Doc Godley On Religion
It isn't often that Dr. Godley sits down with the media for an interview. Usually they run away at the slightest suggestion.
Immediately following his last interview, The Hole-y Donut caused a mighty lightning bolt to strike churches of random denominations all over America as a warning sign to non-believers.
This time Dr. Godley will attempt to restrain himself as he answers questions from a young reporter.
Q: What is your view on the religious landscape?
A: Why it looks perfectly lovely from here.
Q: No, I mean, what is your opinion of religion overall?
A: Well, it's totally nuts, completely insane. You'd have to be stark raving mad to believe any of it.
Q: That's a rather provocative statement. Can you elaborate?
A: Certainly. The very idea of religion itself is crazy. You have people sane enough to use radar detectors and cheat on their taxes, yet actually believing that there's a little man up in the sky, watching everything they do and judging them. And if they fail to please this little man, he will torture them in the most barbaric ways imaginable; without pause, without mercy, and without forgiveness, forever. Only a scheming celestial sociopath would do such a thing, and yet these crazy people actually worship this sky dwelling sociopath and claim to love him with all their hearts.
Q: So you don't believe in the power of prayer?
A: About as much as I believe in unicorns. In fact, I'd wager that a unicorn will be spotted long before a single prayer ever gets answered. Might be a new mission for the Hubble telescope.
Q: But you do believe that prayers are heard?
A: By whom? People close their eyes and talk to this invisible little man and call it praying, when the little man isn't there at all. They're just talking to themselves. It's a mild form of psychosis, at the very least, delusion.
Q: So you would call praying at church a form of mass psychosis?
A: Logic would certainly seem to indicate so!
People apparently believe that meeting in a building once a week to pray to their little man together somehow concentrates their efforts into a combined prayer laser beam that can reach all the way to heaven.
Q: And you don't believe this actually works?
A: Where is the evidence? Take those people who got washed away in that tsunami in 2005. Odds are that many were believers. Had they failed to pray correctly? Maybe they didn't pray loud enough, often enough, or facing in the right direction? It's hard to know what a God who isn't actually there thinks of your devotion to him.
Q: But surely you see that prayers do get answered sometimes.
A: Oh sure, take the case of little Jeremy Johnson who asked God to help him find his missing puppy. His prayer was answered. He found that puppy the very next day. Of course, it was dead, but he got what he prayed for. He found his missing puppy. He didn't ask to find it alive. Apparently the God of the Old Testament is quite specific.
Q: When is the last time you were ever in a church?
A: The last time a relative died. They stuffed her full of whatever they stuff people with, put some lipstick on her, and left her on display in a box. And everyone showed up dressed in black. Not me, of course. I wore my best Hawaiian shirt. But I have to tell you, it was beyond grotesque. Like something straight out of a Vincent Price movie. Gave me the creeps. I had to walk outdoors, spit three times and say two Hail Marys.
Q: So you're superstitious?
A: Not at all. I was being followed by a priest. For all I knew he was packing heat under that robe and I wanted to act normal.
Q: I see. Have you ever attended church, perhaps as a child?
A: I certainly did. Every Sunday without fail, in an itchy wool suit my mother made me wear. She must have been in cahoots with the little man.
Q: When did you stop attending?
A: When I grew a brain and looked around at all the lunacy. People mumbling some mumbo jumbo over a plate of crumbs and pretending it's the flesh of their murdered savior. And murdered by whom? His father, the celestial psychopath. I figured this all out by the age of 16 and never went back. Scared the hell out of me.
Q: That must have upset your parents.
A: Everything I did upset my parents.
Q: But The Church of The Hole-y Donut is a church, right? I thought you said churches creep you out?
A: The Church of The Hole-y Donut isn't a church. We're an evangelical detox center with a donation box. We just call ourselves a church to pacify the Normals. Otherwise they might think we're a cult and have the government burn us to the ground in the name of saving the children.
Q: Boy, you have an answer for everything, don't you?
A: No, not everything. But anything I don't know the answer to, I just channel the D(o)nut and He whispers in my ear. I call it reverse prayer. It's when your god imagines that you are real and talks to you, instead of the other way around. I find it very comforting. Besides, I never have to think too much since He's there to think for me. Kind of like Siri on your iPhone, but infinitely more all-knowing.
Q: Will the Donut answer absolutely anything you ask of Him?
A: Sure thing.
Q: Would you mind asking Him something for me?
A: Not at all, fire away.
Q: Please ask Him if there is any such thing as unicorns.
A: He asked how many fingers He's holding up.
Q: I wouldn't know, I can't see Him!
Q: Goodness, this has been quite the interview. Perhaps we could so it again some time.
A: You look like you might make it.
Q: OK, uh, thanks. What wisdom would you wish to impart to those who still believe?
A: Well, first I would say to work your way off your psych meds. That might be helpful in clearing things up in the thinking department. Second might be to stop and ask yourself why Jesus and Santa both celebrate their birthdays on the same day. Could be a connection there. Finally, I would recommend ceasing all tithing to your personal brand of sky worshiping insanity and send that cash flow our way. We could use a new oil pump for the Donutmobile. And my closest personal assistant, Candy is feeling pretty deflated lately and could use a new pair of implants.
A: Yeah, she lost her front teeth in a cage match with a Christian soccer mom who belted her in the mouth with a crucifix.
Q: That's awful. How did that happen?
A: Candy simply asked her how, if the earth is supposed to be only 6,000 years old, there's no mention of dinosaurs in the Bible? That's when the trouble began.