The Church Of The Big Chicken
PG was listening to a podcast about atheists and religion. There was a comment about how prayer … the concept of talking to G-d … is often self aggrandizing. Duh. Why should the creator of the universe care about the budget problems at your church? One thought led to another, and soon PG remembered a series of brief conversations.
For those who are new to this blog, perhaps a bit of explanation is in order. PG is a recovering Baptist. He suspects that G-d does exist, even though the world would probably be a happier place without her. Whatever her status, G-d does not write books, or engage in real estate transactions. Jesus was killed because he was a troublemaker. The reputed exit from the grave has nothing to do with what happens to people when they die. And, last, but probably most important, PG is under no obligation to discuss any of these items.
At the time of these conversations, PG was in his last round of working for Redo Blue. He was based in Cobb County, making pickups and deliveries. As a mobile person operating in Cobb County, PG had frequent encounters with the Big Chicken. There is speculation that future civilizations will consider the Big Chicken to be an object of religious significance. PG decided to give this hypothesis a test run.
When this story took place, PG enjoyed the “privilege” of making comments at PyroManiacs. One of the Pyros, Scent, was mean to PG. One day, while waiting at a red light on the Cobb Parkway, next to the Big Chicken, PG looked over at the sheet metal bird and said “G-d, what should I do about Scent?” “You should forgive him.”
A week or so later, PG was waiting at the same red light. Across the street from the Big Chicken was an “adult fantasy store” named Tantra. This combination of extra crispy poultry, and eastern sex magick, led to the next question. “Why does Jesus hate me?” “I don’t know.”
By and by on the four lane, the light turned red. PG turned down the radio. A traffic report was underway. “Hey G-d, whats happening?” “Don’t worry about me, listen to the traffic report”.
All parties must come to an end. One day PG asked a more serious question. “Are mom and dad ok?” There was no answer. PG began to feel sad, until he realized that this whole thing was becoming too serious. Even if Jesus worshipers obsess over the lifestyles of the dead, you do not need to imitate them. Just keep you seat belt fastened, and watch out for the nut behind the wheel.