When the whole debate began, it
Was one people, on one planet,
Looking up into the night-time at the stars
Whether proximal or distal
Whether fiery gas or crystal
All they knew beyond a doubt was, it was ours
There were greater lights and lesser,
They were beautiful, but yes Sir,
It was evident they all belonged to us
Both the lesser and the greater
And of course, the stars’ creator,
Who’d decided we were worthy of the fuss.
Then it changed; the observation
Of a moving constellation
Showed a different sort of neighbor in the night
There’s a planet that’s between us
And the sun—we call it Venus,
And another planet, Mars, as well in flight.
Now our neighborhood’s gone plural
More suburbanite than rural
So we contemplate the details of God’s plan:
Did He give these planets Jesus?
Are they only there to please us?
Either way, we know His favorite is Man.
Tip of the cuttlecap to PZ, here.
(and no, this isn't technically an instance of pluralistic ignorance; that's when everyone in a group thinks that every other member of the group understands something, and each individual doesn't want to look like a fool admitting to being the only one who doesn't get it... Happens all the time. No, this is a rumination on the ignorance of pluralism.)
4 comments:
dc - and we are going to spare you and your family because you are an impotent babble unaware of the consequences of your words...
Fascinating, Dancing Monkey. I'm sure you're aware, that's virtually the exact reason you are not, currently, behind bars.
Oh, my. This one just flows and rolls and roars like a river. A very, very clever river.
And I wept
News, they say, should be balanced and fair
It is, if you can have a faith like theirs
The job is to give time to both sides of the story
As if there is only two sides, to god be the glory
Spritzen mouth pieces claim the love in their faith
Yet only have time to preach their brand of hate
They blame women for earthquakes, gays for storms
Haiti serves the devil, so their deaths are self harm
Too many suffer troubles and pain
But the story of religion remains the same
They pray against the wicked, the wicked don't change
They pray for touchdowns, they pray for some rain
Potection they seek from bigots and harm
All tax free to prevent unfair advantage
For office, it's not really worth running for election
Unless holymen preach which person needs selection
And I weep
A two year old dies never having enough food
their god's work is mysterious they exude
They pay their holymen, no care who starves
Every six minutes, the math is not hard
Non-heterosexuals are just an abomination
They lie and tell you it's a Christian nation
Love your neighbor unless they are gay
Their god would never have made them that way
Turn the other cheek and the religion of peace
West bank is ours says god's chosen peeps
Rreincarnation and karmha is the thing
Only the faithful will live again
In our times of trouble and worry and struggle, mayhem
Only religious have real hope to sooth and coddle them
They all have Truth from their skydaddy above
They are safe from all harm in the embrace of his love
If they live too close to loose women or gays
His wrath and pettiness, their lives will erase
They want me to believe in magic fairy stories
but only to build their bottom line glories
And I weep
For all those who need only fair equity
For all those unfairly harmed by inequality
And I weep
That I have no skydaddy to come and set justice
No magic incantations, I have only what just is
No hope for me beyond the measure I quarry
No hope for the beleagured, I'm so very sorry
And I weep
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