So, my normally charmed life has hit a streak of bad luck. Times are tough for everyone, even the KKK (if your brain lacks the properly-firing synapses to understand that bit of dry humor, you need to lay off the "recreational" drugs). However, things aren't so bad for some as they are for me. Why do I say that? Because I have resorted to offering to figuratively whore myself out to reality tv in exchange for room and board. Even sadder, I'm not sure that reality tv wants me (they don't like people who others instantly gravitate towards as the hero, the one that they keep rooting for through all the challenges...takes away from the drama and means that they have to rig the eliminations to make sure that said person wins or their ratings hemorrhage severely). In times like these, I find myself thinking more spiritually, probably because I hate to think that I have to dig myself out of this mess instead of having a fairy godmother swoop in and tidy everything up for me. Yet the pastor at the place I drag my body to church to most Sundays (I'm a fan of sacred rituals such as communion) gave a sermon today about how just because we've gotten poorer doesn't mean that we should give less financial support to the church. In fact, we should be giving more. Yes, that sounds like a brilliant plan. Let little Timmy suffer from malnourishment because we can't afford to feed him properly while we give ever increasing percentages of our dwindling incomes and savings accounts to the church. Sale of indulgences much? The pastor's not a bad guy, but, really, it was one of the most anti-Christian sermons this side of the Counter-Reformation. Sometimes I feel as if I am too learned for my own good.
