If you, like me, are a damned heathen, you probably hate being forced to go to holiday church by parental units and the like. Mom says, pathetically, "All I want for christmas is my family to go to church with me, just this one time of year."* And so we troop off to godbag central, which is admittedly, not as godbaggy as a lot of churches, being a mainstream WASPy version of Presbyterian. Nonetheless: I am not down with the sky god and his heavenly concierge, Jesu.
So, I roll my eyes, gird my loins, have a cocktail or three before departure, and do my daughterly duty. Just this once! For mEEEE!!! I go. And I sit in the pew and read the Bible, but only the naughty bits. I'm fond of Song of Solomon (for the sexy bits) and the Book of Revelation (if you want horrorshow trippy bits). In this way I can tune out the terrible xmas tunes and the droning of the minister, and yet I cannot be faulted for reading the bible in church. I mean, it's the HOLY Bible! And I'm in CHURCH!
* Y'know, it's what she SAYS, but I'd be damned with the hairy stinkeye of maternal disapproval if that was, indeed, her only christmas present.
Harrsser in Chief.
7 hours ago