From email@example.com Mon Jul 13 09:40:40 1998
Subject: Disaster takes a bullet for "Bob" -- just this once.
From: "Rev. Milo Disaster" <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: Mon, 13 Jul 1998 11:40:40 -0500
Hell. I just don't know what to think anymore.
Here I am, having just joined the church, just barely having gotten
to know "Bob" and now it seems that everyone wants to get rid of him.
I need "Bob", but let me say this: I need him as a TOOL, not a
crutch. I need "Bob" as a labor-saving device.
See, for me, "Bob", JHVH-1, etc. fill the slot normally reserved
for more conventional "gods". My plan is to believe in them, base my
whole understanding of the universe on them, pray to them, jack off to
them, whatever, pile all of my beliefs on them and then DESTROY THEM
("Bob" & co.) UTTERLY.
"What the hell are you talking about, Disaster!?!," I hear you
say. Well, let me put it this way...
To me, "Bob" is a wedge, a pitching wedge, you might say. "Bob"
lifts and separates. "Bob" is a joke at the Con's expense. "Bob" is
the way that I can trick the Con into simultaneously laughing at me
AND at THEMSELVES without even realizing it.
Oh, yes "Bob" is silly. "Bob" is stupid. "Bob" is dumb. But whereas
Jesus, Bhudda, Mohamed, Jehova, Satan, etc. are all crutches for
people too lazy to stand on their own two feet, "Bob" is a set of
training wheels on your brand-new shiny red bike. Brothers and sisters
and everyone in between, "Bob" IS that set of training wheels, and
that shiny red bike is called SLACK!
When you're just starting out, as I am, you NEED those training
wheels. You need them because your balance isn't what it needs to be,
what it WILL be some day. Sure, the other kids might laugh at you,
might call you a baby, and sure, you might cry and go running back to
But don't! By all means, stay out on that bike and ride! Ride until
you get blisters, put on band-aids and ride some more! Ride until you
don't need the training wheels! Ride until you don't need "Bob", then
take those fucking trainging wheels off! If you don't have a wrench to
take the nuts off, use your goddamn teeth! Then ramp up the curled
edges of the luck-plane! Ride with one hand on the handlebar so you
can scoop up your own fucking slack with the other! Now that you
don't have the training wheels, you can turn more sharply!
BUT FOR YOUR OWN SAKE DON'T GET RID OF THE TRAINING WHEELS BEFORE
YOU KNOW HOW TO RIDE! You'll bust your ass! You'll put your eye out!
Or, worst of all, maybe you'll give up and go back to the Con where
they'll to take care of you and fix you some hot cocoa and chicken
soup and keep you nice and safe 6 feet underground! I mean, if you've
been sucking on the "Bob" teat for years and years and years, you
might want to try taking off one of those wheels, but for us newbies,
"Bob" does have his uses.
"Bob" is like Mr. Potato-head. You can change him to whatever you
want. Are you a cold, emotionless numberhead? "Bob" is a
manic-depressive stuntman on LSD! Are you a timid little hobbit?
"Bob" is a fire-breathing dragon! Are you an introvert with the
personality of a piece of lint? "Bob" is the life of the party!
Whatever you aren't, and need to be, "Bob" is. Sure, "Bob" is a
fuck-up. Sure, nothing happened on X-day aside from 200-or-so of us
partying our asses off.
Sure, "Bob" is about due for a public execution. We can kill
him. We WILL kill him.
But each in our own time, eh?