PGHIMC - Pittsburgh Independent Media Center

Lobotomize the Fools or How I Can No
by SAA Monday, Aug. 01, 2005 at 4:05 PM

Sure to offend and titilate. I said tit.

Like most other disaffected young adults, I went to Catholic school. There I learned wonderful tenets such as:

ª God made a lot more personal appearances at the beginning of time than he does now.

ª The only good woman is a virgin.

ª Eve messed it up for everyone.

ª Never do face to face confession, because the priest’s breath smells like crazy garlic.

ª Stations of the cross equals get out of school 20 minutes early!

ª Most nuns are disgruntled lesbians.

ª Most priests are alcoholics (when they aren’t molesting children).

ª The communion wafers would be bomb with a side of ranch



But I digress. I have long since let go of any sort of spirituality in lieu of pure unadulterated nihilism. Mostly because of the 8 years I put in at Catholic school. Quite honestly, it was the scariest, most insecure time in my entire life. I was ridiculed by classmates for choosing to read in my free time (even in my youthful naiveté, it seemed a bit odd that I would be teased for expanding my mind), harangued by faculty for asking too many questions, and basically told that different was bad. I actually had a teacher, a former nun, no less, use the term “Jew it down”, meaning to decrease the price, much to my chagrin. This same teacher used to derive uncalculated joy by picking a part some of her less capable students. Many a class, I watched her chisel away at some poor sap’s self esteem, until they were verging on tears, and the rest of the room breathed a collective sigh of relief that we did not incur such wrath upon ourselves. Although I did, many a time, I always felt that I had the intelligence to see through the charade of piety and self righteous rhetoric.

And that’s all Catholicism is, one big calculated show, with pageantry and glitz to disguise the fact that it is inherently empty and hypocritical. Take Jesus, for instance. Although it goes with out saying that I don’t believe such a person has ever existed, in the realm of Catholicism, Jesus is the go to guy. According to the bible, Jesus was a big old hippie, preaching peace and tolerance, love and understanding. A virtual freedom fighter, in the vein of Che Guevara, fighting for the little guy and sacrificing all to help his people. Now who isn’t down with a guy like that? But the rub is that Catholics tend to offer this version of Jesus with one hand while beating you senseless with the eternal damnation cross hook.

Ahhh, hell. That glorious getaway for the damned, the asylum for the sinful, the devil’s playground. Clever euphemisms aside, I have been told many a time that this fiery inferno would no doubt be my final resting place. Of course, I take this as a backhanded compliment, but who do these people think they are? Do they posses some sort of direct line to god, how do they know I am going to hell? I’ve never killed anyone, or ate human flesh, or sacrificed an animal in some sort of weird pagan sex act. If I’m going to hell, then we’re certainly all doomed.

Does not eating meet on Friday during lent make you a better person? By going to church every Sunday, sitting ramrod straight (we were always told that if Jesus could hang on that cross for hours, we certainly could sit up straight for 45 minutes) and actually paying attention, will I get into heaven? What if I don’t like Amy Grant? Or that crazy Indian preacher? Then am I doomed?

The best part about Catholic mass? The incense, those aforementioned wafers, and all the creepy statues. The worst part about Catholic mass? The sit-kneel-stand-kneel aerobics and the sermon. If I recall, that’s the part where the priest would attempt some humor or sincerity, and try to relate to average people who work for a living and have sex with living, breathing human beings (not their hand or a Kleenex box). I cannot recall a single sermon from my Catholic days. I was usually to busy pretending I was a fighter pilot on the moon or the greatest actor in the world.

I needed a Catholic colon cleansing for me brain after this debacle of education. Fortunately, I went to an alternative high school with tons of gay people and stoners, who put me on the right path. Now I am a pseudo-nihilist (if such a thing exists), suffering from grand delusions that I am the bastard child of Socrates and Joan of Arc. Yes, I do see the irony in that statement. No, I won’t shut up. The point I would make if I still had any short term memory left is, after millions of years of human existence, we have yet to get this religion thing sorted out. As we speak, wars are being waged over imaginary men in the sky. Since we are not responsible enough to worship the deity of our choice privately and personally, while at the same time respecting others who worship differently, I feel we should lose the right to worship, period.

Just because you are born again (I’m talking to you, Mel Gibson, George W. Bush, and any other moral blowhard) does not mean I care to hear your convoluted ideas about morality. Morality is vague at best and highly overrated. Hitler probably thought he was a real humanitarian. It’s all relative, baby.

To those evil nuns at Immaculate Conception, my hellish alma mater, I’d like you to know that you did not break me. You did not instill fear in me, you did not ruin me, you did not fill me with self hatred like the other girls. You did not convince me that the only way to happiness was to get married and knocked up (not necessarily in the order). You did not make me hate those who are different than me; you did not make me strive only for heavenly rewards. You made me one sick bastard, with a love for gore and violence. You made me the consummate rebel and underdog. You lit the fire that will never go out. And for that, I sincerely thank you.