Virgins, morons and a little dirty water by Jon Worley
There was a virgin sighting in Clearwater, Florida, last week.
No, I'm not going to make any cracks about loose suburban women (though feel free to do so yourself). The involved is none other than the Madonna, the virgin Mary who delivered Jesus a few years back. Her visage, as such, appeared on the glass windows of the Seminole Finance Corporation, an organization dedicated to loaning money to customers of a certain local used car chain. Obviously an upstanding company.
I'd really like to find the person who tipped off the local media. After all, this visage has been apparent in pictures dating back to early 1994, but only in the past week did anyone care. And plenty turned out, turning U.S. Highway 19, the busiest road in the county, into a 10-mile-long parking lot. Whoever cajoled the local TV stations (not known for their competence) to turn the whole thing into a full-blown "miracle" event should get a high-paying job with either major party in Washington. This person recognized a need (it's almost Christmas), found a fake issue (the virgin Mary in glass) and whipped up a public frenzy. Can anyone say "Willie Horton"?
Like every other denizen of these parts, I've been subjected to testimonials from the folks who have flocked to the image. My personal favorite came from a (white) woman, who stated that the reason God planted the image in Clearwater was to punish the people of south St. Petersburg for their "bad deeds". I think she's the mother of a St. Pete cop. It would explain a lot.
Plenty of "end of the world" claims abounded as well, not to mention other terminal silliness. Even after engineers (renowned athiests, say true believers) pointed out that the image was created by imperfections in the glass and a reaction with rain and the high nutrient content of the sprinkler water (reclaimed water, which is basically treated sewer water), folks still claim the thing is divinely created. One woman said that if the water really caused the image, then the county's reclaimed water supply be bottled and sold as holy water. Yeah, I'd like to baptize babies in water contaminated with a million-person county's urine and fecal matter. Tasty.
These things can happen anywhere. Back in the late 80s, a bunch of people stood in a church yard in Lubbock, Texas, alternately staring directly at the sun and then at the wall of the sanctuary. They claimed that if you would stare at the sun for a couple hours, and then looked at the church wall, the image of Jesus would appear before your eyes. Yes, that's what they said. It really happened. Don Henley wrote a song about it.
Now, when I stare at the sun for a couple hours and then look away, I see Kristin Scott Thomas. But that's just me. Perhaps you prefer Ralph Fiennes (you can tell what movie I saw last week, I guess). The point is, I just can't understand why people need miracles to explain their faith. As far as I'm concerned, the miracle of life itself is more than enough to justify any religion. Hell, the miracles of John Coltrane and Frank Zappa could inspire a dozen religions. My friend Chris Jungle is in favor of a religion based on the miracle of Jonathan Swift. That's one I could almost see myself joining.
I guess the thing that really bugs me is that many folks' lives are so empty that they will flock to a weird, iridescent image in some black glass. A pilgrimage to a ugly suburban office building represents the most important thing in their lives. When you think about it, the whole hullabaloo is really sad.
Of course, they'll say I'm one of them heathens who wouldn't recognize a bona fide miracle if one jumped me with an Alyssa Milano implant. Not true. If Steve Bono could have completed, say, one touchdown pass yesterday, I might have considered re-joining some mainstream religion. That would have been a true miracle. Of course, reality sucks. And I guess that's what all those people in the north of my county were trying to ignore by spending their days standing in a parking lot and staring at a wall. I mean, even if it isn't the virgin Mary, that image is still a hell of a lot better than worrying about what's going to be on the table for dinner.
Oh, you wanted Christmas cheer? Sorry. One booth over. This is the life sucks and then you die department.
Jon Worley plans to mount a campaign to convince the people of earth that we're not highly intelligent beings touched by God, but rather really stupid apes that wouldn't know our Beavis from our Butthead.