Stupidity and the Three Ds: Divorce, the Devil and the Derrière

October 12, 2008 by Keli.

Lord have mercy, I’m back.

Last week, when I watched a portion of the Presidential debate, I realized there was one question of vital importance that needed to be asked. This query, if answered well, could propel a candidate into a decisive lead and victory. Alas, this crucial question was not posed. Namely: what do you think of religious fanatics?

I define religious fanatics as interfering, uncontrollable, iron-tongued, meager-minded zealots who feel compelled to announce to all who cross their crooked paths that theirs is the only true religion. Their minds are not entirely empty, but rather stuck on one noisy track and one track only. They haphazardly scatter this skewed belief, guaranteeing that onlookers and unfortunate listeners will either be dumbfounded, scramble for cover, conduct a verbal assault and/or inflict bodily harm on said fanatic. This brand of stuper (short for a pungently stupid person) has promoted deafness and helped the earplug industry enormously.

When my beloved grandmother passed away two weeks ago, I wrote a eulogy that I knew I’d be unable to read aloud without choking up. So in a moment of weakness or madness or possibly both, I asked my religious fanatic, Class AAA++ stuper Aunt Iris, to read it for me. Iris is married to Grandma’s eldest.

Iris did an astonishingly fine job of reading a eulogy at my grandfather’s memorial service years earlier, meaning it occurred without incident or offense and actually came across sounding meaningful. I thought that although she lacked credibility in all areas imaginable, including, but not limited to, cooking, travel arrangements and gift giving, perhaps eulogy reading appeared on her extremely short list of actual and only slightly arguable, skills. Plus, Grandma always managed to get along with Iris. If Granny could do it, so could I, damn it!

My eulogy revealed how my grandparents provided a haven for the grandchildren (six of us) whose parents were divorced; how Grandma created a devil’s knot (a simple knot) on a handkerchief and managed to locate lost items (an old custom from the place where she grew up) and how she once kicked a servant in the posterior (when she was nine-years-old) for trying to physically punish Granny’s younger brother.

I e-mailed my eulogy to Iris. This was her response:

“I feel uncomfortable talking about divorce. I feel uncomfortable talking about the Devil. And I don’t know why, but I feel uncomfortable talking about the kick in the derrière. So I’m going to edit it.”

Ah, the nonsensical ways of stupidity! Yes, I did want to give Iris a kick in the rear to remind her that this was not about her. And that it wasn’t all that long ago when Iris herself was advocating divorce for her son and his wife to all with unplugged ears because she did not approve of her daughter-in-law.

If the practice of religion makes no improvement in a person’s outward talk and actions - if she continues to be just as greedy, spiteful or idiotic as before - then this practice is illusory. A great interest in religion is meaningless unless it spurs on better behavior and greater thought.

I revoked my request, in the nicest possible way, of Iris, and instead turned my eulogy into a memory book adding sentiments from my cousins. Meanwhile, I redirected my attention to the memorial service and devised a plan enabling me to effortlessly leap over the empty heads of my other abundant stuper relatives and get through it all while maintaining my sanity.

I focused only on those who’d made a positive difference in my grandmother’s life by giving her the gift of their time and kindness. I told each one how much they meant to her. I knew who Grandma’s favorites were, as I had the privilege of being on her inside track.

I made it. All it took was a little thought.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

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