COLE STRYKER

author
colestryker.com

That awkward moment when your bankrupt culture war achieves an event horizon, when you step back and look at what you’ve become, a room full of people cheering on the eternal burning torture of millions of people with ecstatic glee, all channeled through the the soft voice of a child so pure that he can only be considered a perfect vessel of the Most High, all forgetting that the same Most High already begat a human vessel who came to establish inclusivity and acceptance as near-sacramental elements of your faith. 
That awkward moment when you realize your blind devotion to a narrow interpretation of an ancient book has culminated in the global exposure of a clueless woman who can’t bring herself to denounce a proposed state-sponsored imprisonment of a tenfold of her country, as though the purpose of her religion is to create a sanitized, unblemished version of humanity, as though getting rid of all the queers would allow us to usher in the Kingdom of God here on earth. 
That awkward moment when you realize that the volume of the condemnation for a particular “sin” from within this culture is directly proportional to the ease of which its critics can abstain from it, when it occurs to you that condemning homosexuality is so easy when you’re straight, literally the easiest thing you could possibly stand against. 
Why is it that we never hear anything about gluttony from these fat fucks? When was the last time a single one of you heard someone condemn gluttony from the pulpit? You won’t, because we’re only interested in standing against perceived sins by which we’d never in a million years be tempted. 
Why don’t we cage all the jealous people in an electrified fence? Or people who have “fits of rage” or “selfish ambition?” Or any number of other sins that are condemned far more often than homosexuality in scripture? 
Because that would require an ounce of self-reflection, and why bother when you can just condemn everyone else in the room to eternal hellfire? 

That awkward moment when your bankrupt culture war achieves an event horizon, when you step back and look at what you’ve become, a room full of people cheering on the eternal burning torture of millions of people with ecstatic glee, all channeled through the the soft voice of a child so pure that he can only be considered a perfect vessel of the Most High, all forgetting that the same Most High already begat a human vessel who came to establish inclusivity and acceptance as near-sacramental elements of your faith. 

That awkward moment when you realize your blind devotion to a narrow interpretation of an ancient book has culminated in the global exposure of a clueless woman who can’t bring herself to denounce a proposed state-sponsored imprisonment of a tenfold of her country, as though the purpose of her religion is to create a sanitized, unblemished version of humanity, as though getting rid of all the queers would allow us to usher in the Kingdom of God here on earth. 

That awkward moment when you realize that the volume of the condemnation for a particular “sin” from within this culture is directly proportional to the ease of which its critics can abstain from it, when it occurs to you that condemning homosexuality is so easy when you’re straight, literally the easiest thing you could possibly stand against. 

Why is it that we never hear anything about gluttony from these fat fucks? When was the last time a single one of you heard someone condemn gluttony from the pulpit? You won’t, because we’re only interested in standing against perceived sins by which we’d never in a million years be tempted. 

Why don’t we cage all the jealous people in an electrified fence? Or people who have “fits of rage” or “selfish ambition?” Or any number of other sins that are condemned far more often than homosexuality in scripture? 

Because that would require an ounce of self-reflection, and why bother when you can just condemn everyone else in the room to eternal hellfire? 

  • 31 May 2012
  • 189