One of my favorite post-work/pre-drink activities is to watch Kevin Smith movies. Exhausted, usually emotionally drained and aching for a bevy of the alcohol variety (occupational hazard), nothing lifts my spirits nor gets the hamsters that motivate my brain wires to running… more then the comedic genius of one Kevin Smith. Sure, Jay and Silent Bob tell a lot of “dick and fart” jokes, but the satire of his scripts is dark and clever. I get him. My adoration is deep enough that it may perhaps result in a blog post of its own, but of course I digress…
Recently, after an exceptionally long shift I came home looking for a good glass of wine and a belly laugh. After mulling through my DVD library and passing over other favorites such as SuperBad or Scott Pilgrim, I landed on Kevin Smith’s Dogma. Have you ever seen Dogma my loverlies? It is marvelous. It is all about Catholicism and the principles that Church has laid down as being inconvertibly true. He takes no prisoners and walks away without apology (except to the platypus) as he creates his own take on the Devine. As previously stated, Mr. Smith’s particular brand of humor gets my hamsters on their wheel and as I giggled out loud over what can only be described as sheer brilliance, I couldn’t help but reflect on my own ideas about #Catholics and #Catholicism.
Rich in history… violence… power, I have always found favor in #Catholicism even though I don’t believe in God – or more specifically The Baby Jesus. I will concede to my religious friends and admit my life would probably be a whole lot easier if I did believe in Him. Still… even without Baby Jesus… the papal stance on women’s rights… birth control… the pedophilia … the pervi dress wearing clergymen… there is a lot to be said about #Catholicism.
Sophia Vergara is a devout #Catholic. She is open and honest about her love of the faith and her God. Anything Sophia does or believes in… I am down with. The woman is a complete goddess physically with perfect measurements at 32-28-29 to boot. She flaunts her curves… fancies her heritage and makes no issue of the fact that her celebrity is cause for much humour (dress malfunctions… and celebrity mean tweets. I am also pretty sure Sophia has Mafia in her blood… not to stereotype but she fits the mold to a T… and we all know how devout the Mafia is to the #Catholic Church. And really… what’s not to love about the Mafia… they invented drive by shootings, organized crime and brought gambling to the United States en masse giving us places like Vegas and Atlantic City where we can drown ourselves in mortal sins and then go to Church on Sunday, confess and be right as rain with the Father, Son and the Baby Jesus again.
As a girl who thinks glitz and glamour are the next best things to slice bread… I of course think it is incredible and inspiring the way #Catholic churches drip with both. Have you ever seen Vatican City?! Opulence…. glitter… candles… gold… I mean if I am going to be forced into a church for a funeral, wedding or baptism, I want something to distract me from the boring, cult like ceremony I am supposed to be engrossed in. With the #Catholics, there is no shortage of diversions… from old twisted European priests who sound like they collectively hail from Transylvania when they speak in their perfect Latin to frankincense and gold goblets. Stain glass scenes that shine hues of perky yellows and roses over your yawning face, while depicting crucifixion and betrayal in happy Rainbow Brite type lighting. The beautiful ornate pews made for perfect comfort and accessibility to do the kneeling and standing that the vampire priest directs you to do in a trussed up game of “Simon Says”(for atheists like me this of course means refusing to kneel or stand but rather to sit like a catatonic asshat while the young and ancient alike, attempt to grovel en mass to a man in a dress…).
Finally as a self proclaimed fashionista of sorts (I used to watch The Hills… I know who Kelly Catrone is…), I admire the Virgin Mary. With her trés chic blue head scarf the women’s credentials as a fearless and independent #puma are flawless. Let’s take a look at that curriculum vitae shall we? As a virgin, Mary was impregnated during an “angel” visitation without intercourse and still managed to convince her husband that he should father said fetus without question or hesitation because it was going to be King one day (does anyone else think that Joseph might be the first cuckolded husband on record?). Plus, the Lady gave birth on the back of a donkey with minimal fuss… that’s what I am talking about… crazy… brave… and not in need of a man…#pumarules all the way.
Despite all the bells… whistles… glamour… glitz… glitter… sparkle… I have yet to convert to #Catholicism. For me, the negatives still far outweigh the positives… at least as far as my #atheist asshole self believes…
I don’t want to be baptized again. I enjoy living in sin and quite frankly don’t want anyone to wash away the notches I have earned on the belt of my immortal soul. If there is a Heaven or a Hell, I will roll the dice and take my chances that the good deeds I do, and my stellar personality will give me access through the Pearly Gates.
As an equalist, I find the treatment of women as second-class citizens in the church kind of appalling. There are no leadership roles for women, and while the #Catholics idolize their Mary; they don’t feel women are strong enough to be able to teach the word of God (despite giving birth to his right hand).
The wine at communion is not real wine.
Perhaps the biggest reason I haven’t jumped onto the bandwagon that is #Catholicism, is my now acknowledged weakness for imagery. During a heated but intelligently battled out argument over the value of making something “seem better then it is” as a way of upping its ability to sell and me adding in that all of organized religion would be a great example of said marketing techniques with the glitz and glamour hiding the true darkness (it was a brilliant diatribe with villains and plot lines), when the regular at the pub, I had embarked on said argument with piped up with “you cannot pick a religion based on imagery”. The comment stopped me mid rant, as a large light bulb clicked on in my brain. A truly valid point to which I had to concede… One really SHOULD NOT choose a religion based on imagery. One should not make any life choices based on imagery … unless that life decision is happening at a Tiffany’s and it involves something sparkly and diamond-like in nature…
It occurred to me then, that just as I am an atheist because my instinct towards religion have been highlighted as “widely immature”, so too am I #single because my instincts towards potential lovers and beaus have stalled somewhere in my mid twenties… when I believed I had found the perfect male example and the preferred specimen was tall, dark and angry. Fortunately for me, although my libido and theological ideology have remained sufficiently jaded and materialistic, the rest of me has given up… the result being in a growing sensibility to assist me in avoiding my damaged, glamour hungry instinct. The point being, I shall remain a #puma in the throws #singledom until my maturity arrives or until I find myself deterred from attracting and being attracted too #BadBoys. You may think that I would find this defeating but in fact it was a huge break through and a happy one. What I have learned is that because of my issues with imagery… I WILL remain #single which is okay by me because at no point do I want to develop into one of those simpering idiots who has to stand beside a man … like a mute… making small talk about my false domestic bliss, with bitter – yet fabulous #singletons who hold my newly found “we ambitions” (which may or may not include wedding plans… house hunting… furniture shopping) in utter and complete contempt. #Singletons who are no doubt both intellectually more stimulating and better looking then my mute #coupled up ass. Instead I am oddly comforted and reassured that I AM one of these #singletons… self harm disaster avoided… I am not a mute or a follower… I am #single and a #leader… And I am strangely in love with that…
Remember my loverlies… We can’t have everything… Unless of course you are Alanis Morrisette… she got to wear a tutu and play God all in one film!
~ Artwork owned by original artists. Yes I am aware that using Day of the Dead artwork is creepy, but its all about #imagery this week…. and nothing hides the truth like beautifully placed face paint…