Gonzo Marketing:Winning Through Worst Practices The Bombast Transcripts: Rants and Screeds of RageBoy
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Wednesday, October 08, 2003
Religious, Not Spiritual

One of the many unacknowledged code phrases of the crypto-quasi-covert New Age set is: "I'm spiritual, but not religious." Search google for "spiritual but not religious" -- quoted as such -- and you'll get about 7,000 hits. Exoterically, this proclivity refers to a distrust and a concomitant turning away from organized religion. Esoterically, it refers to a belief that these believers themselves constitute the center of their own solipsistic universes. It will come as no surprise to readers of these pages in the latter days of my discontent that, yes Virginia, we're back to talking about good old down home narcissism -- the lie that poses as the truth, the cowardice that masquerades as courage, the faux enlightenment and arrogant disdain that mimics and makes a mockery of human love.

I would just like to say here, briefly, fuck you. May you be cursed to the last generation and, if there be a lower world than this to fall into in some prayerfully yearned for, dearly departed afterlife, burn brightly there until the end of time.

Me, I'm religious, not spiritual. I am bound (religio) to the body, to the earth, to woman, to breath, to voice and the vice of the vocal, the local, the broken, the spoken, the word heard but unseemly. I freely admit to the seven deadly sins of pride, envy, anger, sloth, covetousness, gluttony, and lust. I am an evil-doer, an adulterer, a lascivious wanton, a philanderer, a thief, a fraud, a perjurer, and generally, an abomination in the sight of God.

Therefore I have no doubt I am going to hell, where I hope to help pummel and punish those gentle souls whose only sin is rank stupidity, those lost lambs so much less vile than myself, to wit: the spiritual but not religious. I await that day with the same glad heart that Christians bore to the lions, like so many serving trays at an upscale garden party. With that same purified concupiscence with which certain Muslims entertain the prospect of snow-white virgins disrobed and disporting themselves for the pleasure of the Elect. With that same unborn flame of desire with which Buddhists welcome the emptiness of howling space into their hearts as if they'd just been given a million dollar shopping spree on Rodeo Drive.

I do not seek redemption, no. I do not take Jesus Christ, Zoroaster, Gautauma, Isis, Walt Disney, Pele, Satan, IBM, or any other two-bit demigod, messiah, guru, or Ascended Master as my personal trainer. Given the chance, I would instruct both Pope and Dalai Lama to kiss my ass or suck my dick, whichever came first. So to speak.

I'm a heathen, not a pagan. There's a difference.


1:09 AM | link |



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"RageBoy: Giving being fucking nuts a good name since 1985."
~D. Weinberger
28 October 2004

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Until a minute ago, I had no photos. I still have no photos to speak of. I don't even have a camera. But all these people were linking to "my photos." It was embarassing. It's still embarassing. But I'm used to that.


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