Since politics is now about religion, and sports is now about religion, and for all I know, cooking is all about religion, it's time for me to come clean about my religion.
I know; it's taboo for people to discuss religion or politics, because we might offend some who believe differently than we do (vote Obama!). But my convictions on the subject are so strong and so firmly rooted in my being, that I can't hide what I consider to be my true self any longer. There's no sense in living a lie.
Yes, I do have a religion. My daughter and I invented it.
We worship Phyllis.
We've decided that Phyllis is a being who has unlimited power, and chooses not to use it. That ends all those messy "why would a benevolent deity allow such suffering" arguments right in the bud. Phyllis feels your pain, but she doesn't care.
Phyllis lives not in the sky, as many religions' centerpieces do, nor in the sea nor the earth. She lives in Boca Raton, Florida, with her husband Murray, whom she keeps around mostly to carry her luggage. Phyllis travels quite a bit, so she has a good deal of luggage, and Murray, a decent man (actually, he's something of a shlep, but she loves him), is content to carry it from the condo to the car, and then to the hotel, when necessary. Phyllis doesn't like to tip. She believes that would be a form of divine intervention, and she doesn't do that.
My daughter and I, being devout worshippers, try to follow the lead of our chosen deity. We don't do much. We don't interfere with other people, nor tell them what to do--even when they're being complete idiots. We don't travel very much, since we are on a tuition-paying budget, and besides, we don't have Murray to carry our bags.
Phyllis has not (yet) issued commandments, testaments, or other communiques intended to set a path for us poor mortals. She feels that if we don't already know how to act, there's no point in her trying to set us straight. It's all common sense, after all, and what do we think our parents were for, anyway?
Phyllis does not get involved in politics, sports, business, entertainment, nor warfare. She assumes that if a baseball player hits a home run and then kisses up to the sky, he's thanking American Airlines for getting his team there in one piece. If a politician tries to assert his religion over any other, Phyllis doesn't do anything, but makes sure to watch Jon Stewart that night, because she loves his impish spitballs of humor. If someone is foolish enough to start a "holy war" (a term Phyllis considers an oxymoron of the highest order), she makes especially sure not to lend a hand, and sends Murray out to see that the dictator's luggage is sent to Morocco, unless the war is being held in Morocco.
Phyllis did not create us in her image. She had not, in fact, invented the mirror yet, and so didn't know what she looked like. She created us because she was having a really slow Wednesday, and wanted something to watch. To be honest, she was trying to invent George Clooney, and it turned out to be a more time-consuming process than she had intended. So she started with some amoebas and let nature take its course. Phyllis doesn't interfere with nature.
She thinks it's silly that insurance companies have exemptions for "acts of god." Phyllis thinks the idea of a god who acts is a hoot. Unless it's George Clooney.
Phyllis absolutely doesn't care if you hold any other gods before her, as long as you don't do it right in her face when she's trying to get to the car. She doesn't mind if you take her name in vain, as long as she can still use it on a credit card receipt. She'd like you to honor your father and mother, but hey, some people's parents are jerks, and there's no two ways around that.
Phyllis doesn't wear fur, but she's not a vegetarian. She'd like to be, and has been meaning to go veggie for years now, but the idea of a nice brisket of beef sandwich is too difficult to pass up. She has given up pork, but only for cholesterol issues. She knows that's hypocritical, but who are you to judge?
She's not backing any presidential candidate, although that lady from Alaska does crack her up. Phyllis doesn't even vote. She's usually not in Florida on Election Day, and that absentee ballot application is too confusing. They won't even let Murray sign for her, and she just had her nails done.
She also doesn't care which holidays you celebrate. But we're hoping to initiate a new one, preferably for sometime in October, when everybody could use a day off. We're thinking of calling it Yom Murray. The guy could use a break.
Phyllis is not interested in adding new worshippers; she doesn't even acknowledge the ones she has now. This makes it easier for my daughter and myself, since we don't have to actually do anything.
You have to love a deity like that. It's why my family is comprised entirely of Phyllistines.
Except my son. He's a Pastafarian.
