"Throughout her history, God has used America to correct the nations," proclaims the co-worker.
I guess some people, many people, even, get along with, and even like their co-workers. They arrange workplace potlucks and after work get-togethers at bars and restaurants. Haven't we seen motion pictures which depict co-workers enjoying each other's company while performing karaoke? So this camaraderie must occur in *real life*. . .
As for me, I do not condone, but do understand workplace violence. . .
"God told you this?" I ask.
By way of answer, the co-worker offers a faggy *hmmph,* and then haughtily intones "it's obb-vious!"
The garbage, the lies, the vomit I've had to listen to while working for no good reason for thirty-five fucking years at crummy jobs!
The shitty thoughts of pew-warmers and TV watchers!
"So. . .those two or three million gooks America killed, that was God correcting Vietnam?"
The co-worker nods.
"What was God correcting?"
"Communism! Geez! Duh!"
"Vietnam is still communist," I say.
"Not the economy!"
"So God is OK with all the rest?"
"It's more complicated than that!"
"Oh. OK. Well, that explains everything."
So many nitwit co-workers over the long, long years of idiotic work. The vast, vast majority of them *proud Americans.* Proud of America's wars, proud of all the sinners righteous America has killed. So proud to sacrifice their lives for ten or twenty bucks an hour on the altar of the nation that slaughters millions who make ten or twenty bucks a week. . .
"So when all those sand niggers were killed because America thought Iraq had weapons of mass destruction, and it turned out there weren't any weapons, was God wrong, too?"
"That was never the reason for the war! Geez! Duh! It was to stop terrorism!"
"Oh. But it hasn't stopped."
"Once Obama's gone and we get Trump in there, we can rebuild the military and finish what Bush started."
"So God's had to sit around the last eight years, waiting for Americans to vote right?"
"Pretty much. He gave us our democracy, and He's faithful to His word, even when we screw up. That's how much God loves America!"
Pervert. The worst kind of pervert. Worse than the disheveled old lech who holds his cell phone camera under a schoolgirl's skirt, or the obese gym teacher who sucks young boy's cocks. This co-worker of mine is the worst kind of pervert. A perverter of the gospel.
Thirty-five fucking years working next to these perverts. . .assaulted by their shitty thoughts. . .minimum wage false prophets with their Dollar Store abominations of desolation.
But that's all right. . .I work and I watch.
For the Son of Man is as a man taking a far journey, who left his house, and gave authority to his servants, and to every man his work, and commanded the porter to watch. Watch ye therefore: for ye know not when the master of the house cometh, at even, or at midnight, or at the cockcrowing, or in the morning: Lest coming suddenly he find you sleeping. And what I say unto you I say unto all, Watch.
52 Pick-Up and Two Dead Kennedys: The Echoes of the Shots - In “JFK, RFK, John Frankenheimer, and the Mystery of Sirhan Sirhan”, I briefly discuss the Manchurian Candidate director’s strangely intimate connection to...
1 week ago