Following is another transcript of services conducted by the Rev. Kiley (h.n.) at the First Congregational Reform branch of the Really Rotten Atheists.

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Rev–  Glad to see so many smiling faces out there. Who’d like to be first?

John Burroughs stood up and yelled: “Science has done more for the development of Western civilzation in one hundred years than Christianity did in eighteen hundred years.”

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Rev — I see George Carlin has his hand raised. George?

“When it comes to believing in  God I really, really tried, but the more you look around the more you realize something is wrong here. War, disease, death, destruction, hunger, filth, poverty, torture, crime, corruption  and the Ice Capades. That is not good work.  If this is the best God can do, I’m not impressed. Results like these do not belong on the resume of a Supreme Being.”

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Rev — Comment, Andrei Codrescu?

“The evaporation of four million people who believe in this crap about ‘The Rapture’ would leave the world a better place.”

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Rev — Your turn Chapman Cohen.

“Gods are fragile things; they may be killed by a whiff of science or a dose of common sense.  There are still many who continue to marvel at the wisdom of God in so planning the universe that big rivers run by great towns, and that death comes at the end of life instead of in the middle of it.”

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Rev — What would you add, Larry Cohen?

“Everybody’s got a different idea about what God thinks and what God likes to do and what God is; the crazy guy on the corner knows about as much as the guy in  St. Patrick’s Cathedral — none of them knows anything. People say, ‘Reverend Moon — what a crook!’ and I say, ‘But what about the Pope?’ It’s all the same. Anybody who starts telling you what God thinks should be locked up immediately.”

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Rev — Quentin Crisp has a funny story.

“When I told the people of Northern Ireland that I was an atheist, a woman stood up and demanded, ‘Yes but is it the God of the Catholics or the God of the Protestants in whom you don’t believe?’”

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Rev — Hey, Clarence Darrow — How about some legalistic thought?

“Every man knows when his life began  — but, if I did not exist in the past, why should I, or could I, exist in the future after death?”

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Rev — Let’s hear from  Richard Dawkins.

“Modern Theists might acknowledge that, when it comes to Baal and the Golden Calf, Thor and Wotan, Poseidon and Appollo, Mithras and Ammon  Ra, they are actually atheists. We are all atheists about most of the gods humanity has ever believed in. Some of us just go one god further.”

Rev — Anything else Richard?

“Could we get some otherwise normal humans and somehow persuade them that they are not going to die as a consequence of flying a plane smack into a skyscraper?  The afterlife-0bsesssed suicidal brain really is a weapon of immense power and danger. It is comparable to a smart missle, and it’s very, very cheap. To fill a world with religion, or religions of the Abrahamic kind, is like littering the streets with loaded guns. Do not be surprised if they are used.”

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Rev –  Denis Diderot — you have something to say?

“I have only a small flickereing of light to guide me in the darkness of a thick forest. Up comes a theologian and blows it out. — The philosopher has never killed a priest, whereas priests have killed a great many philosophers.”

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Rev — The wonderful Annie Dillard has her  hand up. Annie?

“I read about an Eskimo hunter who asked the local missionary priest, ‘If I did not know about God and sin, would I go to hell?’ ‘No,’ said the priest, “not if you did not know.’ ‘Then why,’ asked the Eskimo, “did you tell me?’”

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Rev — Welcome Umberto Eco. Any comments?

“Fear prophets and those prepared to die for the truth, for as a rule they make many others die with them, often before them, at times instead of them.”

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Rev — Let’s take a brownie break.

                                                                 FIGHT FORTH

During the past few years I seem to be spending more and more time visiting ranches for my magazine stories, and I have some observations  about ranch people.

First off, they don’t really gived a rat’s ass about how their homes look. I’m not saying they live in dumps or anything liked that. It’s just that they are much more interested in their animals and their land than in fancy furniture or massive homes. Quite often their barns and outbuildings are much fancier and bigger than their homes. Most of their living rooms are comfortable, but cluttered.  Try to imagine a house decorated and cared for by a 13-year-old boy.  A man and woman who have been out all day cutting hay, moving herds of cattle,  branding or plowing just don’t care a helluva lot about doilies, lace curtains, or well-swept floors. I’ve been in a few houses that try to look like Hearst Castle, but I have learned that owners of such castles don’t really care about cows, horses, sheep, dogs or anything that might stain their carpet. I much prefer visiting and interviewing the “We’ll clean it next week” folks.

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I’m  old enough to remember when milk was delivered in bottles by a “milk man” who left it on  your porch. I wish we still had such an offering, mainly because opening these plastic/wax containers is a pain in the butt. First they forced me into learning how to open the container by squeezing here while and pushing there, forcing triangle-shaped opening to pop out. Just when I learned to do that without destroying the container and my temper, they came up with this little round plastic circle thingy that you have to pull out before you can pour. Often you need the strength of The Hulk to get that wee circle out, and when it finally pops out you are squirted with enough goo to baptize a moose.  Bring back bottles with civilized little cardboard covers!

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Ever since we domesticated dogs so they wouldn’t run around munching on bunnies and Bambi, we have had to supply their every meal — and that has resulted in the creation of a ridiculous animal. My Current Wife has two dogs. A yappy little white Westie terrier and a round, chubby Corgi. And the only thing really important in their lives is food. They want to be fed first thing each morning, and if you aren’t quick about it they either start that annoying barking pattern, or they just sit beside your chair and nudge you with their cold, wet noses. After breakfast they set out to find a snack, and then another one. They have built-in clocks so they know exactly what time they are supposed to be fed at night, and they remind the hell out of you if you’re late. As soon as they burp and leave their little messages out on the lawn, they start pushing for a snack. If you get the idea that I’m not too nuts about dogs, you are very perceptive.. They worship and adore the CW, but they treat me like a flu germ –probably because they know I’d rather have a big-screen TV.

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I think the man who invented sweat-pants should be declared a saint. We should write poems about him, and erect large solid gold statues.

The next time you’re in a super-market watch what’s going on with fat guys or geezers. They are spending most of their time pulling their pants up. The pants that are forced on them by their wives are built for George Clooney. You never see him pulling his pants up do you? , That curse is upon men who have allowed their once-spectacular bodies to gain a little weight, like fifty pounds or so – just enough to force their belts down below their belly buttons. Pants hanging that low slowly drop, a few inches at a time, and if the gentlemen in question don’t constantly pull them back up, those pants will wind up around his ankles.  Watch a pants-wearing old dude get out of his car. He must spend the first two-dozen steps gaining control of his pants. 

And then one day, while their wives were at church or out shopping, along came the guy selling sweat-pants. What a savior! Men just put them on and forgot about them. Tight belts were suddenly a thing of the past. Sweats stayed snuggly around his waist and let him pay attention to more important things than keeping his fanny covered. Before their wives got home each man bought two dozen pairs of sweat-pants, all the same color of course.

                                                                   FIGHT FORTH

I read somewhere that Minnesota is supposed to be the best state to live in. I’ve never been there, so how the hell would I know? The article listed Iowa, New Hampshire, Virginia  and Massachusets  as the next best. It said the worst states were Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana and Florida. You’ll notice they are all Confederate States, so maybe it’s some sort of punishment. There are eight states that have fewer than a million residents, and Montana is one of them, thank God. (And we get the same number of U.S. Senators as you biggies. Ha!) There are more folks in Bakersfield, California, than in my entire state. We keep newcomers out by telling them that we have snow every July, and that each small town has 13.5 grizzly bears that roam around at night, and all our policemen and insurance salesmen are Indians, looking to pay us back. And our hospital is only open between 10 a.m. and noon on Wednesday.

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The fastest growing religion in  the United States is Islam. I’ll bet we get a couple of Muslim  holidays before long.

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I think we should do away with birthday celebrations. Does anyone really like to be reminded that they are another year closer to the Big Playground in the Sky? And all that cake and ice cream will just help you get there sooner. I’ll bet the guy who created the term “Golden Years” was about 23 years old. There’s nothing “Golden” about losing your hair and teeth; squinting to see the sign on the corner; taking several minutes just to stand up, or wishing you had someone to put on your shoes and socks. I’m very pleased that I’m still on the right side of the grass, but don’t pretend old age is as much fun as teenage sex.

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I don’t like the idea of women keeping their old name after marriage. If Mary Cunningham wants to remain Mary Cunningham after she marries George Blassingame, that’s fine — but I think it’s silly to become Mary Cunningham-Blassingame.  Make a choice, for Pete’s sake.

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When  an unmarried woman elects to have a child to love and care for, that’s okay with me. But if she has two, and starts asking for someone else to help her feed, house and care for those kids, she should get a harsh warning. And when she has her third, her ass should be kicked.

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I hate buying new cars because I know the salesman is out to screw me. For years I just accepted the price they gave me, but then my Current Wife decided to come with me when we purchase a car.  You don’t want to mess with my CW when  she’s making a major purchase. She sits down just long enough to hear the asked price — then she breaks into loud laughter as she takes my arm and leads me out of the showroom. The salesman always follows along, lowering the price at each step. CW just keeps giggling, pushing me into our old car at the curb. The salesman hangs in the window with a still-lower price, and CW just starts the engine and moves ahead a few feet – THEN we get the real offer, and we make a deal.    

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I understand that cell phones have taken over the world, and old-fashioned land-line phones will soon be as rare as a rational Republican. I’ll be in big trouble, because I can’t figure out how to use my cell phone.  I just want to dial someone, chat for a while, and then hang up. But they offer me one that takes pictures, plays game, brings me my data-base (whatever the hell that is), but only if I learn how to drive one. I’m sure the damned things would give me a tan and  rub my back if only I understood the owner’s guide. I have thrown away several, because they were raising my blood pressure and making me feel like a spastic monkey.

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For the life of me I can ‘t understand why Arizona and Nevada are fast-growing states. Nevada has all the charm of a gorilla’s armpit, and Arizona would be a splendid place to hold captive Talibaners. I understand that old folks like to move there because they don’t have harsh winters. You can say the same thing about hell.  Nevada should retreat to its original intent — a good place to test atom bombs.

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I hope the folks out in California will become the first to legalize marijuana. If that happens it won’t be long until a mess of people start growing their own, which will put those drug cartels out of business and empty a gang of prisons. If you are able to find an honest,  outspoken doctor  (or policeman) they will tell you that pot is safer than booze or cigarettes, which are available in all our markets. I don’t advocate anyone using a lot of pot, anymore than I think you should guzzle a pint of vodka every day while puffing down two or three packs of cigarettes. But pot is a different game. I have never tried heroin or cocaine. I know nothing about them, except what I hear. That’s one thing I worry about. If we tell our kids that pot will rot their brain and turn them into zombies, and they smoke it anyway and then realize that the adults were lying to them, maybe, just maybe, they were lying about heroin too, leading the kids into real trouble by testing for more adult lies. Most Americans have smoked pot at one time or another, and know it is not addicting or dangerous (unless you’re standing too close to a bag of candy.) It lets you hear Beethoven as you’ve never heard him before, or it makes you sprawl in a big chair and let your mind wander to strange, pleasant places while you wear a big,  goofy smile. It never makes you want to get up and hit someone, or shoot something, or rape an elderly  nun. It’s a sweet drug hidden under a bad name. Remember, it wasn’t illegal until Prohibition ended and we had all those Booze Cops with nothing to do, so someone said, “Let’s make marijuana illegal so these guys can keep their jobs.” That stupid act created the same type of criminals that Prohibition had.  Al Capone was happy as hell to have alcohol declared illegal, and the drug cartels around the world just squealed their little hearts out when we outlawed marijuana.  

 All you churchies out there don’t have to get your knickers in a twist about this. I fear you still have enough control to be sure Mary Jane remains a naughty girl.

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Please close the cage as you leave.

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                                                                 Fight Forth!