A Kept Deity, on Entrails
Seen in a local parking lot:
I won’t deny that we’re all sitting on a load of processed poo. But which parts of America were made by guns? The little divots on golf balls? The nooks and crannies of breakfast? Maybe potholes. And raise your hand if you actually favor losing your guts. Would you like to keep or lose your guts? I bet the “keeps” win in a landslide.
There’s one part of this bumpersticker that explains a great deal, though. Why don’t we see God? Why is there no second coming? Yahweh is off in some apartment somewhere (maybe Utah), singing Whitney Houston songs and waiting for His conservative sugar daddy to pay a visit and make everything feel good. A kept deity just isn’t seen in common social circles.