channonyarrow: (ed hell no no fucking way // mesongles)
( Apr. 30th, 2004 10:28 am)
One of the things that irritates me most in the world about door to door salespeople (beyond the fact that they exist and I don't have bloodthirsty Rottweilers) is when they get all caught up in the god thing.

I do not want to be told God Bless You. EVER. I do not believe in your god, I can guarantee that, and it is offensive as fuck to have you say that. I understand that it is your way of being kind, but would you like it if I were to start every interaction with Salaam Aleikum, since the closest I come to believing in a conventional god is Allah? Or perhaps if I said "Hail Satan!" every time you said "God bless you?"

I don't share your values.

This has, clearly, been eliminated in conventional shops and dealings. (I say this, of course, because I don't live in the Bible Belt; for all I know, you run around god-blessing like crazy there.) But EVERY SINGLE door to door salesperson I have EVER dealt with does this. It is INFURIATING.

Even if I wanted to buy your product, your assumption of shared values is stupid and small-minded. I am not bound by your rules as laid down in a book written not nearly as long ago as the events describe - and I am WELL AWARE of its contents. Do not get involved in a pissing contest about Catholicism, Christianity, Judaism, or Islam, or their associated traditions (although not the sects) because I know more than you do. You read the book with blind faith - I read the book to see the holes.

Want a hole? Just for fun? Acts of the Apostles. Read it critically. Look at what is happening.

That's right, the entire book of Acts is Cover-Your-Ass-Fu.

Furthermore, you are reducing the world to your view only. I realise that by being a reactionary bitch on this issue I am doing something similar. However, I recognise that you exist. You, evidently, do not recognise that I do.

I am not in dire need of a Cosmic Policeman to run my life. I am satisfied that there is NO MEANING to life. It has inherently no more or less meaning than what we, as individuals, put on our OWN lives. There is no god. He/she/it is not waiting up/down/sideways/elsewhere with a giant instrument, giving meaning to our lives through our devotions to him/her/it.

And you know what? I don't see why that's such a threat. Why does there have to be a god recording the fall of every sparrow? Answer me that.

But back to the point. I am not of similar values to you (and I guarantee that my non-belief in god is only the tip of the iceberg) so do not make that assumption. It is stupid, it is small minded, and it is offensive. Do not come to my door (or, indeed, contact me in ANY form) and cast your values on me. I do not go around trumpeting in every one-on-one interaction that I don't believe in god. I get to know what you think first. So either get to know me before you sell to me (which will not happen) or shut the hell up.
channonyarrow: (absolut snape romance // mesongles)
( Apr. 30th, 2004 12:32 pm)
Hmmm.

I was planning to scan in the originals for my tattoos, but then I realised that the notebook I've been carrying around for two days with that intention is the wrong one. Now I feel very, very dumb.

Also, in related news, I'm still working through the backlog of email. I know I have some from people who read this...I promise I'll get to it today or tomorrow.

Does anyone know what song (I believe it's Manson) has the line about "next motherfucker in the motorcade"? It's not Coma White, and I've not had time yet to check.
channonyarrow: (no other troy destruction)
( Apr. 30th, 2004 05:09 pm)
No offence to the people who are currently entertaining me (*waves at Tara and Amiboshi*) but...I am bored.

And a bit upset.

See, I'm running out of one-year-ago. To realise that one year ago, in about four hours, I was getting up to go to Magdalen College for May Morning, then on to the college for May Morning breakfast is depressing. In 11 days, it will be the one year of my submission of my dissertation. In a month, it'll be exams.

On September 25th, it will be one year since I came home.

I'm running out of time and I don't know what to do, or how to fix this. It's just getting worse and worse. Harder and harder.

I don't know at all how to do what I want. I know what to do, but how - the money, the legalities...feel like the Alps. And I'm barefoot to scale them.

Fuck.
.

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