… brought to you by the Wonders of Low-Rent Christian Fundamentalism!
Many people are aware of certain backwoods American “Christian” sects that incorporate the liberal handling of venomous rattlesnakes and other dangerous serpents into their banjo and tongue-babbling services. A preacher-man and, sometimes, other members of the congregation caught-up in the thrall of religious idiocy, stand on a podium and wrangle rattlers and vipers for the edification of the nitwit audience members.
Hymns are sung as the snakes writhe amid such bizarre displays. Shouts of “Glory! Hallelujah!” and “Praise you, Jesus!” emanate from the lips of woeful sinners. “Holy twerking” with the reptiles is performed like the Dance of the Seven Veils, and others acts of brazen foolishness are applauded.
All of this, of course, is done as a form of worship performed—not to a transcendent deity—but to the King James Bible as an idol unto itself: The WORD, as if it were a creation dictated directly or handwritten by a transcendent divinity and had thereby become an incarnation of that entity.
The goal, of course, is to affirm (by moronic measures) a few passages in the canonized Christian texts that speak of missionary workers surviving various dangers in their efforts to convert the “unsaved”. Bites from venomous serpents are among those evils that the faithful are promised to overcome. Thus, snake-handling for purposes of stirring-up religious hysteria and PROVING (beyond a shadow of doubt) one’s personal salvation, has become a marvelous means for certain lunatics to express their faith in the Bible. Metaphor is lost upon these turds, if you haven’t guessed already.
In their hubris, most of these whack-jobs eventually die from envenomation.
If a snake doesn’t bite—MIRACLE! If it does—The death can always be blamed on some unrevealed sin or a failure to repent for secretly eating ALL the Bologna Salad that MeeMaw made out of her kitchen grinder.
This kind of tragedy and blithe stupidity, friends, is the result of the phenomenon of religious literalism or what we call “fundamentalism,” i.e. the literalistic, to-the-letter interpretation of holy writ.
By the same logic, we should have millions of people dedicated to the Church of the Mustard Seed Mountain Movers, but a gaggle of mongoloids beating tambourines and waiting for Mt. Ranier to rise up and leap into the ocean doesn’t make an impression quite as immediate as kissing an angry rattlesnake, so there you have it.
Take everything with a grain of salt, folks, and, if necessary, keep some antivenin nearby and a medical helicopter on speed-dial.
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