In the name of the Mother, the fear, and the sinning son... hey, men!

So I'm talked to my mom yesterday to thank her for the money she sent me and she starts telling me that her new husband is bipolar. I think she's getting back at me for the time when I told her I was gay. I didn't know how to react to the news that my stepdad is a ticking timebomb of emotions, so I decided to tell my mother something that would trump her bipolar card. I said: "Mom, I'm a Buddhist."

Note to self: Never ruffle the feathers of a hardcore Catholic who just sent you money.

I've always had a problem with the Catholic Church. Why do they have to be so scary? I don't think any other religion uses fear to keep its followers. Think about it... look how huge the old cathedrals are. They're gargantuan structures with scary chandeliers, uncomfortable seats, bitter wine, and a choir of young and ripe boys waiting to be plucked. Well that last part isn't so scary.

But then there's that one thing that Sunday school teachers and desperate parents use to control their kids. It's the Catholic failsafe called Hell. I can't count how many times I've heard the phrases "Don't touch your no-no spot or you'll go to hell!" or "Don't swear at church or Satan will take your soul!" or "If you peek at the boys in the locker room, you'll go to gay hell!" I bought into the whole "Hell" thing for a long time, then I realized that Hell is a state of mind. Like when I have to listen to my boss talk about her cats. That's hell.

I don't go to church anymore. I'm the biggest sinner in the family and I'm sad to say that the fear conditioning they imposed on me has stuck. I'm afraid that I'll be struck by lightning if I come within ten feet of a church. As long as the lightning bolt doesn't impede my ability to deep throat, I'll be fine.