a much desired boost) it was only natural that the deity love them most especially--that the God in question would coincidentally hate the tribes that they hated was icing on the ego pie. God's hatred of people different from us made everyone feel even more loved. Good times.
As of this writing, friends and family of the Opinion are in a foul mood, searching about for new enemies to rail against, for new foes to bomb and hack to pieces, new evidence that some elitist academic is jerking their chain with fancy, recondite thoughts and such, and that's as it should be. A service for the late Opinion is tentatively scheduled for next week, but don't expect God to show up: the one true lord is not looking forward to any more company, thank you very much, so don't come knocking on the door anytime soon. God suggests that in lieu of flowers everybody could just shut the fuck up and go to hell.
Happy Goddamn New Year!
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The Opinuary Column appears every Friday at Jesus' General.
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