The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster
I am a Pastafarian bless my sacred plate
where first I felt my calling deep inside
sensation overwhelmed a rhythm in my heart
oh! How wonderful and marvellous I cried
Ever Tuesday is our ritual we never miss a date
as our Pasta shows symbolic metaphor
every tentacle we glaze reggiano to amaze
rekindle all our hopes in Pasta Comfort we implore
I am a Pastafarian and so proud that I revere
the secret of contentment I declare
my faith is firm unshakeable the meatballs are sublime
bearing satisfaction witness accordingly I swear
We all enjoy a story
a fantasy or two
narrative that casts a spell
yet patently untrue
The Mythiscist is masterful
adroit with sleight of word
tales of awe and hopes bequest
grandiosely quite absurd
With origins conjecture
control and mass consumption
for all of those who tread a path
of myth and wild assumption
This planet earth amazing place
where consciousness resides
and balance is the driving force
through turbulence and tides
The forces that dictate each day
inherent and abundant
are governed by unaltered law
historic and incumbent
Each principle definable
each constant clear and true
no need for spirit metaphor
or child like point of view
I can fully understand the frustrating feeling that most of the religious are doomed to remain in that weird world of futile adoration. Their poor minds have been contorted by parents, relative’s friends and teachers who convince and cajole using the ‘trust me I wouldn’t lie to you’ routine.
The price to pay for the brave discovery of reality is not for the meek.
To be out there in Veracity Street is fraught with the strength needed to be truly responsible for all ones actions. In Veracity Street you can’t hide behind a book of nonsense and demand respect for its obvious ambiguities. In the world of absolute truth there is no room for inequality. Real strength is in standing together in the pursuit of progress and genuine knowledge. The power of gender cooperation is immense providing methods and insights that are lost in the mire of social inequality. And guess what? The poor old meek are most unlikely to inherit the earth.
Being bought by the promise of jam tomorrow is extremely sad. I have myself been angered by the futility of belief and the stonewalling of rationale thought religion brings.
Finally, I say thanks to the courageous intellectuals who take care in presenting the very best of logic and reason yet all the while knowing that converting the deluded is a hard row to hoe.
The Times Are Hardly Changing.