During one of my many conversations with Tyler and Allen, the subject turned to religion. As Allen and I are avowed atheists, talk turned to Tyler's spirituality.
Allen: (to Tyler) So, are you an atheist yet?
Tyler: (snort) Look, I'm agnostic, OK? I think...there might be a God, and there might not be. (pause) I'm open to the possibilty...yeah.
Sean: (respectful nod) (pause) So what about ... sentient cotton candy?
This weekend, I talked about the war with a co-worker. He brought up the idea that the American government might have a bunch of secret, perfectly legitimate reasons for wanting to attack Iraq, but just maybe they didn't tell anyone. We have to have some faith, he said. Someone at church had presented that argument to him. We ought to consider the possibility of the unknown, that we don't necessarily need facts and evidence.
So I stole an idea from Allen and insisted there was a unicorn behind him. Told him to trust me, and at least consider the possibility of the invisible unicorn. He didn't much appreciate the unicorn, but he was open-minded enough to look over his shoulder for it once.
I think people have too much faith in imaginary animals and magical spirits and authority. And I really wish that the people who make enormous military decisions about defending and attacking and killing didn't overwhelmingly believe in the afterlife.
Or unicorns for that matter.
But seriously, nice use of mythical creature to make a legit political opinion. Right on G.
Ok, now I know for a fact that there IS a sentient cotton candy. I've seen it. And also, the sentient cotton candy has told me that the sentient cotton candy does not like you continuing to make fun of the sentient cotton candy. The sentient cotton candy wants you to stop. Right now. The sentient cotton candy means it.