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ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #516
`888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8
888 888 888 888 888 "Prosthelyzation"
888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8
888 888 888 888 888 " by Phairgirl
888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 3/16/99
o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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Another wonderful Sunday at work. I innocently sit in the
drive-thru window at Wendy's, happy as a clam, working my ass off,
waiting for my shift to end and for the person at the speaker to hurry
up and give me their damn order. I gently glide open the window to smile
at the lady sitting in her old beat up stationwagon below me and say,
"Hi! That's $3.15." I hold out my hand, and she fills it ever so
gracefully with her wad of money, and... a bible pamphlet.
I strain to keep from making any out-of-the-ordinary facial
expressions. I collect the cash, hit the bizarre button configuration on
the wall and put the money in my register. Then, and only then, do I
turn to my co-workers, out of view of the lady waiting patiently outside
for her sandwich and fries, and dance around with the pamphlet, singing
"SCORE!!!" repeatedly. I then calmly rest the pamphlet near my register
and politely hand the woman her order.
When the restaurant calms down, a few people crowd around me to
see what pamphlets I've collected this week. Sometimes there's a funny
comic, like the one about Satan's minions being heavy metal bands that
are turning our children into witches and warlocks. Alas, this week,
it's only a super-friendly sickening-sweet find-a-friend-in-Jesus
pamphlet.
I rather come to enjoy my weekly drive-thru visitor with her silly
pamphlets. I'm not sure what she's expecting; as if one of these days,
we'll read one of her Jesus Comics and suddenly see the light. If nothing
else, I've got quite a decent pile of Chick Publications and other
various tools of the prosthelytizing community. They amuse me.
I used to be annoyed by such pushy tactics and tacky assumptions
that they, somehow, will save everyone on this planet. But, over the
years, I've come to appreciate it. I'd much rather have someone bothering
me outright about becoming a Christian and saving my soul and loving
Jesus and accepting his ways than most of the other prosthelytizing I end
up receiving, and much of it is not quite so friendly.
I come home and my sister is bitching about my brother eating
"disgusting blobs of cow and pig" while I roll my eyes and go online.
There, I read about how humans shouldn't consume animals and how horrible
the world is for torturing and butchering innocent souls, right down to
"scientific and statistical facts" that "prove" humans were never intended
to consume meat. I laugh outloud, eating my meatless food. It's those
kind of people that make me embarrassed to be a vegetarian.
I decide to call one of my friends, who used to hang around with
a former crowd of my own, and it sets me to remembering. Tom, a former
roommate of mine, would laugh at us and yell at us if we went into stores
and actually paid for things; if you couldn't steal it, it wasn't worth
having. His entire crowd would ridicule and demean people who decided
not to be miscreants and deviants. After all, why be conformists? We
need to stick it to The Man! It was always fun being the do-gooding
leper of the group. So sorry to be a law abiding citizen, folks.
And this would also bring me to rememberances of my other former
roommate, Don. Don was alright, except that he was schizophrenic. But
besides that, he had a computer, and that made him an okay guy. That
is, until, you decided to speak to him whatsoever on the topic of
religion. Because, as I'm sure you all know. Wicca is the true path
and anyone who believes otherwise will be shunned by the Goddess and some
other horrid things that I don't care to remember anymore. His good
friend was a christian; or, should I say, his good friend of only two
months.
But, coming back to reality. The following day, I head off to
work. This time, I'm being abounded by my co-worker, Mike. I'm using
too many napkins, he says. All those trees are being killed so I can
blow my nose and wipe my mouth with a different slice of fiber each
time. And why am I using one of the company's styrofoam potato boats
when one of the more eco-friendly, recyclable light plastic trays would
have sufficed? And why am I using two individually wrapped plastic
forks for my salad and for my cottage cheese? I'm the cause of the
depletion of the ozone layer and global warning, you know.
I spin around with a fire in my eyes and drop my tray to the
ground. I pull my submachine gun from my belt and randomly fire
everywhere around me. Screams are heard, then quickly hushed by the
pounding rhythm of the bullets spewing this way and that. Now silenced,
I light my black candle and pledge thee to thy lord Satan, eat an entire
sleeve of bloody red raw cow patties, and release all the freon from
every refrigeration unit I can find while simultaneously chainsawing all
the trees in a forty mile radius and harpooning humpback whales.
And all was good.
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #516 - WRITTEN BY: PHAIRGIRL - 3/16/99 ]