to share this version with our collaborators... “The Pinocchio Letters: An Anthropological Fairy Tale” Random Excerpts, Notes and Ideas ---This letter will appear at an unspecified point within the collection. It is a solid representation of the encounters and observations make by our hero throughout the text. His unbiased perspective, free of customary social conditioning, results in interactions both humorous and enlightening. Date: / / Location: Public Transit Car Time: Early afternoon Subject: The social pitfalls of religious discussion. I am fascinated by humanity’s prevailing belief in a divine being, a celestial architect who watches out for the species... some... some... thing universally known by the label of “God,” a word applied so flexibly, so inconsistently, that it loses all meaning. This God character is utterly fictional, yet nevertheless inspires the worship of millions. However, no one seems to agree on exactly how He should be worshipped, which of his commandments must be strictly adhered to and which may be freely dismissed, why His existence is plausible or even necessary... Actually, I have yet to interview any two individuals who have provided the same definition of “God.” Yet the passion and controversy the subject inspires is both absurd and amusing. Countless wars have been fought over this mythical and poorly developed concept, how God is to be defined, understood, and taught to coming generations. Most outrageous is the number who claim to be in daily contact with this controversial being. Communication with God is known as “prayer” and seems to consist of a lot of, well, begging. All evidence I’ve gathered suggests a form of mass delusion, rooted in guilt, hopelessness and uncertainty. Did God create man in His in his likeness, or did man create God in his own image? Many of the strangers I encounter speak to me of their God. The concept appears infectious. Humanity toils away filling their minds with God and ethanol. Funny species indeed! One elderly woman - she introduced herself as Doris or Dolores - well, she was the third stranger to speak to me about God. We were riding the subway car, sitting quietly in adjacent seats, when she leaned forward and inquired of me in a hushed tone, “How may I pray for you young man?” Nothing in my previous experiences prepared me for such a peculiar question, and I struggled to formulate a proper response. I had no idea what she wanted to hear, nor could I deduce what
response might be customary. Religion and God are very difficult discussion topics, as the unspoken rules of polite discourse are infinite and subject to dramatic changes from one conversation partner to the next. Why should my opinion matter? Why must I be questioned? If this Doris or Dolores finds her ride on the subway to be dull, she has only to shut her beady little eyes and talk to herself a bit. Contact with her creator is as simple as that - so why must she engage me with her nonsensical inquiries? “I wouldn’t worry about praying for me,” I stated flatly. “I’m certain you will find better use of your time.” I held my hollow gaze for the appropriate three seconds, then diverted my eyes. I had assumed the woman would be relieved to have one less imaginary responsibility. Her unmasked snort of disdain alerted me to my faux pas, though a snort alone could not reveal the exact nature of my blunder. That is when I began asking questions, convinced that future dialogues of similar theme might require less effort if I could only make sense of this baffling God thing. There must be some trick of perception required to know God without sacrificing the basic principles of logic. “What exactly do you typically pray for and why?” I asked, remembering to use my newfound knowledge of emphasis and speech rhythm. “What special desires do you project out into the cosmos like so many coins tossed into a wishing well? Do your prayers change your God? Does He casually bend time and space to accommodate your requests? How does he deal with conflicting requests from individuals of differing viewpoints? And if He already knows all that the future holds, how might your prayers alter upcoming events without compromising His absolute foreknowledge?” She stared at me, her nosed raised in such a way as to appear suggestive... though I had yet to learn the significance of that particular gesture. I chose to interpret her nasal signal as evidence of her continued disgust. Why? My questions seemed valid enough. Through with attempting to grasp the expected structure of this conversation, I decided to make a bold suggestion. “Instead of praying for me,” I said blankly, “pray instead that you may know yourself a bit less and eternity a bit more.” Her response was not forthcoming. “Or don’t,” I muttered. “It really isn’t my business anyhow. What right do I have to discuss unfathomable belief systems with strangers encountered on public transit units?” From now on I shall politely decline participation in conversations of this nature. They serve no purpose but to baffle and offend those of differing viewpoints, and coddle and reassure the superstitious beliefs of the like-minded.