Sunday, February 1, 2009

Pillow talk is hell

[Scene: early Sunday morning at the Happy Kitten Highrise. Guy and Pixie are procrastinating getting out of bed. Maddy and Hazel yowl from the other room that it's time for treats.]

Pixie: So how's your new project team working out?
Guy: You know Mackenzie?
Pixie: Yeah, nice enough gal. What about her?
Guy: We went to lunch the other day, and she's Jewish, and her husband's...I dunno, some kind of Christian, and neither of them will back down, so they're gonna raise their kids as both and let them choose which they wanna be when they're eighteen.
Pixie: Hm. Uh-huh. So they're, uh...
Guy: Man, I knew religion wasn't for me when I was nine. Fuck waiting til I was eighteen.
Pixie: Indeed? How did you know when you were nine?
Guy: I asked my mom what was the deal with Catholicism. Did it all basically come down to faith? And she said yeah. And that's when I knew it wasn't for me, when the bottom line is, "Just trust me, just believe me, and go along with the rules we think are the best rules."
Pixie: [thoughful] Hm.
Guy: I mean, if that's all there is to it, then it's no better than Dungeons and Dragons.
Pixie: [sitting up off her pillow] What?! Baaahahahaa!!
Guy: Seriously. You get dressed up in special clothes to go to a ceratin place to behave under a very specific set of rules for an hour or so, but at least when you leave your buddy's basement after playing D&D, you know it's all a game and it's back to reality.
Pixie: [falling over onto Guy's chest] BAAAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!
Guy: What? Are you laughing at me or the analogy?
Pixie: I'm laughing at--so, instead of water in the baptismal font--
Guy: --there's a twenty-sided die. You roll it and it tells you what pew to sit in. Then you roll a six-sided die and multiply the number you get by five, and that's what you put in the collection plate.
Pixie: [still laughing] I love the notion of walking into church with a two-handed dwarven axe--
Guy: If you walk into early service with a two-handed dwarven axe, you get plus-five Jesus points.
Pixie: BAAHAHAAA!! So I guess the priest has to have plus-ten mage points or he can't run the service that day?
Guy: Right.
Pixie: [wheezing with laughter] ...and your penance at confession is to do the Dragon Canyon run without magic armor and an orc-detecting blade... [still laughing] ...two-handed dwarven axe...
Guy: [shrugging and absent-mindedly playing with Pixie's hair] It's not any weirder than a virgin birth and the resurrection.

3 comments:

ms. kitty said...

That's sort of what I thought too, when I got to an age when I could actually think. Great post, Pixie.

Wilderness Gina said...

BWAHAHAHAHA!!! Yep. As one of the disenfranchized (sp) Boomers, that's what it's all about. And I prefer a double handed sword, thank you very much. Like the six footer I saw in the Tower of London back in 1966. I can get the physical body I want, right? The gods know I couldn't lift one with the back I have for real.
Guy, you RULE!!!

Anonymous said...

raising kids "both" is a crock and sure to confuse. Kids will more likely pick a cult, than later choose one of their two parents' religions. Pick one, and pass it down. Let the kids learn respect for other religions, not the practice (polytheism?) of other religions.