Ruby Ridge

One Step Forward, Twelve Steps Back

OK, ummm, how do I put this tactfully? If you are in a twelve step program of any description because you’ve fried your brain or it’s a condition of your parole; and you attend a fundamentalist evangelical church because you like the “structure” it gives you as you try to make things right before the End of Days, then petals, you are hereby banned from talking politics in the hot tub at the Gym. I decree that you have forfeited your right to opine in the presence of strangers, and here’s why …  

Last week I overdid it on the elliptical treadmill doohickey, so without thinking I jumped into the Jacuzzi tub to relax my ankle (I know, I know, but just elevating them doesn’t seem to work anymore!). Anyway, it was a big mistake! I landed smack dab in the middle of some sort of impromptu support group for recovering alcoholic, Born Again Christian, divorced men.

It was just terrifying. I don’t know if they texted each other and agreed to meet there en masse, but apparently they had declared a quorum and they were conducting some serious business. So here, cherubs, are some purloined “highlights” from their conversations:

The economic meltdown in the U.S. and across the globe is just one more sign of the End of Days.

The United States is becoming Godless and will be punished because of all of the abortions and the gays.

The earth is going to be destroyed by earthquakes, famine, fires or diseases.

Interestingly they mentioned every apocalyptic scenario EXCEPT global warming, and they sounded pretty convinced the annihilation of the planet would be fairly soon, so I’m debating whether I should go to Jiffy Lube for my regular oil change this week, or if I should just let it go for a few extra thousand miles. You know with the Rapture and everything, it could be a bit of a waste, especially if I spring for the higher grade synthetic oil, which is so expensive and I’m never really sure if it makes that much of a difference, or if they are just selling me a line of BS. And it’s the same thing with the air filter. It never looks that dirty, but they act completely mortified like its got coalminers’ black lung or something, so you feel guilt-ridden and obligated to replace it …

Wait, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, the wrath of God thing, I remember.  Sorry.

So in the middle of all of this pious talk about God and Judgment Day there were these charming little oh-so-Christ-like rants about how ex-wives are evil, manipulative shrews who only exist to extort child support, and to drive these men to drink, drugs and justifiable domestic violence. My head was spinning from trying to link these conversations into a cogent philosophy that could contain all of the irony. Because in their minds, they couldn’t see any dissonance at all.

And then there was my personal favorite rant of the day. According to one of the chlorinated oracles, Barack Obama will not give up his new NSA-approved Blackberry because it’s untraceable and he uses it to communicate with William Ayers!

No, I’m not kidding. They were absolutely serious. And this topic started a whole thread about how Ayers gave Obama his political start. Obama owes Ayers, so Ayers is setting the government’s agenda and he wants the Pentagon dismantled, and there was something about Cuba that went completely over my head. Oh, and the liberal media is saying nothing about any of this. At this point, my mind had imploded into mush and was clogging the pool’s filter.

Pumpkins, let me explain where I’m coming from. I completely admire folks with addictions who try to better themselves by committing to twelve step programs, support groups, and the black and white surety of Old Testament religion. I appreciate how hard it must be holding on by a thread and being surrounded by constant temptations. But when all of your coping strategies overlap into an all-consuming paranoia-fest, then leave it at home (or go wallow on talk radio where its normal), and spare the rest of us your tortured logic and opinion, OK? You’re scaring the children and small dogs, and driving the rest of us to drink.

Ciao, babies!

You can see Ruby Ridge live and in person at 3rd Friday Bingo (7:00 p.m. every Third Friday of the month) at First Baptist Church (777 S 1300 E in Salt Lake City). You can check out her appearances and schedule at thirdfridaybingo.com. Holler!

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