After his address on religion last week, I’m sure I’ll never be invited to Mitt Romney’s White House should he be elected President. It’s not just because as a National Public Radio commentator, documentary filmmaker, single-payer universal healthcare proponent and driver’s license for illegal immigration-supporting liberal, I don’t travel in the same circles as he does. As an atheist, I now know that I’m not even included in Romney’s America.
You see, I broke up with God years ago, but not really because of the big stuff that leading godless heathens like Christopher Hitchens write about. As with most relationships, it’s the little things that drove me crazy. Here’s my top-ten list of reasons I gave God the old heave-ho. In no particular order:
My God would never make mussels, clams and oysters taste so good and then prohibit me, a Jewish gal, from eating them.
2. The meek shall inherit the earth.
In my family, like much of America’s workforce, not only have the meek inherited nothing, they are barely holding on to their standard of living. So on this point alone, I reject the Bible.
3. American Gladiators.
If there were a God, American Gladiators would not be returning to TV this winter.
If there were a God one part of our government wouldn’t be opening doors to negotiate with Ahmadinejad, while another fans the flames for military action.
5. There’s not enough good Szechwan in Los Angeles.
If there were a God, he would make better Chinese food more readily available in Los Angeles. LA is mostly made up of transplanted New Yorkers, so why can’t we get good old chicken and broccoli in garlic source out West?
6. Britney Spears.
If there were a God, Britney Spears wouldn’t be one of the most Googled topics on the Internet. Although perhaps there is a God and this is one of the signs of the apocalypse. Example: Spears gave us views of her vajayjay: 3,450,000 Google hits. Jonas Salk gave us the polio vaccine: 212,000 Google hits.
7. Multitasking is of dubious effectiveness.
Recent studies have shown that multitasking isn’t that productive. If there were a God, he wouldn’t allow my illusion of being able to accomplish more on a daily basis to be taken away from me.
8. God doesn’t give you anything you can’t handle.
My God wouldn’t allow people to make up inane aphorisms about him. I’m disorganized, easily distracted, have a fear of anything medical and have a kid with health issues. My God would know that I was a poor choice for this assignment, that this saying is just moronic and only serves to make people like me feel worse when we inevitably fail.
Most all of the little beauty tips I’ve employed in my career as an actress I learned from the transvestites and transsexuals I used go-go dance with on the bar at the Pyramid Club in NYC. Especially tricks with crazy glue. My God simply would not stand for unequal treatment of gay people.
10. Darfur, AIDS, my awe and respect for the mysteries of science, that lead paint is in kids’ toys, that we allow people to live on the streets, that we haven’t passed stricter gun legislation…
OK, I lied. I have a million top ten reasons why I reject the notion of the kind of God invoked in particular by the Republican candidates, though most of the Democrats have also enrolled in the campaign God-a-thon.
That said, I am willing to admit that I might be completely wrong about God. After all, round-toed Mary Janes are back, which is something I’ve prayed for, because it’s just against nature to squeeze into pointy-toed high heels. Furthermore, Donny and Marie are reuniting. It seems so improbable that there is interest in them that even immaculate conception seems plausible to me now. Not to mention that the chance of a presidential run by former pastor Mike Huckabee–not long after a movie about existentialism titled I (Heart) Huckabee was released–seems to be the same as the notion that dinosaurs walked the earth at the same time as man.
But if Mitt and I ever did break bread, he would get no flak from me on the Mormon faith. Compared to burning bushes, people turning into piles of salt, plagues and general mayhem of the Bible, I find Joseph Smith’s buried tablets written in the secret language that no one has ever heard of a perfectly reasonable story that was turned into a three-part series on South Park–such consistently brilliant satire that its existence alone might just prove there is a God.