Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Wherein Zombie Has Two Gentleman Callers
Yesterday, I heard a knock at the door.
"Wee!" I thought. "A visitor!"
I rarely have visitors, you see, on account of how I'm surly and a hermit.
This usually doesn't bother me. In fact, I think the last time it really bothered me was when my son was an infant and I'd have to go days and days without actual Adult Conversation. Consequently, I would casually waylay the mailman with clever witticisms like, "Nice weather we're having, isn't it?" and, "Oh, great! The electric bill!" and, "I'm so lonely. Please don't leave."
Yeah, sorry about that, Mailman From 6 Years Ago.
Anyway, I've recently decided to turn over a new leaf when it comes to social interaction. I've decided I should try to be less...how I am, and more like...a human.
Unfortunately, being more like a human means I have to engage my fellow man in pleasantries at some point or another. I've never been really good at pleasantries or any sort of small talk, so this is a difficult task I've set for myself.
Upon hearing the knock at my door, I thought, "Now's a perfect time to put my new resolution to the test! HOORAY!"
Then I, y'know, opened the door, and that nice resolution I made for myself crumbled to so much dust and blew away on a gentle breeze scented with raspberries and juniper.
Standing there on my front stoop were two Jehovah's Witnesses.
"GLRK!" I thought.
The first guy had shiny hair the likes of which no one outside of a carnauba wax factory has ever seen. Second guy was nondescript - but that might've just been because I was sort of blinded by the sun beaming down on Wax Guy's hair and couldn't really see all that well anymore.
"We'd like to talk to you about Jesus!" Wax Guy announced.
"Really," I said.
"Yes. Do you have a few minutes?"
"I have plenty of minutes."
"Well, can we just talk to you for a little bit, then?"
"No!" I said, stoutly, and shut the door.
Then I sat down on the couch to brood about how whenever I feel like bettering myself, something has to come along and ruin my good time. I mean, why can't cool people randomly knock on my door? Why does the first person I encounter after playing Existential Pinball have to be a Lunatic for Christ?
I watched the JWs walk away down the street, peering through my window, and then went back to doing dishes.
A few minutes later, I heard some scuffling on my stoop. I wandered out into the living room, thinking there must be a cat out there or something, and I should chase it away with a broom.
But no! I opened the door to see Wax Guy hightailing it down the sidewalk and a little pamphlet shoved into my screen door.
He snuck back to give me a Watchtower.
How kind of him.
Good thing, too, or I might never have learned that the end of false religion is near.
But what is "false religion," I wonder? I mean, from my perspective, all religion is false, but still...I am curious to know what the Jehovah's Witnesses think.
Wow! "A widely respected religious figure, Jesus Christ" said that? NO WAI. I love that, though, really. "A widely respected religious figure."
Oh, and the "worthless fruit" thing is good advice. Get rid of your mushy apples, people. Jesus said so.
Anyway, the crowning glory of this little pamphlet is the following:
Please excuse excess shiny at the top there. But hey, isn't my burgundy carpet tres chic? I like to think of it as being done in the Whorehouse Revival style, but that's just me.
Anyway, don't we just LOVE that multiple-headed sabre-tooth tiger thingie? Munching on some chick? It's so scary! And so...animalistic! And...so...head-y! And the horns! Wow. I love those horns. Those horns are graceful, like on a gazelle. It's a multiple-headed sabre-tooth tiger gazelle hybrid whatchamacallit. I'm pretty sure that's the technical nomenclature, too, mind you.
These Jehovah's Witnesses are crafty.
If I were ever inclined to take up a whackjob religious viewpoint, I think that this sabre-tooth-gazelle-jobby really might sway my opinion. It's a work of goddamned art, is what it is.
But if the multiple-headed-tiger-whatsit didn't do it, though, the caption beneath the portrait surely would.
"Get out of her, my people," indeed. That's some good advice right up there with the apples deal.
I think we've all learned something here today.
What that "something" is, I'll be fucked if I know...but still, I think that we're all a little better off than we were five minutes ago.
link | posted by Zombie at 9:03 PM |
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