Kittens vs Cursing, in an era of angry white skygods

Once upon a time, a child was raised in a Saintly way; and so, by a very early age, knew perfectly — knew it as well as anything else — that everywhere lurked a very white God, who’s perfect white anger glowed deathly white-hot, whenever anyone said “asshole” or “shit” or “fuck”; so the child would sooner die than say such things.

Then, the family cat made six kittens.

One day, while religiously avoiding curse words, the child became annoyed by the constant meowing of the six new kittens out in the garage.

With a spiritual knowledge about cursing but no such knowledge about kittens, the child did what seemed most reasonable in order to stop the annoying kittens: put them in a backpack, zip it up, and keep them there until the kittens learned their lesson — and stopped crying for no reason.

Impossibly, the child’s lesson only made the kittens more defiant — and they cried louder and louder, in the dark.

The child left the garage.

The child went to church.

The child returned from church.

The child went into the garage.

Finally! The kittens had learned their lesson, and they were, at last, silent.

Latter Day lessons against curse words conveyed nothing about living creatures’ need for oxygen, nor that such creatures, upon dying, often evacuate their bowels. And so the child was stumped when he opened the backpack only to find six wet, sleeping kittens — that stunk terribly, and would not wake up. After several minutes of wondering blankly, he opened the trash can, removed some trash, poured the kittens from the pack to the can, covered them in trash, closed the lid; never spoke of it to anyone; and continued fearing an angry white God who punishes swearing.

After several eternities, filled with so many other such stories — and the almost-constant suicidality which they tended to tender — the child miraculously lived long enough to reject, as casually as a breath, assholes with shit priorities who spoke of fucked up white skygods.

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