Friday, January 15th, 2010
In these troubled times, filled with war, uncertainty and too many people willingly wearing bad footwear, people turn to religion. But which one to choose? There’s so many out there; Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Mormon, Ba’hai, Quaker, Baptist, Muslim – it’s a tough choice. Ahh you lost lambs, you need wander through the valley of the shadow of death no more! May I present to you, The Church of The Bangs.
The Bang-ite Principals
- Tell it like it is
- Spread laughter
- Give praise to the most high holy trinity; shoes, hair and dress
Bang-ites are encouraged to read. The works of Brett Easton Ellis and Chuck Palahniuk are particularly encouraged. Reading Harry Potter, anything written by Dan Brown or about vampires, wizardry is strictly forbidden. As is manga and anime. This is because in Chapter 7 Verse 42 of the Bangs Teachings, it clearly states that adults will know when to grow the hell up.
Pretty much nothing in the Bangs Teachings will make sense to you until you familiarize yourself with the works of;
The Nicholas Brothers
West Side Story
Singin’ in the Rain
Law & Order SVU
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
A Chorus Line
A Never Ending Story
and anything French.
Who We Worship
We worship those who show the ideals we admire: style, grace and awesomeness.
These include, but are not limited to:
Annie (yes, from the musical)
The Bang-ite faith comes down pretty hard on people who don’t prioritize style in their lives. As laid out in the Book of Bangs, bad style choices are punishable by bitch slappings, drop kickings or a lifetime of listening to Coldplay.
Jeans, uggs, flip flops, maternity wear on non-pregnant ladies, leggings and anything that resembles ‘house clothes’ being worn in the outdoors, can and will get you excommunicated from the church.
Think elegance and poise. Channel the graceful ladies and gents of the 50s and 60s. Ladies, heels must be worn at all times in the church.
So, there you have it. We don’t even have to meet every Sunday, because you know, I’m usually tied up trying some sort of off-key home conditioning treatment on my hair. So, what do you think? Monthly? Bi-annual? I’ll leave it up to you.
Drink tea and may the Bangs be with you.
Tuesday, February 5th, 2008
I’m catholic. I’d never lump myself in as a religious nut, but I did have a healthy belief in and relationship with the Big Man.
I can’t pin point exactly when I started to lose faith, but I’d say it’s been slowly eroding over the past eight years.
During that time, my life has been one long, ridiculous, almost comical at some points, series of bad luck and struggles. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve had a pretty great life all things considered. I’ve been enjoying the ride. But there have been seemingly endless, bleak, heartwrenchingly difficult stretches, where it seems that the universe has conspired to crap on me daily. I’ve had a ridiculous amount of bad luck.
I did at one time believe that belief in JC would help me through the troubled times, but honestly, it just hasn’t.
Church used to be enjoyable for me, though my mother and I weren’t exactly model parishioners. Once, as the priest was delivering his homily, my mother noticed that one of the gargoyles on the ceiling bore a striking resemblance to one of the prominent female members of the clergy. Hilarity ensued when she shared this information with me and we spent the duration of his speech muffling our laughter. The scolding look the priest gave us pretty much guaranteed us one-way tickets to hell.
After the Lord’s Prayer, when you’re told to offer each other the sign of peace (a handshake), my mother and I would pound fists and high five each other. Hey, the Catholic Church needs an update, we were merely trying to bring it.
I don’t even bother praying anymore. I feel that God has, quite simply, forgotten about me. I can’t say I blame Him. If He and I were to compare ‘to do’ lists, clearly He has a lot more going on than me. Prayers for the end of war or world hunger seem a little weighty, so I try to start Him off with the easy things, like enough money to buy those Marc Jacobs flats, for example. But, as He was more of a Birkinstock guy, maybe He just doesn’t appreciate my taste?
When, on the very rare occasion that something does actually go my way, people say; ‘Thank God’. Well, frankly, why should I? I don’t think divine intervention has much to do with one tiny glimmer of hope at the end of a long, dark, crap filled tunnel. If I’ve gotten anything in life it’s been because of my own hard work and my parents encouragement. If anything, I should be in church praising them every Sunday.
But, I ain’t mad at JC. Maybe we’re just going through a rough patch. Perhaps when He’s cleared up the war and world hunger thing, he can throw a couple of favors my way. In the meantime, all praise, fists pounds and high fives go out to my parents.
Amen to that.