(Page 1 of 3) The Laughter of God by Adam FletcherSUMMARY: A man describes what has led him to the point he is at in life in order to better understand himself. Not really speculative, but it's my first post. I'm glad someone rated it, but if you do could you give some kind of reason, like "You suck" or something I told myself if I ever went through with this I wouldn't write one of these. I don't want people to understand, but I suppose the desire to tell people what I think of them is too strong.
I'm writing this note to tell people that it's their fault: I would be fine if it weren't for them. I sometimes think that God must sit up on his throne and laugh at people, wondering why he ever created them. They're so stupid; they'll eventually destroy themselves, I think. Not that I believe in all that "save the environment" crap or that the world is headed for nuclear war. I'm just saying that people are naturally stupid, and stupid people do stupid things.
This whole thing probably started with the tattoo, but I think it may go back further, to when I was in college. I went through this whole "searching" phase. I think most people in college go through that. I found Jesus, lost him, found him again, and then gave up. It's complicated, but I'll try to explain.
I found Jesus the first time in a closet. I was looking for something else, a shirt, I think. I was looking for the shirt and found a book. It was one of those "why Christianity is the best religion ever" books. I hate them now, then I had no opinion. I was curious, so I read it. Since my parents don't go to church I had little knowledge of religion and God and all that. I was only 14. I read the book, and it all made sense to me. I wondered why all this stuff hadn't been clear to me before. If a book written 3000 years ago is scientifically accurate and doesn't have any contradictions, then you have to listen to it.
So, I went to church. I was baptized. I became a churchgoer. It lasted through high school.
I didn't tell my friends. If they wanted me to do something Sunday I got out of it, barely, with some poor excuses. They may have suspected, but they never said anything. I figure they didn't care enough to interfere. I wasn't on drugs. I was going to church. What's wrong with that?
Then I went to college for a year. In college people make fun of you for being a Christian. Don't ask me why; I still think it's stupid. Who cares? You're all going to rot in the ground, no matter what you based your life around. It's all the same waste.
I ignored it at first, the ridicule. Then I got tired of it, quit going to church. You'd think people at church would call, tell you they miss you, ask you what's up. They don't.
I never stopped believing in God, per se, I just stopped caring. It's difficult to explain, but I think anyone who thinks beyond "What Would Jesus Do" can follow me.
I left college. College is as much a waste of time as church. Well, maybe not quite. Leaving college was the best thing that ever happened to me; that's what it looked like, at least. When I left college I made friends, and I don't make friends easily. In college there are a hundred kinds of people and all of them make friends as fast as they catch venereal diseases. I didn't catch venereal diseases.
After college, though, I started meeting people. Strangely. I would meet people at coffee shops, restaurants, and bookstores.
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